#and characterised by loyalty to a special person!!!!

[glittter-skeleton]

Sexy unkillable loyal dog will never not be my favourite charecter

[that-ari-blogger]

Actions Have Conciquences

The Owl House is a story about growing up and the dichotomy between youthful imagination and the pragmatism that is ascribed to adulthood. It's a coming of age story.

But The Owl House is also a master of trope subversion, so how does it twist this story archetype? Well, Escape Of The Palisman serves as a fantastic benchmark for how the series will tackle this subject later on.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

The term Bildungsroman is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as the following:

A novel that has as its main theme the formative years or spiritual education of one person (a type of novel traditional in German literature).

Obviously, the Owl House isn't a novel, but this is definitely a story archetype that can cross between forms.

TKC Publishing claims that there are four stages to a bildungsroman, loss, journey, conflict and personal growth, and maturity. I will be using these stages as a framework for my analysis.

In essence, the Bildungsroman is a coming of age story, it delves into a part of a person's life in which they emotionally reach adulthood. And The Owl House fits this for Luz to a tea. But this episode also functions as a miniaturised version of the format, and it is this that I would like to dwell upon.

First up, loss. This is what characterises the rest of the novel. The loss is the setback that the protagonist must overcome. Most stories use this as an inciting incident, and this isn't entirely correct, for reasons I will go into later.

In Escape Of The Palisman, the loss is the breaking of Owlbert. What is interesting here, is that it is directly caused by Luz's recklessness, setting up the lesson that will be learned in the episode. Actions have consequences.

The journey is the bulk of the adventure. Physically or emotionally, it is the transformation into a better person, but it doesn't directly solve the problem, just prepares them to confront that part of themself.

In this episode, this is rather obvious, Luz has to do chores for the Bat Queen. These don't solve the problem with Owlbert, but they do go a long way to proving Luz's loyalty to him. Trials don't change a person, they test them.

This is all fairly basic writing, hence why I'm struggling to bring something new. A character causes a problem and wants to atone, but there are obstacles. It's basic, but competently done. This isn't unique to The Owl House.

This is what makes the Owl House special. The Bat Queen's story is gut wrenching, specifically because of how well it fits with the theme of the episode and series as a whole, but also because of how it interacts with Luz's actions earlier in the episode.

Actions have consequences, if you are reckless, you will break things, or people. The Bat Queen in this story is the embodiment of loss and betrayal, but also with healing.

"I protect them all!"

The thing about scars, is that they never truly leave. They can fade, or be covered up, or sometimes even forgotten, but they are always there. The Bat Queen has healed from her betrayal, but that wound remains present, and it comes back in full force when she sees someone else going through the same thing.

Finally, we get to the conflict and personal growth. As the difference between Luz and the Bat Queen's previous companion, and it's Luz's defining characteristic once again winning someone over. Luz is kind, to a fault. She encourages people and shines a light on their hidden attributes. She inspires people.

The shot above makes Owlbert look badass as hell. The glowing eyes and scar are cool, and blocking the blow is awesome. But the shot also goes out of its way to show how small Owlbert is, and that's the point here. That's how brave this little owl has been inspired to be.

Actions have conciquences is often said with a negative connotation. If you do something reckless, something bad will happen. And this episode certainly agrees with that premise. But the saying is a double-sided coin. Actions have conciquences. If you are kind enough, persistent enough, reckless enough, people will see that, and maybe, just maybe, they will pay you back.

Case and point, when Eda questions Luz on her actions, Owlbert stands up for her once again, wiping the slate clean. She has redeemed herself, dwelling on the mistake is fruitless, in Owlbert's eyes.

Maturity has been reached, at least in comparison to the episode's opening.

I mentioned that The Owl House twists this story archetype, and here is what I mean: Luz doesn't change that much. She has a journey, yes, and she overcomes problems, but fundamentally, she doesn't do change much. She wins because she is kind and inspiring, and she starts the story being those things. She ends the series being kind and inspiring.

Character arcs aren't arcs. I mean this in the sense of the visualisation. To picture a character on a graph is a flawed endeavour, because humans are complicated. For example, if you put Luz on a graph, she would end up at the same point at which she started. Luz's character development isn't linear, or quantifiable. She learns to grow up, and she learns to stay the same.

I said earlier that there is a dichotomy between childhood and adulthood, and the point of the Owl House is: Why? Why are they separate? Being a child is about learning and imagining, and being an adult is about experience and wisdom. None of these things are mutually exclusive, and Luz's journey throughout the series is learning that. She bounces between the four points like a pinball, and it's fascinating to watch.

The last thing to point out is what is going on around Luz. If you were to analyse the Owl House from a top-down perspective, if no character is the main character, each person is given equal screen time. Then, Luz would be a support character. She would probably be the single point that everyone else rotates around. And that's what happens here. She encourages the Bat Queen to see witches differently, and she gets Owlbert to be brave.

Final Thoughts

This is not my favourite episode. Don't get me wrong, it's not bad by any stretch of the imagination. I said earlier that it is a simple premise done competently, and I stand by that. The unfortunate thing there is that I do not find this episode as interesting as others. The Bat Queen revelation is the best part of the episode and possible one of the best parts of the season, but it's fleeting, and the prelude of chores makes it lose its oomph, if that makes sense.

This is just my opinion, if you enjoyed this, keep doing that. Difference of opinion is part of the fun of media analysis.

Next week I'll be looking at Sense and Insensitivity, an episode that I adore, but find absolutely terrifying. So, stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[ink-and-dagger]

HIII god I never use this app but I really needed to tell you how much I love your work, you are my new inspiration as an aspiring writer ily 😭 Your Silco fic really stuck with me, I've been reading fan works for like 8 years and I never felt so many emotions reading something on that site I'm not kidding, it's *chef kiss*, you are an incredible writer I hope you know that 🤍 On the other hand, if you don't mind I wanted to get an insight on how you work and what your writing process is with the characters and everything. I've been wanting to start writing for so long but never know how to start, mainly because I don't know how to get characters to stay in character and not make them feel OOC (and bc English is not my main language 🥲). I envy that a lot from many authors such as yourself and I could only hope for that level of skill, it's amazing 🥺 That's all, I'll be here waiting to read more of your works about anything or from any fandom really, you are great! Thank you in advance :) <3

Holy moly those are some huge compliments 😭 thank you so much ❤️ I’m so glad my story struck a chord with you.

I think you're literally incredible for even being able to contemplate writing a fic in a language that isn't your mother tongue. My personal belief is that story > writing. There are plenty of books out there that are beautifully written and boring as ass. There are also lots of books that have moved people to tears despite being averagely written. The words you use are merely a tool to communicate your story, and if your readers are invested in the world and characters you've created, then they will forgive imperfect writing.

I've answered a few writing questions in the past that might be of use/interest to you. I'll link them below:

How I plot my stories

How I came up with the outline for DWM

How to stop obsessing over edits

But in terms of your concerns around characterisation – I know it sounds wildly obvious... but you just kinda have to make sure you know that character inside and out.

It helps to build some kind of dossier alongside your outline that you can use as a reference sheet. This can contain whatever information you want, but here are some ideas to get you started:

Personality traits [both good and bad]

Likes and Dislikes

Special Skills/Abilities [plus anything they're rubbish at]

Fears and Desires

Important Relationships [do they have family and/or friends?]

It's also super important to familiarise yourself with the little details too. Real, relatable people don't walk around with their 'biggest qualities' plastered above their heads for all to see.

If you asked someone who works with me to quickly describe me, they wouldn't say – "Oh that's Inky. She values loyalty, her zodiac sign is Virgo, and she has mummy&daddy issues."

They'd more likely say something along the lines of – "Oh that's Inky. She's very friendly, likes to work with her AirPods in, and tends to fall over a lot."

It's these little details that flesh out a character and make them feel more real.

Try and envision your character in different mundane situations. What pizza would they order? How would they react to slow wi-fi? If their favourite song came on the radio whilst they were alone would they sing and dance? If they found money on the street what would they do?

A practical tip whilst writing is to read their dialogue out loud as them. Does it sound right? Can you hear them saying it? Think about their language and speech patterns. Think about what they're trying to communicate, but also whether they're attempting to withhold anything.

And lastly in terms of getting started writing...

I'm sorry my friend. The only way to start is to start...

I recently looked back at some old writing files from when I first began writing as an adult in late 2019. And believe me when I tell you that it has all the elegance of Donald trump in a pair of kitten heels. It’s awful.

But that’s okay. Because I knew when I was writing it that it was for my eyes only, and that I’d look back on it one day and think "wowee I've improved a butt ton!" And of course I was completely correct because I'm a Virgo and also INFJ so 💁🏻‍♀️

My point is, writing is a skill, and skills need to be practiced and honed. You have to allow yourself to be shit first, or you will never get good.

Open up a blank file and write a sentence. Doesn't matter what it is. Just write it. Save it in a private file just for you. Create a safe place where you can learn and make mistakes without any pressure.

And remember that even seasoned authors don't produce perfect writing from the get go. You put down a rough draft first. Then you go through and make it more coherent. Then fill in any gaps you left. Then tweak the order of events. Then finesse the language etc etc etc... It's a multi-step process, just like painting a picture. There's no point in attempting to add lighting and shade on top of a pencil sketch that doesn't even have any base colour on it yet.

WOW I'm rambling. I'm gonna wrap up, but as you can tell this is a topic I'm passionate about, and I'm more than happy to answer any more questions you might have!

I hope this is helpful in some way <3

[shadow-of-wonder]

c's thoughts after watching 'Living on a Razor's Edge': the Scott Hall story documentary 💭

so I finally got around to watching this little Scott Hall documentary on WWE Network and I had to do a little ramble of my thoughts bc i had A LOT of them 🙈

- the intelligence and perspective of this man when it came to the wrestling business was something so special and in my opinion, rare. he was so capable of coming up with ideas when it came to characterisation, not only for him but also others. the point of view and honest advice he would offer others is something that I appreciate so much about his person bc I think everyone needs a friend/person like that in their life; someone who will be as honest as they can be when you seek their thoughts or opinion rather than giving you a sugar-coated perspective.

- the lifelong effects that repressing trauma can have on someone are truly real and I think Scott is an example of this. obviously, he may have drunk and done drugs w/o the demons he was carrying inside him. however, I think the guilt he carried and the punishment he put himself through internally over the shooting he was involved in was a big reason why he got so easily caught up in alcohol and drugs. 

* the story of the shooting is that he was seeing this girl and another guy she was involved with pulled a gun on him outside of the club he was working at. he ended up wrestling with the guy over the gun and as he hit him guy with it, the gun ended up going off and blowing the back of the guy's head off at point blank range. Scott says in the documentary: "it was so crazy, but I know in my heart that I wasn't trying to kill him. but he's still dead". 

- one thing I will always appreciate about the person Scott was is how he always acknowledged his mistakes whilst also being entirely honest about them. he's very open and honest during this documentary about how he was feeling and doing in real life throughout different eras of his career and it makes me as a fan feel so much empathy for him bc even now, some fans seem to forget that there is a human being behind the character they see on TV. 

- he's also very open about the misery he was feeling for the most part of his career when he was outside the ring and it again, makes me grateful that we are now in a day & age where (I'd like like think) fans are more aware and understanding of the fact that these wrestlers we love + admire are real ppl outside of their on-screen persona and they too, can have struggle with their mental health and/or mental illnesses. 

- his alcoholism was a big topic of the documentary (as expected) and I really loved and appreciated how he was openly honest about how he was very defensive when ppl did try to help him and although he had people reaching out to him, he had trouble accepting help. his transparency when it came to discussing his darkest times and addictions is something I'll always appreciate not just about him, but about anyone who is the same way.

- the Kliq were definitely a bunch of dicks back in the 90's but you can't deny the loyalty and friendship between these guys, especially between big daddy cool and the bad guy. Triple H spoke about how he heard Kevin Nash say regarding Scott that: "I'm done with him, I can't take it anymore. I'm done. I'm tired of worrying about him. I'm tired of all these things", yet Kev would later show up at Scott's House regardless to check in on him like that's a real friend, a real brother there. another thing that really hit me was something that Triple H said which was: "Scott is a great guy. Scott just doesn't know that he's a great guy" bc it hinted at the negative self-image that Scott had of himself that was likely a result of the burden and guilt he still held from the shooting as well as his real life issues that occurred along the way. if only this man knew how much so many ppl loved him for HIM. 

I had so many thoughts while watching this but they could go on forever so I'm going to stop myself here. I just want to say how fucking grateful I am that such a talented, intelligent, hardworking 'bad guy' like Scott Hall existed in the world at the same time as so many of us. I'm grateful that we are able to go back and relive the life, times and career of such an athletic, gifted man who could own it both in the ring and on the mic. I'm grateful that Scott was able to gain redemption and live a cleaner and more blissful life for the last decade of his life. I'm grateful for the mark that this man left on the wrestling business and I will forever have a crush on Razor Ramon thanks to him 🙈

in all seriousness, I've gained so much love + appreciation for both Razor Ramon, the character and Scott Hall, the real person since I've been doing my WWF rewatch and I'm still so sad that he's no longer with us. thank you for everything bad guy, I hope you're at peace wherever you are 🙏🏾

[saturnsorbits]

As a small sneak-peak into a life with Bakugo, this piece offers us a heart-felt and humorous scene that perfectly encapsulates both Bakugo and what a relationship with our resident explosive hero would be like.

Jo does it again, combining her spectacular understanding of Bakugo with a special talent for dialogue to produce a heart-warming short that will have you smiling from ear to ear.

Getting in quick, this piece wastes no time in setting up it's scene – offering us it's idea right out of the gate. This drags us in, leading us by the hand into the warmth of Reader and Bakugo's relationship.

Bakugo's characterisation really is flawless throughout. In a contrast to the often reductive angry persona gifted to him, this piece looks deeper – calling upon other aspects of his personality to examine what a lasting relationship with this man would look like. First, we get to see fierce loyalty that comes in the form of his easily admittance that 'it's only ever been [Reader]'. The security we see here, translated from Bakugo's own self-confidence and knowledge of himself is heart-warming – his ease in expressing his emotions as if they are concrete and unmoveable a big part of who he is and seeing this used in his relationship with Reader is glorious. But, this piece doesn't stop there...

This piece goes on to humanise him, offering up a love-sick kind of insecurity that has him asking if '[he] annoyed [Reader]'. It's wonderful watching him so easily expose this vulnerability and really plays into just how intricate and brilliant Jo's characterisation is as she so easily juggles all of these emotions. And then, lastly, we get that dose of petty. It's a wonderful element, seeing something that combines Bakugo's loyalty, insecurity and stubbornness to produce a man who gets stuck on the little things, gifting us the giggle worthy trio of: 'I would have married you first', 'Wait, who asked you to marry them?' and 'But, you said no, right?'

— crush’d

You’re Bakugou’s one true love, but you’re curious to know if he’s had any crushes before you.

Warnings: fluff, established relationship.

Word Count: ���0.9k.

You’d known when you first started dating Bakugou that you were his first proper relationship. It was something that never really bothered you, in fact it was quite the opposite. It felt nice knowing that you were experiencing things together for the first time, and with no real expectations you both formed the perfect bond. But there was always an inquisitiveness in your mind about Bakugou’s previous love life, and whilst there weren’t any previous girlfriends you were curious to know about the crushes he’d had before you.

“You must have had a crush on someone” You sat beside him on the couch, snuggled beneath a large Dynamight fleece blanket as you debated which movie to watch for date night.

“It’s only ever been you” Bakugou replies simply, his left arm slung over your thighs as his right hand holds the television remote. Sinking himself deeper into the couch as he relaxes after a long day at work, the slightest smudge of black from his hero mask still streaked beneath his eyes as his hair sits damp after his quick shower.

“Yeah, but you can still have crushes on people!” You pressed.

“I don’t have crushes,” Bakugou scoffed.

“I told you, silly.” You roll your eyes, “You must have had a crush on me before we started dating, right?”

You thought back to the times where Bakugou would appear at your workplace between shifts, spending a little longer than necessary on his patrol route in the same area in the hopes of catching a glimpse of you.

“Nah, you just annoyed me until we started dating.” He snickered.

“I think it’s the other way round, mister.” You gave him an incredulous look, “Do I have to remind you when you sent Kiri in to ask if I hated you because I didn’t see you when you waved that one morning.”

“Wait— I annoyed you?” Bakugou gave you a defensive look, his eyes widening in worry as he looked like a kicked puppy, “You said you liked when I came in to see you.”

“I’m only joking,” You snorted, “You’re too cute.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, hiding his face back inside his hoodie as he gave your thigh a soft squeeze. Continuing to scroll aimlessly for something to watch on television.

“No, but seriously. There must have been a girl you fancied before me.”

It wasn’t that you were insecure in your relationship with the number two hero, it was quite the opposite really. Bakugou made you feel more wanted and loved than anyone before, even with his demanding career he made it abundantly clear how much you mattered to him. A fact that had your heart racing whenever you thought about it.

“Not really,” He shrugged, clicking onto one of the action movies on the screen to read the synopsis, “Didn’t have time for that shit.”

“Come on, Katsu. There must have been someone,” You squeezed his arm, “Not even asking a girl to marry you when you were five?”

“Nah,” He smirks, “Most girls were scared’a me.”

“So who was the first proper crush you ever had?” You continued, “Even just the first person you thought was cute.”

Bakugou stopped scrolling through the list of movies, nose scrunched slightly as he was deep in thought. You knew his friends would tease and taunt him for you being his first girlfriend in his thirties, the life of a Pro making it difficult for him to form any lasting connections— not that he seemingly wanted to anyway, too focused on his career goals than trying to settle down. But there had to be people in his past life that he found attractive, or at least crushed on growing up. Thinking back to the crushes you had when you were younger, drawing silly hearts around their names in workbooks at school or dreaming up fantasy scenarios of you getting married and having kids.

“Didn’t really get a crush on anyone until I was fifteen, sixteen.” He thinks.

“Yeah? So spill-“ You poked his side playfully.

“Off, woman.” He made a feeble attempt of batting you away as you yelped playfully, “Mirko.”

“Mirko?” You grinned, “The rabbit hero?”

“Yeah,” He chewed the inside of his cheek.

“That’s so cute,” You continued, “No wonder you have those action figures of her in your room.”

“They’re collectibles.” Bakugou corrected you with a scoff.

“Oh I’m so sorry,” You replied, sarcasm oozing from your voice as you gave him puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. So what about you?” Crimson eyes look to the side to shoot the same question across to you, “Who’d you like?”

You thought back to all the crushes you’d had over the years, the older Pro-Heroes that used to cover your walls as a teenager, and the musicians that held your heart in their hands whenever you heard their songs. But you couldn’t think of another guy that had the same effect on you that Bakugou had, no one else felt the same.

“I don’t think I had a proper crush until I was a little older either,” You think back, “I did ask a boy to marry me when I was five though.”

“I woulda married you first.” He replies simply.

“Katsu, I was five.” You laugh, and Bakugou is certain you’ve never sounded prettier.

“So?” He scoffs, “Reckon I woulda known back then you were the one too.”

“That’s sweet.” You lean onto his arm to press a glossy kiss to the stubble against his jaw, the slightest tinge of pink glowing against his cheeks as he stays facing forward.

“Wait, who asked you to marry them?” Bakugou whips his head to the side to lock eyes with you, brows furrowed in irritation.

“Katsuki I know you’re not getting jealous of five year old me being proposed to.” You grin.

“I’m not,” He grumbles, pausing for a moment as you take the control out of his hands to start scrolling through movies, “But you said no right?”

[mariacallous]

The appointment of a ruling party apparatchik as head of the powerful Security Information Agency suggests the intelligence service will remain a loyal servant of Serbia’s president.

The Serbian public was informed last week that the National Security Council, NSC, chaired by President Aleksandar Vucic, had approved the appointment of Vladimir Orlic, an official of the ruling Serbian Progressive Party, as the new director of the Security Information Agency, BIA.

The following day, the government issued the formal decision to appoint Orlic as director. While this news attracted attention, it did not come as a big surprise to those familiar with Serbia’s security institutions. Since coming to power in 2012, the Progressive Party has established a practice of appointing people to head the BIA and other state institutions based not on expertise and professionalism but on their loyalty to Vucic.

This is evident from the fact that it was announced that the NSC, led by Vucic, had given its approval for Orlic’s appointment – even though by law the NSC provides only a non-binding opinion in appointing the BIA’s director; the government is the institution that appoints and dismisses the head of the BIA. The move was aimed at signaling that Vucic personally stands behind Orlic’s appointment.

Orlic proved his loyalty to Vucic and the ruling party as president of Serbia’s National Assembly from 2022 to 2024, when he compared the political opposition to Hitler, Goebbels and other fascists, and labelled them thieves and scum. He used similar derogatory names for professional media critical of the Serbian Progressive Party government.

Like his five predecessors, as director of the BIA, he will effectively promote President Vucic’s will within the agency, protecting and increasing Vucic’s power and authority, as well as the power and wealth of those close to him.

This task has been made easier for him by the fact that, under his predecessors, the BIA was structured to serve these purposes. Within the agency, a situation centre has been established to collect critical information, staffed with young cadres from the ruling party. From the year the Serbian Progressive Party came to power to 2018, the agency hired 250 new people, and many more agents have been hired since then.

Furthermore, the BIA’s budget was nearly doubled between 2016 and 2023. This enabled the technical modernisation of the agency, including the purchase of spyware, including programmes for secret surveillance of mobile phones such as Predator, and buying the loyalty of BIA employees through significant salary increases and the provision of newly-built apartments at favourable prices.

In 2023, an armed unit was (re)established within the BIA, specialising in secret arrests, reminiscent of the time of Slobodan Milosevic’s rule during the 1990s when the state security’s Special Operations Unit acted as the regime’s iron fist against its enemies.

These changes were accompanied by a clear redefinition of the BIA’s main tasks, which was announced in 2018 by Marko Parezanovic, a high-ranking agency operative at the time. Parezanovic emphasised that the biggest threat to Serbia’s security was the covert actions of foreign factors through opposition parties, media, non-governmental organisations and unions.

The impact of these changes is evident from the BIA’s activities over the past five years, characterised by monitoring the political opposition and critical individuals and journalists, spreading disinformation in pro-government media to discredit them, detaining protest initiators and critics of the government, and even physically assaulting some of them for activities such as posting on the social network X or honouring the fallen in the Kosovo war.

The Agency’s recent agenda has also included the persecution of Russian liberal exiles in Serbia and patrolling the streets of Belgrade with armed and uniformed BIA members following a terrorist attack in Moscow.

Alleged organised crime connections

Reports by the New York Times and other media outlets have claimed that the Agency has used criminal structures for various tasks beneficial to the current regime – from providing security at Progressive Party gatherings to dispersing fan groups that were chanting derogatory slogans against Vucic at matches.

This alleged deployment of criminal elements by the BIA has caused journalists and former and current members of security institutions to claim that since the Progressive Party came to power, the borderline between organised crime and the state has become blurred.

In the future, continuity in the BIA’s work can be expected in terms of international cooperation; Orlic will consistently implement Vucic’s policy of scaremongering and stability. This involves simultaneously playing on other countries’ fears while offering Serbia’s security institutions as useful partners in addressing them.

While the West is concerned about irregular migration, Islamist extremism and terrorism and organised crime, the BIA is likely to provide field data on these issues.

Russia, on the other hand, is concerned about both Islamist terrorism as well as so-called ‘colour’ (pro-Western) revolutions, as well as ‘enemies’ represented by the Russian liberal, democratic and anti-war opposition in exile. Therefore, the BIA will likely continue to persecute Russian liberals in Serbia.

Although Orlic takes over an agency that is well oiled to protect the regime, his tenure at the BIA will not be plain sailing. After 12 years of Progressive Party rule, Serbia is divided and polarised, with state institutions ‘captured’ by Vucic and his loyalists preventing the institutional expression of dissent and the desire for a change of government.

This situation, coupled with widespread poverty and political, social and economic stratification, leads to regular public protests, which Vucic’s regime treats as a threat to national security.

The situation is further complicated by the thawing of ‘frozen’ conflicts in Kosovo and Bosnia, and the government’s advocacy of Serbian unity in the region through the concept of the ‘Serbian World’.

In these conditions, two major projects need to be realised. One is the 2.5-billion-euro Jadar Project to mine lithium and boron from under the river Jadar, which is expected to annually boost Serbia’s budget by about 10 billion euros, employ many workers, and garner support from the West. The other is EXPO 2027, worth a colossal 17 billion euros, which is expected to provide immense material and financial benefits to the government and its allies.

Besides securing Vucic’s rule, Orlic needs to ensure that the opposition does not politically jeopardise these projects – as well as make sure that they are not threatened by factional conflicts over the division of spoils within and around Vucic’s government.

[markeduke]

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[denimbex1986]

'It seems as if half the world has already been to a screening of Christopher Nolan’s magnum opus, Oppenheimer. The other half and some from the former group, meanwhile, had their tickets booked for Barbie. For the sake of this column, let us focus on the former.

The film, through its brilliant showcase of a certain J Robert Oppenheimer, the father of the atomic bomb, a flawed genius, leaves an indelible mark on our minds. Beyond that, the film itself provides several management lessons for us to imbibe and make our own.

Firstly, the bigger picture is extremely important in any situation. Often, we must focus intently on our work, to the point that we forget everything else, but to keep the larger perspective in mind helps us to truly succeed. The ability to concentrate deeply on a project or assignment or task without losing sight of the overall objective is truly vital.

Secondly, we would do well to be generalist-specialists. Perfect at his speciality as Oppenheimer clearly was, he was able yet to adapt so well to a leadership role which turned out to be the absolute clincher for him. A specialist who has mastered the nuances of his own craft and yet possesses people skills and coordination skills is able to lead teams to great heights of excellence.

Thirdly, working with the ability to handle the unpredictability-factor in any human situation is very necessary. It is impossible to precisely envision all the unfolding scenarios as one goes about tackling one’s challenges. It is absolutely vital to navigate the ship through imponderable situations and unforeseen circumstances. True leaders are those who come into their own when adversity strikes or a crisis shakes the very foundation of a venture.

Fourthly, nobody is perfect. And Oppenheimer, despite all his brilliance and unique stature, had personality flaws that are amply highlighted in the film. There are also some subtle hints indicative of an even bigger malaise. Yet, despite his own infirmities, to be able to propel a super-intelligent team towards excellence in their scientific domain was Oppenheimer’s unqualified achievement

Fifthly, the heart should rule the brain! There is a famous quote in which a scientist states that even after 45 years of research, he is most embarrassed to state that his most important advice to others is to be kind to all others. Having empathy for society and humanity is what icons must exemplify despite their superior intelligence and capacity to be world beating path breakers. Oppenheimer’s idea of enabling America to be the first to own the atomic bomb was more towards it being a clear deterrent to other ambitious nations. It was president Harry S Truman who decided to allow death and destruction of unimaginable proportions to reign upon Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

A team of researchers and scientists cannot be faulted for attaining sheer excellence in their pursuit of knowledge and executing plans with poised perfection. It is left to the prudence of the leadership of powerful nations to be discerning enough when it comes to using technology which is potentially pernicious and destructive.

Sixthly, lows will accompany highs forever, in a world of duality. Oppenheimer staved off several attacks upon his integrity and dealt with vindictively conducted enquiry procedures. He was loyal to his nation and his science, yet for months and even years his loyalties were scrutinised by vested interests. Had he been allowed to nurture his scientific creativity to the hilt, he may well have been able to lead the world of science to great heights in solving some of the world’s major problems.

The film Oppenheimer is also a stark reminder of all that can yet be good about cinema. Real people with believable personas and powerful characterisation knitted together by a master filmmaker, ensures that Oppenheimer will be known as one of the most superior films of its kind.

Nolan could well have depended hugely upon pyrotechnics and artificial intelligence enabled exaggeration to portray a subject which enveloped such a vast canvas. Yet, in this era of technological hype, he has portrayed human beings with their frailties and has brought to life characters who remain with us, much after we have left the cinema hall.'

[elencelebrindal]

Do you consider the anime and manga different timelines? What is your opinion of Soul of Good, specially Camus characterisation?

I’m pretty sure the anime is considered almost non-canon when compared to the manga, but when it comes to the timelines I think they cannot be that different. There’s the Asgard arc in between, but I don’t think it does anything to change the general timeline? It mostly affects the way some events happen, I think, but as always I could be horribly mistaken so don’t rely on me. 

Now, about Soul of Gold... I LOVE it. It’s my favorite spin-off of the entire Saint Seiya. I am in love with the classic Gold Saints, and to have them being the protagonists of an entire series is delightful. Not only that, the story of Soul of Gold, albeit a bit... ahem, repetitive, is really good, and the characterization of all the characters is incredible. Plus, I genuinely loved the new God Warriors, they were all different and had their own tridimensional personality.  Literally, I only disliked two things about Soul of Gold: Lyfia falling for Aiolia (didn’t make the slightest bit of sense to me, because they were strangers), and the art style. That’s it. Everything else, I loved.

When it comes to Camus, I’ve written an entire honest opinion about his character in Soul of Gold. I’ll link it here, but I’ll try to summarize what I think anyway. I loved it. I don’t particularly like when people jump on the “Camus is a traitor” train, because Camus’ characterization, if anything, showed how loyal he is. It is a bit of a grey area, but Camus did what he did out of loyalty towards his old friend, not because they suddenly made him a villain or a genuine traitor. Too see him fight alongside Surt, but still being faithful to his companions (he saved Milo from Surt, and visibly avoided killing Shura during their fight), was an incredible show of tridimensional personality that I loved really much. 

Really sorry for not answering right away!

[aminta]

Okay, here goes - I haven't found many 50k+ fics, so there's a few shorter ones too, but they're worth your time!

• Pretty much anything TM by robot iconography on FFnet, but special mentions go to:

Never Spellbound by a Starry Sky (51k words): Strange goings-on mar Rick and Evelyn's wedding preparations. Can they and Jonathan solve the mystery? (it's Very Fun, really well-written - in two 1st person voices, Rick's and Evy's, alternating between chapters - and the characterisation is On Point.)

We Need to Talk (18k) Shortly after the events of the first film, Rick and Evelyn sort out the precise nature of their relationship. Are they too different to make it work? (of course the answer is HELL NO, but getting there is fun!)

• Deeper Within Darkness (49k): It is a truth universally acknowledged that wherever Rick O'Connell and Evelyn Carnahan are, trouble is not far away. What begins as an innocent night out soon leads to danger that threatens all of Egypt. (great follow-up on TM!)

• Hereafter (134k): After TMR. Imhotep has raised Ancksunamun and conquered the earth. Rick, Evy, Ardeth, Jonathan, and some new characters must find each other to defeat Imhotep once more. (a Monster, and an epic one. Rick and Evy are separated (physically! not, y'know, separated) for a big part of it, but they - and their love - really get to shine there.)

• One Night in Cairo (10k): Hamunaptra is buried, but not forgotten. Rick is falling in love. Against Ardeth Bey's better judgment, Evelyn becomes curator of the Museum of Antiquities. And Jonathan, well, Jonathan sets it all in motion. On one fateful night in Cairo, our heroes come together, and bonds are formed for life. (a short one, but worth it!)

• Coincidence and Fate (12k): What if Rick had been a medjai from the start? One decision sets the adventure in motion, but the thing about decisions is that there's always more than one option to choose. Some things unfold differently, yes, but some manage to fall into place like the tumblers on a puzzle-box key, turning round and round until things go click. (another short one, but a great premise and execution)

• Fairy Tales and Hokum (162k): 1937: Two years after the events of Ahm Shere, the O’Connells are “required” by the British Government to bring the Diamond taken there from Egypt to England. In Cairo, while Evelyn deals with the negotiations and Rick waits for doom to strike again, Jonathan bumps into an old friend of his from university, Tom Ferguson. Things start to go awry when the Diamond is stolen from the Museum and old loyalties are tested... (...this one's mine 😅 Sorry for the plug. Evy and Rick also spend some time apart (as in he and Jonathan get kidnapped and Evy sets out to rescue them) but their relationship is Very Important.)

• After Hamunaptra (56k): In this fic, Evie and Jonathan's father is still alive, and living in their family manor outside of London. After he learns of their excavation at Hamunaptra, he excitedly calls them home to London as the British Museum is eager to see the artifacts they discovered. How do Rick and Evie handle their relationship among her upper class English family? (features delicious R/E and something I haven't seen a lot, which is Rick finding his footing in 1920s England.)

That's it for now, but I took the liberty of linking your post in a Mummy groupchat on mobile and asking for recs on your behalf there. I hope you don't mind?

Happy reading :o)

----

Oh my gosh, thank you so much! This is awesome, and I'll definitely be taking a look into all of these!

And i dont mind you linking into the mummy gc, I reaally appreciate all of this ❤❤

[unillustratedadventures]

Romantic Attachments and Their Abuse: Passion Stage, Compassion Stage, and Emotional Rape

Sometimes, in relation to romantic relationships, the label ‘passion stage’ is used to refer to the relatively short honeymoon period that occurs at the beginning of the relationship, while the label ‘compassion stage’ is used to refer to the much longer period that typically follows the honeymoon period. 

The Passion Stage (Romantic Infatuation)

Among other things, the passion stage is characterised by substantial excitement about and interest in the other person, a strong sense of shared meaning and purpose, strong motivations to be in the other person’s company, frequent physical intimacy and affection, mild distortions of cognition in the direction of idealising the other person, spontaneous fantasies about a positive future with the other person, and intense emotions that are positive and euphoric in the presence of the other person, and negative and dysphoric in the absence of the other person. 

The Compassion Stage (Romantic Love)

The passion stage cannot last; many of its aforementioned features inevitably fade in their extent. If everything has gone well, then the dissipation of the passion stage is commensurate with the arrival and increasing strength of the compassion stage, which consists in the forming of a deep and stable emotional attachment to the other person. Among other things, secure romantic attachments imply increased empathy and caring in relation to the other person, as well as deep emotional commitments to trust, loyalty, openness, and honesty in relation to the other person.

If things don’t go so well—i.e. if the two romantic partners turn out to be emotionally ill-suited to one another—then this will tend to coincide with the fact that one or both of them fails to enter the compassion stage, as the passion stage eventually begins to dissipate. It is certainly possible (though quite often emotionally painful) to share the romantic passion stage with someone without thereafter progressing into the compassion stage. Roughly-speaking, this is just to say that it is possible to be romantically infatuated with a person, and mutually to pursue such infatuation, without thereafter falling in love with that person. To romantically love another person just is to be located within the compassion stage of romantic association with that person, along with all of the emotional and behavioural consequences of this.

It is typical that a full-fledged passion stage does lead to the mutual development of a compassion stage, in which a meaningful emotional attachment is reciprocally formed. Nevertheless, mutual progression into a compassion stage is not strictly implied or necessitated by the sharing of a passion stage. In this sense, progressing through the passion stage of a romantic relationship—i.e. participating in mutual romantic infatuation—is independent of falling romantically in love.

Romantic Love (and Falling into It)

As discussed, to romantically love another person is to be in the compassion stage of a romantic association with that person (along with all of its emotional and behavioural consequences). Accordingly, to fall in love with a person romantically is just to start entering the compassion stage of a romantic association with that person.

To say that one is falling in love with another person, then, is to convey one’s awareness (during the passion stage) that one is entering the compassion stage in relation to that person, usually together with one’s knowledge that this is inexorable, or will soon be inexorable. (The inexorability or irreversibility of falling in love is typical, due to the relatively stable and profound nature of secure romantic attachments, and ultimately because of the adaptive role that romantic love has evolved to occupy ).

The Vulnerability of Romantic Love

Because secure romantic attachments imply things like increased empathy, caring, trust, honesty, etc., and because such attachments are stable and profound by nature, forming such an attachment to another person makes one uniquely vulnerable to exploitation and abuse by that person. 

Luckily, it is impossible for the recipient of a secure romantic attachment to exploit and abuse that attachment if the attachment is reciprocated. For this reason, people tend to be quite cautious during the passion stage of romantic relationships, to ensure that they and their romantic partners are gradually entering the compassion stage in unison, by reciprocally developing secure romantic attachments—and otherwise to avoid forming such an attachment altogether. 

It is also rather fortunate, in lieu of reciprocation, that any degree of functional empathy and functional conscience would preclude one from exploiting and abusing romantic attachments.

Finally, again in lieu of the reciprocation of one’s romantic attachment, but also in lieu of functional empathy or conscience on the part of the recipient of that attachment, it is fortunate that the signs of romantic love are nearly impossible to convincingly fake for any extended period of time (especially if the recipient’s affective empathy is impaired). This near-unfakeability of romantic love is due to its emotional complexity, its clear implications of relatively rare behavioural tendencies, and its variety of physiological markers (the latter being partly due to the vouchsafing function that romantic love has evolved to perform).

Emotional Rape: The Exploitation and Abuse of Romantic Love

As discussed, it tends to take a pathological impairment of empathy and conscience—i.e. pathological narcissism or psychopathy, roughly-speaking—for one to so much as attempt to exploit and abuse a romantic attachment. When a narcissist or psychopath does intend to exploit and abuse romantic love, they are forced to use strategies to compensate for the fact that romantic love is nearly impossible to convincingly fake in a sustained manner. Indeed, they are known to employ many different strategies for this purpose, broadly-speaking.  

The earliest such strategy is employed during the passion stage of a new romantic relationship. The strategy begins with love-bombing (often together with mirroring, future-faking, and so on), and culminates shorty afterwards with an apparent advancement of the compassion stage of the relationship. With respect to the normal defining characteristics of the passion stage, the love-bombing narcissist or psychopath comes on unusually strong. I.e. he or she renders the normal features of the passion stage as intense, frequent, and salient as possible (effectively condensing as much as possible within a very short period of time, while promoting a sense of profundity, specialness, and exceptionality). Then, while the passion stage is still ongoing, the narcissist or psychopath begins to fraudulently claim that he or she is falling in love with the target, and thereby conveys that he or she has begun to enter the compassion stage in relation to the target. 

This tends not to seem as hasty and ungrounded as it might otherwise have seemed, due to the sense of profundity, specialness, and exceptionality that has been engendered by the love-bombing. At this early point, the intense emotions and cognitive distortions of the passion stage are still in full swing, and have only been further amplified by the love-bombing. Moreover, narcissists and psychopaths have no trouble convincingly exhibiting the signs of being in the passion stage, not least because they might be genuine participants in this stage. (While excessive narcissism or psychopathy prevents any capacity for genuine romantic love and secure romantic attachment, narcissists and psychopaths can be capable of genuinely reciprocating romantic infatuation.)

For these reasons, and also because it is relatively early in the romantic relationship, it is not immediately obvious that the narcissist or psychopath is failing to clearly exhibit the difficult-to-fake signs of entering the compassion stage (i.e. of romantically falling in love). Indeed, at such an early point in the relationship, it is actually intuitive and expected that one’s romantic partner would not yet be exhibiting such signs in an obvious way.  Accordingly, the love-bombed target is far more likely to believe the abuser’s claims, and on this basis to dismiss ordinary precautions, lower his or her guard, and allow him or herself to begin to form a secure romantic attachment to the abuser, under the mistaken impression that this is being reciprocated. When the passion stage eventually begins to dissipate (at which point the abuser’s fraudulence would have been relatively obvious), the situation is seriously complicated by the fact that the target has already developed a stable and profound emotional attachment to the abuser, in spite of his or her usual precautions and wariness. As a result, he or she is now uniquely vulnerable to further exploitation and abuse, something that would not have been possible if the secure romantic attachment had truly been reciprocated.

When abusers manipulate others into forming secure romantic attachments in this way, and then proceed to exploit and abuse those attachments, the damaging consequences tend to be far more severe, personally violating, and long-lasting than is popularly understood. It is for good reason, and with strong conceptual validity, that this kind of romantic manipulation and abuse is described as emotional rape.

[tenyxshx-a]

About characterisation on this blog // hc. && explanations

Emotional turbulence: ever since “descending” onto Earth, Doflamingo has never felt like he belonged. He belonged in the Heavens (like the other Celestial Dragons), but after they rejected him he doesn’t even want to be associated with them anymore. Sure he’ll use them for his own purposes but he wants to destroy everything they have and watch them fall, watch them break, except they won’t rise like he did. There’s pressure on him because of himself, he wants to be strong, he wants to lead his family and wreck the world, he has no time for failure (like with Rocinante and Law), no time for petty and unimportant events. He cannot trust anyone but himself with his genuine, inner feelings and is at constant war, but never shall anyone beside himself know this. He doesn’t trust anyone and he doesn’t want to feel weak exposing his secrets and doubts. One slip of the tongue and it can all be destroyed.

He lost his left eye. The arrow shot at it completely destroyed it. He does have a glass eye as replacement but Doflamingo prefers to keep the eye shut at all times. It’s a permanent reminder of the time he was still too weak, of the time where he was humiliated and tortured. It’s a constant motivator for him to inflict permanent scars and pain onto others. Burn into them that they are below him, just as how it was burnt into him that he had yet to grasp his powers.

He’s sexual, but not really looking that much to have sex with others. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable (and he does feel a bit vulnerable when alone, naked with someone) and he also just doesn’t have much time. If he wants to get off, he’ll just do it himself. Occasionally he might just fuck someone (or some-two), but it’s actually not frequent at all. If Doflamingo actually has sex with someone, he thinks they should consider themselves incredibly lucky that he even showed interested in them to begin with.

He doesn’t chase people (except when he has a personal grudge). People come and go and while he loves pestering people who have shown great dislike towards him, rejection hurts and anyone who rejects him (in any way) is a waste of his time because clearly they can’t even comprehend how honoured they should’ve been. (Now with him holding the heart seat vacant for Law, it was a personal thing. He wanted Law’s power and he hoped that Law would hold loyalty towards him even after thirteen years, since he was the one who actually took in the child and he should be grateful for that).

Doflamingo does long for someone he can trust (try to love, or at least hold close), but first of the person would have to be just as strong as him (not stronger though, it would make him uncomfortable, though he might consider it) and second of all, he would have to be comfortable showing his weak side to them. None of his family members are an option though, since he never wants to have his family see him vulnerable or weakened. He is their king, their captain, their leader and he will lead them. They depend on him, but he doesn’t depend on them, he counts on them.

Doflamingo has severe trust issues though. He refuses to show his true self to anyone. He doesn’t even trust himself. This is why he loathes betrayal. If he actually brings himself to trust someone against his own worries in and they end up betraying him, it makes him feel like a failure, since he actually went ahead and trusted them.

Doflamingo manipulating his family and “raising them to sacrifice their lives” is not because he considered them weak or because he doesn’t care. He raises his family members this way because he wants to trust them. He can only trust them when he knows they adore and love him with their whole being, and for him (and them) it is expressed through the willingness to sacrifice their lives for him. Doflamingo never actually wants to sacrifice his family members, but if it endangers him (and the others), he will. Doflamingo sacrificed Monet and Vergo because he knew that if Kaidou came for him, the rest of the family and he would die. He weighted the options and chose to save the most of them (and of course himself).

Doflamingo accepts his family’s flaws. He has his own flaws so he won’t be hypocritical as to expect them to be perfect. That being said, he is still manipulating them and plays right into their flaws (Baby 5’s trauma of being unneeded….). Doflamingo won’t forgive anyone else who tries to misuse those flaws though.

Doflamingo suffers a lot because of Monet and Vergo’s deaths. He had never planned to sacrifice any of his family. Them being gone is another permanent reminder of failure, of how he hadn’t taken into account just how far Law would go.

Doflamingo’s relation with his head executives is a bit different than the other family members (excluding Vergo). They are different as in they know more about his “true” personality, his thoughts, his plans. They advise him and are on a somewhat higher standing than the other family members. But they do depend on him (he knows). They need him for their dream and that’s why they decided to follow him. Doflamingo will repay them by making that dream come true.

Vergo is probably the only real, true friend Doflamingo had and will have. Since he was around Doflamingo’s age when they met, he stood on equal ground with him. Unlike the head executives, he could not advise Doflamingo, since he didn’t have more experience or power or access to things. Of course, as Doflamingo rose to power and became their Young Master, Vergo went from equal status to beneath, but their relationship was always special. He trusts Vergo in a different way than his other family members and executives because he never really manipulated/sculpted him. Doflamingo inspired him and Vergo came to love and follow him, naturally.

Doflamingo appears arrogant and seems to underestimate his enemies, but he doesn’t. Except in canon because well Oda had to make Luffy win lol. On this blog, Doflamingo will not toy around with his enemies that much. He’s careful. He’s intelligent. He’s sly and cunning. Once things take a turn for the worse he will ruthlessly fight and kill them.

Doflamingo is confident in many things (his looks, his strength, his knowledge, his intelligence, his skills, his family, his leadership, his ruling of Dressrosa…) but he also has a few weaknesses and insecurities.

Doflamingo is very ticklish and sensitive on his body.

He has a hand fixation. Since he uses many of his moves with his hand and fingers, he started focusing more on them and well, shit happens.

Doflamingo loves head pats and strokes. His mom used to do it to him to calm him (and his brother) down and it will always remind him of her. It’s the best way to calm him down but he won’t let anyone do this since they don’t deserve to take his mother’s place.

Doflamingo’s actually not great with heavy drinks. In fact, he has a low alcohol-tolerance. He often intentionally gets himself drunk to blur out the world and it doesn’t take much. Hangovers are a bitch though.

He’s a very deep sleeper and this greatly worries him. He’s vulnerable during his sleep so he tries to get by on as little sleep as possible. Usually, Doflamingo leaves some strings around his bed attached to his fingers. Any movement will cause his fingers to be pulled and lightly sliced and that does wake him up.

His hands and feet are the most sensitive parts of his body. Also his neck.

He finds (cliché) romance cheesy and laughable but he does enjoy it. If someone tries to (sexually) rile him up or tease him that’s okay, but if someone genuinely does something sappy and romantic he will love it. He loves stereotypical idealised love out of the books.

Doflamingo is a very avid reader. He can recite his favourite books without problems.

Doflamingo prefers orchestral music.

Doflamingo sometimes likes cute things. He has no problem admitting it. The opinion of others doesn’t concern him. (This is also why all his Denden-mushi are dressed up like him).

Doflamingo actually likes to be carried. He used to ask the head executives to carry him when he was still a teenager. Of course, he pretended to be wounded or tired but they all actually knew he just really wanted to be carried so they just played along. Now though, it’s more difficult and he never asks anymore.

Doflamingo knew Rocinante might’ve been involved with the marines constantly tailing them (as he discussed with his head executives). He refused to believe it though, since he was still in love with the image he had from his younger brother. He never feels in place and thus, Rocinante felt like a kindred soul to him (a cast-out dragon just like him!).

Doflamingo did not consider Rocinante as part of his “family”. Rocinante had been gone for years, even Doflamingo knew this was dangerous. That’s why he decided to have Rocinante sacrifice himself. That way, he would pass away and Doflamingo would be able to hold on to the precious image he had of his younger brother, without any danger of it being ruined. But that didn’t work out and after executing Rocinante, he felt even lonelier than before. Thus, he confirmed that the family he now had was his only family. The only persons that made him feel less out of place.

Doflamingo has a great singing voice and he actually likes to sing, but only when alone. In public, he might at times hum.

Teen!Doflamingo was a hell of a rebel. He actually went against the advice of his executives, he did dangerous stuff just for the kick and “to experience it” and he just overall was a hurricane. When he got older and more involved in business he became calmer. He also had more family members to care for.

Young!Doflamingo dressed stylishly because he liked it (and also because it fit in the Underworld). As he grew older though, his fashion style went more extravagant and he cared less about appearances.

He hates his receding hairline because it is a reminder that he is ageing.

Fuck your gender norms honestly. Doflamingo doesn’t care and his family doesn’t need to care. Doflamingo decides what is acceptable for them and what not, if it doesn’t fit traditional/general views you can go screw yourself.

Doflamingo has a fear of needles. He just really dislikes how small they are and how they can pierce the skin so effectively while leaving behind such disastrous damage depending on what was injected.

He gets really excited about blood spilling and torturing, but nothing excites him more than a thrilling battle. He feels alive, he doesn’t need to worry about his insecurities or how he feels out of place. He shows his strength and skills and by wining confirms that yes, in the heat of battle, nothing matters, not even whether he belongs or not. Power matters. And he has it. Killing off someone is confirming that he is the strongest right there.

Just like all his views, his own personal feelings matter most. Hence why he has such a fluent view on “justice”. Justice doesn’t matter anyways, since he will destroy the world. Justice won’t save anyone from his wrath.

Doflamingo doesn’t really realise it himself but he does have a weakness for children. Especially children who have been wronged. They remind him of what he went through and thus, he can’t help but speculate what they can be.

Headcanon that Celestial Dragons have a certain dialect and Doflamingo can still speak it but he hides it because he doesn’t want to be associated. He also knows the North Blue dialect.

When Doflamingo first got his Devil Fruit he was actually disappointed. But then he experimented and it all went well.

Doflamingo awakened his Devil Fruit just before entering Dressrosa, after executing Rocinante. He did some extra training after that disaster. Also headcanon: Trébol was the one who knew about awakening and helped Doflamingo with it.

Doflamingo learnt Busoshoku Haki alongside Vergo from Pica. Vergo was a master-talent in it.

Headcanon: Vergo is actually related to the cloning project from Judge and Vegapunk. His natural body is stronger than usual (as seen when he fought Sanji and broke his bones) and this is also why he is so adapt with Busoshoku Haki. Trébol, Pica and Diamante got Vergo through Underworld connections.

It’s not a coincidence Diamante, Pica, Trébol and Vergo were close to where Doflamingo, Rocinante and Hooming were. They got wind of the rumours of the townspeople and well, a fallen Celestial Dragon family…

Diamante, Pica and Trébol’s dream is a world where only the strong rule and where their king, Doflamingo, destroys everything the Celestial Dragons hold. Why? Trébol is seen wearing chains (and he has a scar). He might’ve been a former slave who got away after eating his Devil Fruit and swore to get his revenge. Diamante and Trébol seem closest so they might’ve met in the Underworld. Pica seemed younger so they met him later. An outcast because of his voice, but an outcast who did have potential for violence and strength.

[l0oking-glass]

PROFILE - Part Three: Psychological Profiling

In the previous week you read an introduction on how to study an individual's use of language and micro-expressions to understand what they really think. In this part you will get introduced to profiling an individual's psychology in order to find out their motivations and primal instinct. There are a few things to consider in order to frame our minds for psychological profiling. This is not going to be a compilation of undeniable truths about the human psyche. This article will not tell you how to manipulate your friends (nor does this article condone manipulation). It will, however, give you the information to accurately predict decisions of and understand more deeply the minds of others. Nothing here is a copy and paste diagnosis (nor is anything ever). Psychological profiling takes effort and time to understand the individual at hand. That’s my caveat, now onto the good stuff.

Psychological profiling involves an understanding in 3 areas of the mind: Personality Patterns & Disorders, Mental Functioning, and Symptom Patterns (which we will not be discussing here).

PERSONALITY PATTERNS & DISORDERS

Personality refers to what one is rather than what one has. And what one is made up of 2 angles of observing: Patterns and Disorders. Technically both are the same thing, just different ways of viewing. 

Personality Patterns

Personality patterns refer to temperaments and typing systems. There are a ton of personality systems and quizzes that would group you in any number of ways. Each one has its strengths and weaknesses, and each one works in slightly differing capacities. Let’s take a look at the top 3 personality systems:

Meyers Briggs Type Indicator: Types individuals based on semi-binary statuses within 4 spectrums having to do with world view and data processing.

Extroverted vs Introverted - (energy source) High extroversion is often perceived as attention-seeking, and domineering. Low extroversion causes a reserved, reflective personality, which can be perceived as aloof or self-absorbed.

Intuition vs Sensing - (information management) Reflects the degree of intellectual curiosity, creativity and a preference for novelty and variety a person has.

Thinking vs Feeling - (decision making) Tendency to make decisions based on analytical data vs moral data.

Judging  vs Perceiving - (planning structure) Tendency to be organised and dependable, show self-discipline, act dutifully, aim for achievement, and prefer planned rather than spontaneous behaviour.

OCEAN (aka the Big 5): Types individuals based on high, medium, and low statuses within 5 behavioural spectrums.

Openness to experience - (inventive/curious vs. consistent/cautious) Openness reflects the degree of intellectual curiosity, creativity and a preference for novelty and variety a person has.

Conscientiousness - (efficient/organised vs. easy-going/careless)  Tendency to be organised and dependable, show self-discipline, act dutifully, aim for achievement, and prefer planned rather than spontaneous behaviour.

Extroversion - (outgoing/energetic vs. solitary/reserved)  High extroversion is often perceived as attention-seeking, and domineering. Low extroversion causes a reserved, reflective personality, which can be perceived as aloof or self-absorbed.

Agreeableness - (friendly/compassionate vs. challenging/detached)  Tendency to be compassionate and cooperative rather than suspicious and antagonistic towards others. It is also a measure of one's trusting and helpful nature, and whether a person is generally well-tempered or not.

Neuroticism - (sensitive/nervous vs. secure/confident) The tendency to experience unpleasant emotions easily, such as anger, anxiety, depression, and vulnerability. Neuroticism also refers to the degree of emotional stability and impulse control and is sometimes referred to by its low pole, "emotional stability".

Enneagram Type: Types individuals based on healthy and unhealthy behavioural loops originating in basic desire/fear within a world view.

Type 1: Reformer - (The world is an imperfect place. I work toward improvement )  Basic Desire: to be right; Basic Fear: of being condemned. 

Type 2: Helper - (People depend on my help. I am needed) Basic Desire: to be loved; Basic Fear: of being unloved

Type 3: Motivator - (The world values a champion. Avoid failure at all costs.) Basic Desire: to be admire ; Basic Fear: of being rejected

Type 4: Romantic - (Something's missing. Others have it. I'm different from them because I don't) Basic Desire: to understand self ; Basic Fear: of being defective

Type 5: Thinker - (The world is invasive and confusing. I need privacy to think) Basic Desire: to understand the world; Basic Fear: of being overwhelmed by the world

Type 6: Sceptic - (The world is a threatening place. I need to look to authority, but I question it.)  Basic Desire: to be secure; Basic Fear: of being abandoned

Type 7: Enthusiast - (The world is full of opportunity and options. I look forward to the future.) Basic Desire: to be happy; Basic Fear: of being deprived

Type 8: Leader - (The world is an unjust place. I am strong and I defend the innocent.)  Basic Desire: to be self-reliant; Basic Fear: of submitting to others

Type 9: Peace Maker - (My efforts won't matter to the world. It's best to keep the peace.) Basic Desire: to find union and peace; Basic Fear: of separation

Personality Disorders

Personality disorders have an unfortunate association tied to the overall concept. Yes, high degree and severe personality disorders are potentially harmful and may destroy countless relationships and/or form equally unhealthy coping mechanisms; however, not all occurrences of personality disorders are high degree or severe. In fact, what if I told you that these so called “disorders” help us function in sane and healthy capacities. A disorder is just a way of articulating natural albeit somewhat unhealthy tendencies. All personality disorders are derived from a basic emotional need that hasn’t been met, most commonly love and compassion. So you could call a high-functioning individual, who has slight tendencies of Schizoid Personality Disorder as having a Schizoid type personality. It’s a natural grouping of personality clusters within various range and adequacy of functioning.

Cluster A personality disorders

Cluster A personality disorders are characterised by odd, eccentric thinking or behaviour. They include paranoid personality disorder, schizoid personality disorder and schizotypal personality disorder.

Paranoid personality disorder

Pervasive distrust and suspicion of others and their motives

Unjustified belief that others are trying to harm or deceive you

Unjustified suspicion of the loyalty or trustworthiness of others

Hesitancy to confide in others due to unreasonable fear that others will use the information against you

Perception of innocent remarks or nonthreatening situations as personal insults or attacks

Angry or hostile reaction to perceived slights or insults

Tendency to hold grudges

Unjustified, recurrent suspicion that spouse or sexual partner is unfaithful

Schizoid personality disorder

Lack of interest in social or personal relationships, preferring to be alone

Limited range of emotional expression

Inability to take pleasure in most activities

Inability to pick up normal social cues

Appearance of being cold or indifferent to others

Little or no interest in having sex with another person

Schizotypal personality disorder

Peculiar dress, thinking, beliefs, speech or behavior

Odd perceptual experiences, such as hearing a voice whisper your name

Flat emotions or inappropriate emotional responses

Social anxiety and a lack of or discomfort with close relationships

Indifferent, inappropriate or suspicious response to others

"Magical thinking" — believing you can influence people and events with your thoughts

Belief that certain casual incidents or events have hidden messages meant only for you

Cluster B personality disorders

Cluster B personality disorders are characterized by dramatic, overly emotional or unpredictable thinking or behavior. They include antisocial personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, histrionic personality disorder and narcissistic personality disorder.

Antisocial personality disorder

Disregard for others' needs or feelings

Persistent lying, stealing, using aliases, conning others

Recurring problems with the law

Repeated violation of the rights of others

Aggressive, often violent behavior

Disregard for the safety of self or others

Impulsive behavior

Consistently irresponsible

Lack of remorse for behavior

Borderline personality disorder

Impulsive and risky behavior, such as having unsafe sex, gambling or binge eating

Unstable or fragile self-image

Unstable and intense relationships

Up and down moods, often as a reaction to interpersonal stress

Suicidal behavior or threats of self-injury

Intense fear of being alone or abandoned

Ongoing feelings of emptiness

Frequent, intense displays of anger

Stress-related paranoia that comes and goes

Histrionic personality disorder

Constantly seeking attention

Excessively emotional, dramatic or sexually provocative to gain attention

Speaks dramatically with strong opinions, but few facts or details to back them up

Easily influenced by others

Shallow, rapidly changing emotions

Excessive concern with physical appearance

Thinks relationships with others are closer than they really are

Narcissistic personality disorder

Belief that you're special and more important than others

Fantasies about power, success and attractiveness

Failure to recognize others' needs and feelings

Exaggeration of achievements or talents

Expectation of constant praise and admiration

Arrogance

Unreasonable expectations of favors and advantages, often taking advantage of others

Envy of others or belief that others envy you

Cluster C personality disorders

Cluster C personality disorders are characterised by anxious, fearful thinking or behaviour. They include avoidant personality disorder, dependent personality disorder and obsessive-compulsive personality disorder.

Avoidant personality disorder

Too sensitive to criticism or rejection

Feeling inadequate, inferior or unattractive

Avoidance of work activities that require interpersonal contact

Socially inhibited, timid and isolated, avoiding new activities or meeting strangers

Extreme shyness in social situations and personal relationships

Fear of disapproval, embarrassment or ridicule

Dependent personality disorder

Excessive dependence on others and feeling the need to be taken care of

Submissive or clingy behavior toward others

Fear of having to provide self-care or fend for yourself if left alone

Lack of self-confidence, requiring excessive advice and reassurance from others to make even small decisions

Difficulty starting or doing projects on your own due to lack of self-confidence

Difficulty disagreeing with others, fearing disapproval

Tolerance of poor or abusive treatment, even when other options are available

Urgent need to start a new relationship when a close one has ended

*Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder

Preoccupation with details, orderliness and rules

Extreme perfectionism, resulting in dysfunction and distress when perfection is not achieved, such as feeling unable to finish a project because you don't meet your own strict standards

Desire to be in control of people, tasks and situations, and inability to delegate tasks

Neglect of friends and enjoyable activities because of excessive commitment to work or a project

Inability to discard broken or worthless objects

Rigid and stubborn

Inflexible about morality, ethics or values

Tight, miserly control over budgeting and spending money

*Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder is not the same as obsessive-compulsive disorder, a type of anxiety disorder.

MENTAL FUNCTIONING

The following are the various aspects of the mental functioning of the human mind. Two terms to help you get through:

Affect is a concept used in psychology to describe the experience of feeling or emotion. Affect mediates an organism's interaction with stimuli. The word also refers sometimes to affect display, which is "a facial, vocal, or gestural behaviour that serves as an indicator of affect”.

Somatic refers to Somatic theory which is a theory of human social behaviour based loosely on the somatic marker hypothesis of António Damásio, which proposes a mechanism by which emotional processes can guide (or bias) behaviour, particularly decision-making.

Capacity for Regulation, Attention, Learning

Underlines fundamental processes that enable human beings to attend to and learn from their experiences.

Consider constitutional and maturational contributions, including:

Auditory processing and language

Visual-spatial processing

Motor planning and sequencing

Sensory modulation

and related capacities for:

Executive functioning

Memory (working, declarative, and non-declarative)

Attention

Overall intelligence

Processing affective and social cues

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning

Focused, organised, and able to learn most of the time, even under stress.

Focused, organised, calm, and able to learn except when over- or understimulated (e.g., noisy, active, or very dull setting); challenged to use a vulnerable skill (e.g., a person with weak fine motor skills is asked to write rapidly); or ill, anxious, or under stress.

Only when very interested, motivated, or captivated can attend, be calm, and learn for short periods and to limited degree (i.e., has problems with language, motor, or visual-spacial processing).

Attention is fleeting (a few seconds here or there) and/or is very active, agitated, or mostly self-absorbed, and/or lethargic or passive. Learning capacity is severely limited due to multiple “processing” difficulties.

Capacity for Relationships and Intimacy

Including depth, range, and consistency.

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning

Deep, emotionally rich capacity for intimacy, caring, and empathy, even when feelings are strong or under stress in a variety of expectable contexts.

Intimacy, caring, and empathy are present but disrupted by strong emotions and wishes such as anger or separation anxiety (e.g., person withdraws or acts out).

Superficial and need-oriented, lacking intimacy and empathy.

Indifferent to others or aloof and withdrawn.

Quality of Internal Experience (Level of Self-Regard)

Attempts to capture an individuals level of confidence and self-regard that characterises an individual’s relationship to others and the larger world.

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning

Sense of well-being, vitality, and realistic self-esteem. Present even when under stress.

Sense of well-being, vitality, and realistic self-esteem. Disrupted by strong emotions or stress, but with eventual recovery of feelings of well-being.

Feelings of depletion, emptiness, and incompleteness, along with self-involvement unless experiences are nearly “perfect”. Self-esteem is vulnerable.

Depletion, emptiness, incompleteness and self-involvement dominate.

Affective Experience, Expression, & Communication

Individuals ability to express the full range of pre-representational and representational patterns of affects.

Note: The following descriptions combine the individual’s capacity to experience, comprehend, and express affects. Some individuals are relatively stronger or weaker in either affect comprehension or affective expression. Similarly, individuals differ in the way they express or comprehend affects through gestures, such as facial expressions or voice tone, as well as with words. These unique patterns should be captured in the narrative characterising the individual.

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning 

Most of the time uses  wide range of subtle emotions and wishes in a purposeful manner, even under stress. Reads and responds to most emotional signals flexibly and accurately even when under stress (e.g., comprehends safety vs. danger, approval vs. disapproval, acceptance vs. rejection, respect vs. humiliation, partial anger, etc.).

Often purposeful and organised, but not with a full range of emotional expressions (e.g., seeks out others for closeness and warmth with appropriate glances, body posture, and the like, but becomes chaotic, fragmented, or aimless when very angry). Often accurately reads and responds to a range of emotional signals, except in certain circumstances involving selected emotions and wishes, very strong emotions and wishes, or stress.

Some need-oriented, purposeful islands of behaviour and emotional expressions. No cohesive larger integrated emotional patterns. In selected relationships can read basic intentions of others (such as acceptance or rejection), but unable to read subtle cues (e.g., respect, pride, or partial anger).

Mostly aimless, fragmented, unpurposeful emotional expressions (e.g., no purposeful grins, smiles, or reaching out with body posture for warmth or closeness). Distorts the intentions of others (e.g., misreads cues and therefore feels suspicious, mistreated, unloved, angry, etc.).

Defensive Patterns & Capacities

Highlights the way the individual attempts to cope with and alter wishes, affect, and other experiences, and the degree to which he or she distorts experience in the process.

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning

Demonstrates an optimal capacity to experience a broad range of thoughts, affects, and relationships and handles stresses with minimal use of defences that suppress or alter feelings and ideas. Tends to use defences and coping strategies that support flexibility and healthy emotional functioning, including sublimations, altruism, humour, etc.

Makes use of defences to keep potentially threatening ideas, feelings, memories, wishes, or fears out of awareness, without significant cant distortion of experiences. May use defences, such as intellectualisation and rationalisation, and, to a limited degree repression, reaction formation, and displacement.

Makes extensive use of defences that distort experience and/or limit the experience of relationships in order to deal with internal and external stressors and to keep feelings and thoughts out of awareness. Uses defences such as disavowal, denial, projection, splitting, and acting out.

Demonstrates a generalised failure of defensive regulation leading to a pronounced break with reality through the use of delusional projection and psychotic distortion.

Capacity to Form Internal Representations

Concerns the individual’s capacity to symbolise affectively meaningful experience (i.e., to organise experience in a mental, rather than somatic or behavioural form). This capacity to represent or mentalise enables the individual to use ideas to experience, describe, and express internal life.

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning

Uses internal representations to experience a sense of self and others and to express the full range of emotions, wishes. Able to use internal representations to regulate impulses and behaviour.

Uses internal representations to experience a sense of self and others and to express a range of emotions, wishes, except when experiencing selected conflicts or difficult emotions and wishes. Able to use internal representations to inhibit impulses.

Uses representations or ideas in a concrete way to convey desire for action or to get basic needs met. Does not elaborate on a feeling in its own right (e.g., “I want to hit but can’t because someone is watching” rather than “I feel mad”). Often puts wishes and feelings into action (i.e., impulsive behaviour) or into somatic states (”my stomach hurts”).

Unable to use internal representations to experience a self and others or to elaborate wishes and feelings (e.g., acts out or demands excessive physical closeness when needy).

Self-Observing Capacity

Concerns the individual’s ability to observe his or her own internal life.

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning

Can reflect on (i.e., observe and experience at the same time) a full range of own and others’ feelings or experiences (including subtle variations in feelings). Can reflect both in the present and with respect to a longer-term view of self, values, and goals. Can reflect on multiple relationships between feelings and experiences, across the full range of age-expected experiences in the context of new challenges.

Can reflect on feelings or experiences of self and others both in the present and with reference to a longer-term view of a sense of self, values, and goals for some age-expected experiences, but not others. Cannot be reflective in this way when feelings are strong.

Can reflect on moment-to-moment experiences, but not with reference to a longer-term sense of self and experiences, values, and goals.

Unable to reflect genuinely on feelings or experiences, even in the present. Self-awareness consists often of polarised feeling states or simple basic feelings without an appreciation of subtle variations in feelings. Self-awareness is lacking, and there may be a tendency toward fragmentation.

Capacity for Differentiation & Integration

Individuals ability to build logical bridges between internal representations (i.e., to separate fantasy from reality and to construct connections between internal representations of wishes, affects, self and object relationships, and the past, present, and future).

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning

Is able to connect internal experiences of self and non-self; self and others; fantasy and reality; past, present, and future; and a range of wishes, emotions, and feeling states. Can separate and comprehend differences in these patterns of internal experiences.

Is able to differentiate and integrate experience, but with some constriction. Strong emotions, wishes, and selected specific emotions, wishes, or stresses can lead to the temporary fragmentation or polarisation (all-or-nothing extremes) of internal experience.

The capacities for differentiation and integration are limited to just a few emotional realms (e.g., very superficial relationships). Challenges outside these limited areas often lead to the fragmentation or polarisation (all-or-nothing extremes) of internal experience.

Internal experience is fragmented most of the time. For example, unable to make emotionally meaningful differentiation of experiences of self and non-self, past and present, or different wishes and feelings.

Capacity to Construct or Use Internal Standards and Ideals (Sense of Morality)

An outgrowth of other mental functions and an integration of a number of them, the capacity to formulate internal values and ideals reflects a consideration of one’s self in the context of current and future experiences.

Illustrative Descriptions of the Range and Adequacy of Functioning

Internal standards are flexible and integrated with a realistic sense of one’s capacities and social contexts. They provide opportunities for meaningful striving and feelings of self-esteem. Feelings of guilt are used as a signal for reappraising one’s behaviour.

Internal standards and ideals tend to be rigid. They are not sufficiently sensitive to one’s own capacities and social contexts. Feelings of guilt are experienced more as self-criticism than as a signal for reappraising one’s behaviour.

Internal standards, ideals, and sense of morality are based on harsh, punitive expectations. Feelings of guilt are denied and associated with acting out, depression, or both.

Internal standards, ideals, and sense of  morality are, for the most part, absent.

PUTTING TOGETHER THE PROFILE

All of this information is great! How do you use it. Using it involves processing it into an easy to understand format. I like to call this format the profile. A simple page of information organised and laid out for quick understanding. It varies, however, often looks like this:

Name: Last, M. First Age: x Sex: x Personality Patterns: MBTI/OCEAN/Enneagram P Axis - Personality Disorders: Low/Medium/High functioning within clusters M Axis - Mental Functioning: Basic description of mental capacities S Axis - Subjective Experience: Basic descriptions of individual’s experiences Healthy Loops: x, x, x.... Unhealthy Loops: x, x, x.... Notes: All excess information that has yet to become categorisable

CONCLUSION

Humans are complex, beautiful, messy creatures. It’s important to revisit my caveat at the beginning of this post. I’ll sum it up: Nothing here is a copy and paste diagnosis (nor is anything ever). Psychological profiling takes effort and time to understand the individual at hand. Use this knowledge with care.

- M.C.

That’s it for the Profile Series. We hope you found it enjoyable and informative. The purpose of this particular series was supposed to be to help you create a loose structure for learning each of these types of profiling more intensely later on. Here at Looking Glass we want you to have as much information for building a potent mental prowess of observation and deduction. It’s important to us that you receive a quality experience. So, if you have questions or concerns, you can send them to us on our blog at the Ask Us Anything page.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Ima assume this you asking these to me, if not I apologise 😅

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1. Favourite piece I've ever read has got to be a fanfic called Hourglass of Stars by Homura Bakura. It is a Yugioh 5ds/Yugioh GX crossover with Yusei x Judai.

Basically after the events of bonds beyond time, Judai out of nowhere appears in the future in Yusei's workshop and falls unconscious. When he wakes up he has no memory of why he's here, only that something is after Yusei.

It calls back to a lot of GX and 5ds, and while I don't ship Yusei and Judai very much I really like how there both written. Judai is characterised really well and it's nice seeing him happy and healing, also his powers are very well handled and he and Aki get to bond.

It gets pretty insane and it is quite long but it's a comfort of mine.

.

2. My favourite thing I've written is kinda werid because it's not finished, but it's on here and on my A03, SparkyIceblaze and it's Behind the Hockey Mask.

(Shocker it's not the Yugioh GX one 😂, granted I love that too but yeah suprise.)

Which is a teenage mutant ninja turtle 2012 fanfic that focuses on Casey Jones. It's a rewrite esque retelling of the story from when he gets introduced.

I grew up watching tmnt 2012, and my favourite character is Casey Jones. I have tried to write a fanfic like this before, and while I enjoyed the two I did write this feels like the final version.

This is the thing I wanted it to be. I get to explore a character I love that is so underatted and underused, give him a fully fleshed out backstory and show him healing from his past and present and finding a home with the turtles, Splinter and April.

Its kinda like my love letter to the character, what I envisioned him being, what I love about his character from the 2012 version as well as Casey in the tmnt IDW comics that I've started. As well as revisiting the turtles and how he shapes the world around him.

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16. You want me to pick my favourite AU... I have to pick from one of my babies? 😂 My favourite AU is probably Experiment ZARC.

Apparently I just enjoy making Leo Akaba a bigger bastard than he already is? I love creating the backstory for Zarc, it started out as kinda a joke that he had the same name as the technology they were using and came to this.

Ray is such an important character that we never really see apart from the end of the series and Declan is so underatted.

I love the idea of showing how Leo's actions affected this trio, and how they found themselves and in Declan's case rebuild himself. Because Declan lost everything and having him find a family and share that burden with others in the Lancers is awesome.

And Zarc being villianised and Ray as this kind of matyr the series gave us just felt like something Leo would do. This AU is also inspired a lot by Danganronpa, specially the second game and what happened with Hajime and also Five Nights at Freddys.

William and Leo man are very similiar.

And taking that and making this world, that's both so heartfelt and also so... Like Leo did some awful things and showing yeah he was awful but everyone was able to still return and heal themselves and what he did.

I dunno I just enjoy it a lot, and there's still a lot of other stuff I want to tell focusing on the trio on particular. Because this is there story, the story Leo wanted to hide.

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17. My favourite ship is Percico, Percy Jackson X Nico Di Angelo.

I have shipped them since I was reading the books all those years ago. There story as a love story is both something so sweet and funny because of their personalities but also so tragic when applied to Canon.

Because they are two people who could never be together, torn by loyalty, expectations and revenge. And yet both still care for each other tremendously, and would go to the ends of the earth for each other. I definitely prefer Percy ending up with Nico than Annabeth.

I just see them working and they've been there for each other, and I just love them.

A great fic for any Percico Harry Potter fans is on wattpad called Percico goes to Hogwarts. They both realise they like each other, quote a lot of Disney and its just a lot of fun.

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21. I dunno if it's just me but I feel like stories naturally have an end. That your reading something and you get to a point where it feels like everything's been sorted, the big bad defeated and all that and it feels like yeah this wraps up.

That to me is the end. If it goes on longer than its too long and needs to justify and tell me why it is longer.

As far as actual length, I'd say idk more than 20 chapters, anything more than 400 pages. Again, I think needs to justify why.

To me and the books I read that's about where it ends if it's longer than that it's fine but to me there needs to be a reason as to why it is so long, why do we need this.

And yeah, that's all. I hope this was somewhat interesting it was fun for me 😊.

Random Writer/Reader Ask Game

1. What’s your favorite piece you’ve ever read?

2. What’s your favorite piece you’ve ever written?

3. What font do you type in the most?

4. Is there any red flags that turn you off from a story?

5. What’s the platform you post on the most?

6. What platform do you read on?

7. Do you have a favorite fandom to read/write about?

8. Who’s your favorite POV to write in?

9. Who’s your least favorite POV to write in?

10. Is there a character you refuse to read about?

11. What’s your favorite trope?

12. Who’s your favorite character to read about?

13. What inspired you to start writing?

14. What was the first fandom you read fanfic for?

15. Do you remember what the first thing you wrote was?

16. What’s your favorite AU?

17. What’s your favorite ship?

18. What’s your least favorite ship?

19. A mutual who’s writing you really like?

20. How do you feel about songfics?

21. When do you think a story is too long?

22. What’s your longest fic?

[dishonoredrpg]

Congratulations, CAS! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE with the faceclaim of ANYA CHALOTRA. What is there to say, really, about Vasylia? What isn’t there to say? She’s marvelous. She’s everything I wanted in a WOF app that I felt was necessary to display their conflict, which is centric to who they are as a character. You hit every point, you crossed every T, and you sure did dot every single I you came across. I kept on thinking that it couldn’t get any better, but the farther I scrolled, it did. You have put, on full display, someone who is rotting from the inside out and is helpless to do anything save for watch, and I am genuinely overjoyed to have you with us. Vasylia has such a broad stroke of potential -- I can’t wait to see what you do with her.

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

OOC NAME: Cas PRONOUNS: She/her AGE: 22 TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: BST / I tend to work during the day and write at night, but that suits me since everyone else tends to be a good five hours behind me TMZ-wise. As I’ve recently learned, I’m not actually very... quick when writing haha but I log in every day and try to post a reply at least once every other day. Always around and contactable on Discord for plotting and chatting! I’d say 7/10. TRIGGERS: N/A ANYTHING ELSE?: I tried to write around The High Priestess as much as I could but given they’re responsible for The Wheel of Fortune’s way of life it was difficult to avoid her, so happy to revise any details with the player. Also my background is so long I’M SORRY but tysm for reading uwu This application includes mentions of death, child death, self harm, blood, strangulation and suicide ideation.

IN CHARACTER SKELETON: The Wheel of Fortune NAME: Vasylia FACECLAIM: Anya Chalotra, Diana Silvers, Victoria Pedretti (in order) AGE: 35 (appears 12 years younger) DETAILS: I think what drew me to The Wheel of Fortune was that it would be easy to make their character all about Necromancy. About this sickness they can slowly feel settling into their bones. But they’re a person too, with a name and a history. Their relationship with magic is more complex than feeling the ache of it and the decision to stop it. There’s a heaviness to their story, a burden that they must carry, and I had fun experimenting quite how far that extends beyond the weight of their abilities. I believe it’s important for them to be a person before all this, because they have to have something to return to; there has to be something pulling them back from numbness, from giving the pieces of themselves away. The skeleton is a mirage of contradictions: numbness and intensity; resignation and sheer will; anxiety and power; death and life. I’m always enamoured by characters who inherently contradict themselves. Who, try as they might, cannot reconcile themselves to a single thing. The Wheel of Fortune has clearly shifted between these opposites their entire life, sometimes without even knowing it, and in spite of this dizzying dance from one extreme to another, there are moments where they feel paralysed. I find that so compelling, because as a card The Wheel of Fortune is all about movement, change - and yet, I can’t think of a better way to characterise them. Dealt upright, the card is chance, opportunity, destiny. Reversed: misfortune, disappointment, the loss of one’s way. All these facets are scattered in their body, and this will continue to be so until they carve out their way. They are always in the grip of a power they can’t quite reconcile themselves to, seized by the piercing thought that only lifetime after lifetime of static numbness awaits them, and that they must endure it alone. This power of theirs is a balancing act, and balancing requires commitment, devotion. They’re a conduit, almost, for this raw energy to pass through, and it takes its toll. Already, they have carved out a space in their own heart and, very slowly, it is being filled in with black, rotting dust. You’d have to be a monster not to feel for them; after all, they spent much of their childhood spilling their soul into things that didn’t matter because they were told to. Because they had no idea of the consequences. Necromancy in this world is such a profound experience, at once ingrained in the very essence of humanness and the severing of any real feeling. It goes beyond that, even; some lose their fingers, their limbs, and some are forced to drag their body across this world until the Undying God finally takes them. What does it feel like to feel the movement of life, the very energy that creates animals and people and worlds, the soul of everything, pass through your fingers? It must be one of the most intense feelings in the universe - and yet, it’s deadening. After a while, that raw power can no longer be felt merely in your hands. It’s floating in your body, your hands cut from you, and now all you feel is the heaviness of it, with nowhere to store it except between your chest. This skeleton really resonated with me. I really believe that without passion and heart and intense feeling, the world would be a very dull place. I like the idea of The Wheel of Fortune being totally stifled by this process, swallowed up by uncertainty and receiving very little support to navigate that. It’s a fate they accepted for themselves, willingly, and just as Necromancy lingers hesitantly at their fingertips, they’re not sure they have the strength to pull away. Even further, they are not even certain that’s what they want. Out of gratitude or for their own sake, this is the path they’ve chosen, and it is one they feel obligated to complete. That is the truth they choose to stomach: learn, without sacrificing who you are. Be both. But they’re slipping through the cracks; hesitation hangs at the back of their throat and chokes them. It’s a frightening thought to think that you must simply swallow the void, because all of this must be weathered. All of it must be endured, because that is the price you pay for power. Tldr; they’re a deeply tragic character but, like their card, there is opportunity for change. Their soul has been chipped away, bit by bit, and the weight of their power is beginning to settle into their bones. But it doesn’t have to be that way. The beauty of The Wheel of Fortune is that, with enough tenacity, their future is their own. Stay, leave; give in, break away. All depends on which way the cards are facing! BACKGROUND: I. THE FOOL, UPRIGHT innocence, new beginnings, free spirit The first thing a child sees in its life is its mother, and you are no different. The first thing you know is her, penniless enough that your infanthood would have been nothing short of unremarkable but provided for enough that she could have kept you if she’d wanted to. She has had children before, and she’s felt the billowing warmth that childrearing lends her, but you are stealing something from her. Your mother cannot quite place the feeling, cannot understand what it is you’re doing to her, but when she holds you in her arms she feels her limbs growing heavier, her muscles deaden. You must be, she determines, a punishment - so she resolves to rid herself of you. More important than that, she resolves to make an offering of you. The woman makes the long, arduous journey from Tyrholm, averts road bandits and street beggars and pardoners swearing by religious forgeries; she pushes herself halfway across Markholm with only her conviction to drive her. She commits you to the Temple of the Undying, and this is something she wants known. She wants the great, bipartite deity to know that this largesse of hers is an immolation, a symbol of her devotion. In return, she would have the punishment lifted. And you never see your mother again. The temple names you Vasylia, assuming the role of a strange, distant mother who plucks the word from between the stars. You have no surname and therefore no genesis, nothing to remind you where you come from and who you are. Of course, as you well know now, none of that matters. As soon as you pass the threshold of that sacred place, it forges an identity for you. (Your heritage is a secret that tucks itself away from you, like a shadow that shies from the light. You are the result of a union between a travelling merchant and a beautiful, beautiful woman, and this is all your mother has to protect her in life. Those who covet beauty, who wish to steal it away and display it among their wares, are always equipped with a lie or two. The lie is this: he loves her, he does; devotedly, honestly, purely, and he wants her to join him. To travel with him over pale waves and into the cove of pirates. Perhaps he’d believed in that at first, but it ends as all things end; in fiction. He leaves her as all men leave her, with an enormous pouch of gold. Your mother settles in a village at the border of Volkan Forest. You do not live there long. You never learn your mother’s name. Her name is Estrid.) Life at the Temple is, for the most part, simple. Dull, pedestrian, but simple. Abandoned, you are raised as one amongst many, a single child amidst a whole throng of neglected children. It quickly becomes clear to you that some wield magical abilities, shielded from a world which harshly forejudges them, and some arrive with nothing to them at all. Like you: not even a name. Some of them are sickly, a few of them are malnourished, and far too many of them are the reluctant offspring of poverty, charily offered to the Temple by parents who lament of their penury. But you are not sickly or malnourished or magical, even. You wail out in the dark of night for a mother who doesn’t want you, but which child here does not? At least at first, there is nothing particularly special about you. You are still a child waiting to grow into yourself, and, well, there is nothing unusual about that fact. Your childhood is, in a word, unremarkable. The Temple does its best to inspire loyalty in the offspring yielded to them - you are, after all, an opportunity for life-long indoctrination. Your earliest days are structured by a conformity which they shake into your bones: the Temple teaches you of the wolves and the snakes and the annihilating body they make as one. On magic, their position is less clear. Messages are mixed. Necromancers are a chosen, sacred few. But the other magi are being punished, cursed for a cycle of blasphemy and adultery and theft and anything else they can conjure up. As with all children, you assume the first thing you hear as gospel, but as the years gallop past you, you find yourself cordoned off by a low drone. The Temple is not so united as it seems, and there are people who whisper in disagreement. You think you are beginning to notice the resentment growing around you, but you are still a child - you know nothing. You determine that it is safer to be ordinary. You cannot quite be called pious, but you rise with the morning light. You work hard. You devote time to your prayers and you comply with the codes of silence which linger between them. You restock ink and parchment for the Clerics working sedulously at translation. You trim the rose bushes at the edge of the forest. You are untroublesome and, for the most part, amenable; shapeable. You offer a hand to help wherever it may be required, because that is what you’ve always been taught to do. You are nothing much like some of the other children, boisterous and ambitious, hungry for stories of politics and warfare. Hankering to feel the weight of a bronze rapier in their hands, to run their fingers through enemies’ blood and call it an act of cleansing. The Temple is not cruel, but it is cyclical, and the pattern is not enough - for them or for you. But you do as you’re told, your life moves in a progressive rhythm, because what else is there? You have always needed a hand to guide you. When life drifts in a sequence it all blurs into one, so you find solace in the small things. You revel in the sanctuary of the forest. Its trees keel into spirals, bent by the weight of their branches. You like the stillness of the air, the way that the birds settle on the branches so completely at peace - unaware of the eyes watching them. You learn that silence is not solitude, that the reticences observed by the Temple do not always bring you peace. In fact, they rarely ever bring you peace, and at times they have the tendency to strangle you. You marvel at the way the water refracts in the moonlight, bending with the shape of its brilliance. It moves furtively and secretly, as if beneath the surface there is buried a whole other world that it hopes to keep concealed. You are never the sort of girl with fantasies mirrored from the vellum of a fairytale book, and you never touch things so delicately that you look to be afraid of them. You would never call yourself a dreamer, but there’s an intensity to you which makes it hard for you to stop staring at things. There are only a couple of children in the Temple you ever feel particularly close to, and when you think back, they are the only things you feel are worth remembering here. Curled up on a stony ledge, watching a religious darkness fall over the ancient rock. Organising altars and scrubbing floorboards and observing silences with a dash of humour. You have never truly felt like you belong anywhere, except when you lay down in the grass or you sit on the cold stone and run your fingertips through the water, imagining that you are somewhere else. It makes this place feel a little less dull. II. THE HIEROPHANT, UPRIGHT education, knowledge, beliefs It is perhaps no coincidence that it’s during your sixteenth Summertide that you first raise an animal from the dead, completely by accident. A butterfly, crushed beneath the weight of a snow which is only now beginning to thaw. You cannot describe what brought you to pick it up. Beauty? You have always looked beneath the surface. Macabre as the very idea of it may be, you cannot not help but take it into your hand. You feel its limp body balance in your palm like parchment: you want it to be beautiful again. And as if by magic, it shifts in your palm, it wakes. Half-amazed and half-afraid, you watch how its wings unfurl themselves and its body cracks and distorts itself back into shape. But you are overcome by something strange: the insect sits in the centre of your palm, learning about the world again, but if you were blind you wouldn’t know it. You can’t feel it there. By instinct you clasp your hands around it and bring it into the Temple and, perhaps foolishly, you show them what you have done. The Temple determines that it is no coincidence that your gift for rebirth, the very echo of Summertide, should reveal itself now. It’s an ancient celebration of renaissance. Fate twists, and the Temple has two Necromancers already, devoted to the craft and resolved to educate you. Educate perhaps puts it generously: they test you, push you, assign you tasks to complete without any tangible goal in sight. They never teach you what it takes, what you must sacrifice, what it truly means to excavate that void between life and death. This is the truth of it: you have been chosen by the Undying Herself and this gift is yours to own, but as with all things we take, it demands sacrifice. A piece of you, snapped off from bone; it lingers there at your side. They teach you that you are different, you are special. The other magi can manipulate solid matter and regenerate limbs, but you are sacred. They will not see twenty-five years, but you? You can live for hundreds of years. Your schooling begins small. Insects, mice, small woodland creatures. But it’s a demanding, exhausting process -  still, you continue to work hard. When you’d brought back that butterfly on the third day of Summertide, it had seemed so easy. A case of simply wishing and being. But things are not so easy now. You find it difficult to pour that same longing into the creatures put down in front of you; you are more sophisticated, less candid. But you do as you’re told, make as many successes as you do failures, and for whatever end goal the Necromancers have in mind for you, you progress. Then, as if you have not already experienced enough change, the world spins carelessly on its side. You are eighteen and you have been under the tutelage of the Necromancers for just under two years. You feel you are drifting away from the green beauty of that first instance, the first time you bartered with the universe and it chose to answer you. But you are still just a child and your teachers have lived for hundreds of years. Unfortunately, you learn that Necromancers are dangerous, they’re volatile, they’re lethal, and that includes you. It takes little more than the impetuosity of a boy sat next to you at dinnertime, for him to waggishly swipe the bread roll from your plate - as children are mischievously wont to do - for you to wreak tragedy. The action irritates you, infuriates you, even, because you have less patience for things now. You snatch the roll from his hands. Without warning, he collapses, body limp on the floor. You are puzzled at first, you’d scarcely touched him, but as the Brethren roll his body over on the stone, you realise what you have done. The boy is dead. The boy is dead, and you’re learning your emotions have consequences. But this you’ve forgotten. You’ve scrubbed it from your skin raw, as if that will absolve you. Things are accelerating. You perform your lessons largely in isolation. You are kept away from the other children, particularly those who hope to take vows, because you are dangerous, you cannot be contained. Your tutors take the opportunity to teach you more diligently, more industriously. Your accomplishments are growing: frogs, small birds, rabbits. But the hours are slipping away and you don’t understand what it’s all for, bringing back forest animals contentedly buried beneath the moss. Nevertheless, you move forward. You think you are getting better at this. When you have lived for twenty years, they bring you live animals; they show you how to drain them, how to cleave to your youth. The work you are performing is an honour. You have always needed a hand to guide you. Something has changed in you. The forest recedes from you. You wake and you learn and you perform and you dream empty, hollow dreams in an unbroken cycle. More often than not you lie awake for hours, allowing your eyes to rest on a rotting mark in the corner of the ceiling. You smile still and you try to laugh, but as each chuckle worms its way up your throat you feel it strangle you in the process. Sometimes you cough up blood, thick and hard, and you stare at the red spot in confusion. One day, you catch your hand on a piece of shattered glass and feel nothing. You don’t even flinch. At the wound you simply stare and, out of curiosity perhaps, or a pointed desire to hurt at something, you pick up a shard of glass and feel the weight of it in your fingers. And with all the force you have, you burrow it into your flesh. That, you feel. You drop the glass, wincing, and a hot tear rolls down your cheek. You lie in your bed and wish on a comet for somebody to steal you away from this place. You whisper it into existence. But in the morning you wake and everything is the same. A blur settles into your bones. Things are a cycle, so much more so than when your life had begun. But you know nothing else. You stay. III. THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE, UPRIGHT change, cycles, inevitable fate In your life you have learned much. How to raise animals from the dead. How to canalise energy away from the living and into your bones. You have learned that things change, of course they do, but they also stay the same. For people like you, life motionlessly moves from one event to the next. You remember the day that your life had spun so carelessly on its axis once again with such precision that, at times, you are sure that you are back there. You think that you are back at the Temple, raising rabbits and drawing the lifeforce from dandelions. You think that the clouds are weeping into the earth with salted rain, and the chill of your salvation buries itself into you. By now, you know she is not your deliverance. There is nothing holy in her but power, and how she revels in it. The woman alights on the Temple without a horse, without a thing to carry her here, and if you had ever been a foolish sort of girl you might have assumed she’d undertaken the journey on foot. But you have never been a fool. You are twenty-five years old. A solemn cold which seems to swell in her at once brings you a much-desired quiet and chills you to the bone. To your surprise, all bow to her. Cower from her. Even your teachers are beneath her. With purpose she pulls you aside, ungloves your hands and takes them in her own, and she promises you that the two of you are the same. She does not fear you, and you have no cause to fear her. You are cut from the same dust and made from the same bones - there’s divinity in that. Like you, she can raise the dead, and what’s more: she’s good at it. Perhaps for the first time in your life you are asked what it is that you want. You feel like the decision is yours. She offers you an ultimatum: remain here, raise rabbits and mice and crows, be nothing; or join her, learn the craft, study beneath her, become something. While you are torn between your desire to flee this place and a thick, breathless lump which lingers at the back of your throat unexplained, it is never really a question. It is an answer. You pack up everything you own: garments, mementos, fear and desire, all. You accept willingly, unthinkingly, blindly. You pass through the egress and step into a shimmering new world. Even now, that is the only way you can think to describe this place. This new world you have chosen for yourself coruscates beneath the light as if in dance. It’s a world that winks like glitter - Castle Tyrholm is so unlike anything you’ve ever known. By now you are so accustomed to rough hems and the bland taste of food on your tongue that you have forgotten there was anything else. You only know things bland and bloodless, humble devotions. But here? Here, they dress lavishly. Here, they eat lavishly. Here, they live lavishly. You stand at the fortress’ great, impressive windows and you contentedly watch the way the pale waves lick at the black stone, the way the castle bends over the waves and balances on top of the rockline. It’s more than regal: it’s thunderous, luxurious, rich. Of course, you know a little better now. You know that glitter catches in the corner of your eye. It has the tendency to blind you, to force you to look at things between the sequins of a kaleidoscope, all twisted and torn out of shape. You have been under The High Priestess’ tutelage for two years now, and you feel your life bisecting into two distinct worlds. You must reconcile yourself to that. Statesmanship has very little in common with religion, and unfortunately, that’s all you know. Religion is devotion, fidelity, constancy. Whatever fidelity you see before you has been rigorously shaped, re-wrought in the shadows for years, and that is the only constant here. Still, it does not shake you. Your first lesson is this: you must cut the history of yourself out into stone. You do. You become a silhouette which cleaves to your mentor’s side, a thing that can’t be shaken. Like a shadow you observe the way your mentor manoeuvres; the way she holds her tongue and the way she weaponises it; the way she plumes and crows and deceives as if she’s been doing it for a thousand years. You watch the way that King Septimus’ hands move with hers, shifting in mirrored gestures - like she has attached strings. You become an accepted prerequisite at her side, a creeping outline which follows her devotedly. Part of your status, you brush shoulders with some of the king’s most trusted advisors - you attend assemblies, convocations gathered in the throne-room. You are so far from home now; wherever your home is, wherever it was. You are beginning to learn the meaning of diplomacy: one keeps a knife permanently unsheathed beneath their cloak. Your instructor resolves to fill in the gaps that the Temple left barren: you learn what you must give up for this gift, you learn of all the grief it has caused you. This is a magic you watch her lean into so deeply at times you think she’ll splinter apart - but, of course, she never has. Never will. This is a truth that lies uneasily in your stomach. It lies heavily on your lungs and it chokes you. You can feel your heart climbing up and down your windpipe - you aim to seize it in your hands, to still it, but you can only retch at it. You’ve lost count of all the creatures you’ve poured yourself into, and you wonder where all those pieces of you are now. The fading feeling of your bones makes sense now, at least; the universe is a glutton and it has been stealing from you. You never even knew the rules of the game. The king’s physician brings you animals to practice upon. The High Priestess teaches you the most painless portions of yourself to sacrifice: you learn the things you need and the things you can go without. Your abilities are growing, and with that you feel the weight in your chest shift a little - things are becoming easier to swallow. You learn the importance of giving back: to creatures, to people, but also communities, dynasties. Yours are regular faces in the Farmlands which edge on Tyrholm. Here, you resurrect animals, livelihood; they are indebted to you both. One day, a farmer’s son slips from a ladder, cracks his skull open on the coarse ground. The High Priestess takes the opportunity to teach, to have you bring him back. But too much of you clings to the Temple, the way its cold was settling into your bones. The High Priestess’ dissatisfaction is evident. You’ve been studying beneath her for three years now, and still you have not raised a body. She wants you to look at this world without Necromancy directly in the eye: destruction, death, misery. You cast your eye down to the boy and swallow the lump growing in your throat. Grief. As painless as breathing, your teacher brings their son back. The world is better with Necromancers, she has resolved. Dutiful, devoted, you have resolved that as well. You have always needed a hand to guide you. As part of your schooling, you ride out with your mentor and Tyrholm’s great military army. To squash rebellion, to quell revolt. The two of you are never far from each other - you are a shadow clinging to a shadow. There’s something about the way that you both sit, regal and harrowing above your white horses, lingering like death at the rear of Septimus’ forces. You are a lethal sight, but your power is not enough. Not yet. You arch over the body of a fallen soldier, but something is stopping you. You try, you really try, but you fail. Half-alive, he blinks back at you. A lungful vibrates at the back of his throat. His chest rises and falls with air, but is nothing in his eye to suggest he recognises the figure bending over him. It is half a failure - but half a failure is still a failure. You have given him nothing human. As if flowing over water, your mentor dismounts her horse and puts an end to her experiment. She doesn’t look at you. You don’t look at you. Sometimes, you can’t bear to. But your failures do not last forever. When you are thirty-two, you animate a body. At last. It has taken you seven years, seven long years of unlearning the Temple’s way, but at last, success. Of all the places you manage it, it is on the battlefield, and you are in your element. Surrounded by blood and warfare and death - ah, always death. You are getting better at this. At night, you rest your head down on your pillow and you dream. You dream of your hands, reaching out. The Undying God reaches back. You feel you are becoming one with Her. IV. THE HIGH PRIESTESS, REVERSED repressed intuition, confusion, dissonance You are a vault of fears, but you have spent these last ten years bent on throwing away the key. For the last decade you have been following your mentor indiscriminately, almost blindly, and while you are finally beginning to make progress, you are also beginning to feel that haze gather around your fingertips, weighing down your wrists. You feel yourself swallowing the sensation at times. You don’t like to close your eyes. If you do, you think you are back at the Temple, raising creatures injudiciously, feeling your soul taunt you in the air between you. A cold is settling into your bones again. Your dreams turn themselves inside out and empty themselves when you finally fall asleep, and when you wake in the morning you are confronted with a sense that your emotions have slipped out of you in the night. That you have slipped out of you in the night. Your fingers pressed to rotting flesh, you decide that the bodies you have brought up in halves are warnings. As their eyes roll demonically back into their skull and the listlessness of their breath catches at the back of their throat, you cannot help but think that your half-failures are warning you. That this is what awaits you should you consider to amble down this narrow path. Not death, but instead life: long, death-defying, rotten life. A life of nullity stretches out in front of you, like a void that opens its black mouth and eats you raw. Impassibility is creeping into you, settling into the spaces between your bones and lungs. The taste of blood in your mouth has recently returned to you, though you only notice it when you can taste at all; you cannot determine whether being able to feel it flip thickly over your tongue brings you a sense of peace or horror. When you slip your rings over your fingers, heavy with all the ore you could never have afforded when you were young, you can’t feel them there. You feel ancient impressions dig their way into you. Perhaps you have been foolish. You have been believing that carefully handpicking the parts of yourself to sacrifice can go on forever; that you will never feel the weight of your earliest years again. And while that’s true, you have been slicing off the most unforgiving parts of yourself and offering them up to the Undying God, you feel yourself recede from Her. They are determining that these pieces of you are not enough, and They would have you offer more. When you travel out with Septimus’ forces to quell revolts you feel eyes on you: The High Priestess’ eyes, impatient. In the battlefield you are anxious to stop your hands from trembling. Perhaps you can’t bear the pressure. Perhaps you can’t bear yourself. Your teacher is always left to clear up your mess, always left to do the brunt of the work, but she is never cruel about it. Sometimes you wish she was. Then, you might be better. And yet, you are not all failure. In the last two months you have successfully resurrected five bodies, breathing and seeing and living, and that in itself is commendable. The High Priestess brings you to orphanages, and it is there that you set about your reanimations. While, like always, your mentor bears the brunt of the work, you manage to resurrect four bodies. Three girls, three children, and a boy who has been bound to these walls for too long. At Koldam, much to your own mystification, you bring back another. A Lieutenant, a real piece of chainmail in the king’s military armour. When his undead eyes finally settle upon your face, noticing the way that you lip quivers at your achievement, he breathes a sigh of relief. He looks at you as if you’re an angel, sent from the Undying God to rescue him. You are sent by Her, this you concede, but you are no angel. Whispers of a coup have been present for as many years you have been beneath The High Priestess’ care, but they are thickening now - they are becoming more difficult to ignore. Still, you ignore them, as you must. You are not ready for Septimus to be toppled, you are not ready for the throne to keel over into the pale waves beneath the black rock. You don’t want to watch it drown, you don’t want to watch it to be torn apart like some; more than anything, you want it to stay put. Every time you squash a rebellion, every time a coup fails, you allow your heart to settle in your chest again. But it only lasts a moment, because treason is always being whispered, mutiny is always being accounted for. What you think of Septimus is irrelevant: you aren’t strong enough to fight for a place in whatever new world results from it. There’s still so much you can’t do, so much you don’t know if you want to do, and even now all you want is balance. It is a line you have toed your whole life and it has always got the better of you: religion and politics; life and death; permanence and impermanence; the girl you were and the girl you are becoming. You want the world to stop spinning. You want stability. You can’t know what you want if everything you know keeps changing. You are only loosely beginning to learn the sort of vacancy you have inside you. Perhaps if you knew better, if you were better at knowing what you want, you would say: the world is creeping away from me, I am creeping away from me. Do you still need a hand to guide you? PLOT IDEAS: METAMORPHOSIS: What she wants is stability. If she will live for centuries, she must have something to endure with her. Vasylia’s loyalty is very intricate. She doesn’t quite block out the throne’s transgressions in the same way that Temperance does, but there’s still a degree of selfishness to her fealty. She calls herself a Loyalist not because she believes Septimus is genuinely deserving of her love, but because her body cannot bear the instability. I’d like to see that shift very gradually, though. She can’t cling to this dream of stability forever, not when the path she’s chosen is so weathered by impermanence - and the dream will only become more impossible to uphold if Septimus grows in cruelty. I’d like her to realise that slowly. It begins small: she focuses her attention on those who bear the brunt of his mistreatment. I can see The Star, The Hermit or even The Hierophant factoring into this. And then it grows - whispers intensify. The king’s mistakes become impossible to ignore. Maybe he orders heads to be put on spikes on the castle barracks. Turncoats are beaten and hung as if crucified in the main hall. Equally, it could have nothing to do with violence at all. She may simply determine, like her mentor, that the throne doesn’t suit him. Either way, I’d like Vasylia to move with the developments of the game. She wouldn’t fight for Septimus, but she does tend to ignore whispers of coup. Right now, she is trying to balance the parts of herself she feels at war with; she can’t handle another one. Nevertheless, I want her to be forced to grapple with the fact that this is bigger than her and that she may have to act. I don’t know whether she’s likely to have confided in Vasylia of her intentions (depending on the player), but should the divergence become evident, questions of loyalty would certainly be pulled into the fore. Would she follow her mentor into revolt? There’s an opportunity here for conflict - but also for growth. Growing into the person The High Priestess wants them to be: willing to fight, to take, to reconcile yourself to your powers, hardened to the consequences. I want to see her really become a part of this war rather than hesitating at the edge of it. NO MORE FALSE HEAVENS: The High Priestess never hesitates, she leans into this gift as deeply as her body is able without prying itself apart, and Vasylia believes that this has always been her way. The same can hardly be said for her, though. She is hesitant, at times she has misgivings, and the sight of a corpse almost always makes her tremble. The High Priestess has been guiding her for ten years now and in that time she’s discovered a lifetime’s worth of arcane knowledge, twice as much power as the Temple ever bequeathed her, but there is still so much she can’t do. What causes her to fail is hesitation, placing one foot in the art and one foot out of it. I suppose this is an alternative to plot #1, depending on which way things develop, but I’d like to see Vasylia turn away from The High Priestess. When she looks at her, at The Sun, she recognises what she might become. It is a fate she wishes to escape, and if she is truly committed to that, she may be forced to act. It’s no easy feat to kill a Necromancer, even one as wavering as herself, but severing ties with The High Priestess could breed disaster. She has always needed a hand to guide her in life, but it’d be fascinating to see her break away from that. The world opens its jaw and waits to swallow her whole, and The High Priestess is certain that without her guidance she’ll falter, but she needs to make herself more than what other people have made her. I’d like to develop her self-sufficiency, her willpower, but most importantly, I’d like to explore her desperation, to develop the recklessness which would no doubt begin to grow. Leaving The High Priestess’ tutelage is a make or break moment: and unless something considerable changes within her, it is likely to be the latter. Over time, she needs to determine whether she wants to be a Necromancer or a human-being. How far is she willing to go to excavate that small part of her, and is the act her genesis or her epilogue? THE DARK MARK OF ME: As a Necromancer, she’s used to instilling at least a bit of apprehension in others. The Lovers’ eyes scan Vasylia’s skin for evidence of a pulse, a suggestion that, even now, she is alive. More importantly, though, The Emperor goes out of his way to make himself available to listen to her. Listen maybe isn’t the right word, to have his curiosity sated is probably more apt, and in moments of weakness, her secrets spill out of her like a river. He’s used to getting what he wants, and she will not stand in his way. But the very act of this is dangerous; it could breed conflict, consequences, even bring about Vasylia’s death (!?) should information fall into the wrong hands. I don’t think Vasylia has shared her hesitancy to continue down the path that The High Priestess has forged for her with her mentor - there’s no need to, it’s as easily distinguishable as ink spilled on skin - but there could be disastrous consequences should her concerns spill out. Not from The High Priestess, I don’t think, because I don’t see her as having an aim in mind to destroy Vasylia. Her resolve at least appears to be motivated by cutting away the thorns and making space for her prodigy to grow. Yet, Vasylia’s vulnerability is a weakness, and weaknesses can be exploited. While the dynamic between The Emperor and The Wheel of Fortune is… by far one of my favourite character dynamics you’ve written, perhaps The Emperor’s player would like to use this to his advantage in some way. The Emperor certainly isn’t The High Priestess’ first choice for the throne. So, I’d like to see these words come back to bite Vasylia, to further complicate her oscillation between this path or that. She’s no fool, but she by no means has the experience of her mentor. She studies underneath The High Priestess and lauds her propensity for manipulation and schemes, and while in her experience she’s picked up more than enough tricks, her hesitancy is weakness. She sacrifices her feelings and anxieties freely - because he coaxes it out of her, but also because she needs to purge. Over time, I’d like to see Vasylia’s actions breed consequences, over and over and over, to the point that she can’t run from them. She can only follow them blindly down a path she was always meant to. Maybe this is less of a personal plot point and more of a worldbuilding idea, but given that Necromancers have the ability to kill, I’d like Vasylia to dabble in that in the future. It’s something The High Priestess can do as second nature, as if she was born with the gift, and while Vasylia is better at drawing life into her than pouring herself into things, it’s not something she’s easily reconciled to. Still, I’d like to develop her skill here, figure out if it could be of use to The High Priestess or Septimus (because she serves the former first, the latter second). There’s an opportunity here to flesh out a dynamic between Vasylia and The Sun, who of course kills for a living, but I certainly think it’d be an irreversible path for her to walk down - one that, should she give herself over to it, solidifies her fate. Again, more worldbuilding, but if The High Priestess is the type to gather secrets in her plotting against Septimus, it could be interesting to have Vasylia drop by places such as The Rosewood Maiden in disguise. To gather secrets in a place where secrets are spilled like blood. She wouldn’t even need to disclose her plans to Vasylia if the player didn’t want her to, but I’d love an opportunity to branch out beyond the castle. Much of her life has been limited, either by the Temple or Castle Tyrholm, and it’d be interesting to feel her form an opinion on the ‘outside’ world; to get an idea of the sorts of people she’d be fleeing to should she leave The High Priestess’ care. Alternatively, it could be a good way to turn Vasylia away from her neutrality/loyalty and into the company of revolters. Depending on how things shape up, I’d love to see Vasylia finally become an advisor. Perhaps not to the same degree as her mentor, but in some shape or form, I’d like to have her officially offer advice to the Crown. While The High Priestess’ intentions in extracting her from the Temple are, of course, ambiguous, it’s what she’s been training towards. What would make this even more interesting is: who will she be advisor to? To Septimus? Well, that spot is already taken by her mentor. The Emperor? Well, that depends whether his father can hold onto the throne until he dies. The Chariot? The World? Two vastly different options, but I suppose it depends which of them The High Priestess hopes to install on the throne. Vasylia is already quite content with the notion of serving The Emperor, and that could breed conflict, but it could also change. While Vasylia is getting better at nominating the more sacrificable parts of herself every time she uses it, the sickness is spreading. She’s heard rumours, though. Rumours of a mage with the inexplicable ability to draw from two bodies of magic. I think The Moon could be a source of real fascination for Vasylia. If she fears anything, it’s that she’ll turn herself so irreversibly over to Necromancy that she loses the essence of who she is. Given that The Moon’s abilities lie in healing, I’d like Vasylia to investigate. If there is a possibility of regeneration, she wants it. It could be an opportunity to rehabilitate her self-image, to reconcile herself to this fate of hers, or even to break away from it - depending on what she discovers. CHARACTER DEATH: It depends on when, but yes! Given there’s opportunity for development. WRITING SAMPLE (This can be purely hypothetical if it doesn’t fit into character interpretations and histories, I just really like the idea of Vasylia being at Koldam and bringing someone back on the battlefield!) The air rings with the song of swords, each clang and crash a melodic note copied from a manuscript soaked in blood. Koldam’s men fall like flies and Vasylia watches them from a distance: stumbling backwards, defending themselves clumsily, raising their swords above their heads in such a sweeping motion that she can only think them pitiable as The Emperor’s men bend beneath them. She watches how, as if in dance, Tyrholm’s forces encroach upon their wildly underprepared assailant with efficiency and onslaught. One by one, in a diagonal line, the soldiers thrust their swords into bellies, eyes, hearts, throats. She watches the revolters cry out in pain for a moment and then fall, limply, to the grass as corpses. The grass here has been dry for some time, Vasylia can feel it. It’s been reaching out to her, entreating her, but now it can drink at last. It feasts on blood and looks all the better for it.        “You were right,” Vasylia muses, as if she had ever doubted it, her words melding with the sound of clanging horseshoes and battle. The two women hang at the back of Tyrholm’s defence ahorse, side-by-side. There aren’t many of them in the field, only thirty or forty of The Emperor’s most trusted paladins thrust into the fray. The magi will lend a helping hand should it at all be asked of them. Vasylia would try to lend a hand. She would try to wash past failures from her mind, she would try to think of only life and death and the space that lives between it. “You were right,” she repeats, “Some of them are only boys. The Emperor will bring the King of Koldam’s head to the block and strike it from him.” Her words don’t warrant a response. It’s a statement, an echo, even, of words already made sensible to her. For a moment, The High Priestess is silent. She only reins her horse into a step and around the edge of the battlefield, lingering like the stench of rotting flesh. The woman has been grimly quiet this campaign, like the muscles she no longer feels in her face are holding something back. A thought, a point. Vasylia thinks nothing of it. It’s not unusual. By way of nature, like a shadow she follows.        “That is what you get without careful preparation,” The High Priestess answers, not quite to her apprentice. An ode to the fallen men, a lament to blood staining grass and gore hanging from swords. An afterthought dedicated to the revolters who deigned to dream. By now, Vasylia is well acclimated to her teacher’s manner of speech. There is a sense that her words are not made for the likes of men and mortals, that they’re fashioned for the Undying God, cut out by her tongue like a knife. But the two of them have not ridden out with The Emperor’s forces to remark retrospectively on shortfallings of men, on dead husbands and sons and lovers. There will be enough time for that. What remains of Koldam will pen songs to parchment with their legionaries’ blood and perform them to a pile of ashes and rubble. They are here to resurrect. To bring back what few men they expect to lose, to ensure that such a resounding victory is marred by nothing, not even death. Vasylia has been doing this for years, now, hovering with her mentor at the rear of a military army like two prophets of death. Watching over men who breathe their last breath, selecting those who will rise up from the dirt again. Vasylia supposes that neither of them are much needed here: while they’ve ridden out to clashes of arms that have certainly relied upon life made anew for victory, the swing of bronze here is decisive. Still, The High Priestess had insisted. She has eyes everywhere, but sometimes there are none better than one’s own. Vasylia is familiar with battle by now. Somewhat absently, running her fingers through Hel’s pale white hair, she watches as the blood alloys with the air and she ruminates on her failures. It’s a shortfalling of hers, she thinks. She’s been getting better at raising bodies, at blowing her own breath into the mouths of corpses and watching them animate. The last body she’d brought back had only been an orphan; a girl. As it were, she’d seen a piece of herself in her. A fragment, locked into the body of somebody else, long gone from her. Vasylia’s mind turns; towards failure, towards her own incompetence. She had been in a battlefield not too much unlike this one once, her hands earnestly pressed to the chest of a soldier long gone from this world, blood still seeping from his porous body. One might call it a half-success, she supposes. He’d lived, technically. But what is life when you are nothing more than marrow and bone, flesh and muscle and blood? She had watched in horror as his white eyes rolled up into the back of his skull, how they stared at nothing in particular: the way the clouds had swept through the sky that day and cut into it like an executioner’s knife, opening up a rain which poured down on the earth in judgement. Half-alive, Vasylia was bringing back bodies and never souls, and for a time that simply looked to be her way. The fighting would go on until Koldam was broken and mastered, the hooves of their war horses galloping on the dirt until the ground became a wasteland of torn earth. This is what it takes to hold on to a crown, she thinks. This is what it takes to keep Septimus on the throne, she rephrases, fitting the words into her mouth. Vasylia hopes that such an unambiguous victory would bring her some peace, some balance. But the throne seems to swing perpetually off the bank of a precipice; as if it delights in the sensation of feeling the world ripped from underneath you, suspended in the air. She would pray for Septimus to keep his throne, for The Emperor to inherit it on his death. There was a sense of permanence in that, in things being passed down in natural succession. Vasylia stares in the distance as The Emperor slams an enemy with the flat of his sword in one hand, winding him, while slitting the throat of an enemy with a knife in the other. He’s a strong fighter, a strong warrior - she hopes that when his time comes he’ll be a strong king, too. The air shifts. Out of the corner of her eye, Vasylia watches one of their Lieutenants pierced through the chest with a long blade of steel. Rolling from his horse, he falls motionlessly into the dirt. Something stirs in her. Patriotism? Determination? Grief? Whatever it is, she feels a strange sensation inherit her body and, as if predestined, she dismounts from Hel with such sheer force that the horse almost bolts from her. Vasylia feels the hem of her dress drag through the dusty dirt and, by the time she has reached the man, well, he’s no longer a man at all. Whoever he was, he’s nothing more than a body. Vasylia feels the stare of The High Priestess sear into the back of her head like molten iron. She is watching her, as she always is. Curving over his body, Vasylia breaks apart the chainmail which covers the stab wound, tears at the linen beneath it. She presses her hands to the torn flesh, trembling. On contact they still themselves a little, as if this is where they’re meant to be. She winces as she feels a piece of herself crawl out of her lungs, up her throat, like a sharp, piercing thing with black lacquered claws. When she raises her hands from the corpse they’re painted red in blood, but she has achieved nothing. Determinedly but, as always, with hesitation, she pushes her hands into his chest and tries again. She feels the same claws ladder in her throat, but this time its nails are ice cold, as if turning her insides fleetingly to stone. Is this magic or is it hesitation? Vasylia falls silent for a moment, her hands still planted in the breastbone. She feels the stare of her mentor still burrowing its way into her skin. But then: a splutter of red, a gasp of air which extends infinitely into lungs, eyes, flinching open. Vasylia rolls the body over in the dirt to avoid the soldier from choking, keeled over the body, breath bated. The soldier takes a moment to naturalise himself, for his eyes to come to terms with this foreign world again, for them to peer past the blur and see her. As if by divine providence, a heavy rain descends upon the site and Vasylia feels the thick mud form around them. When the soldier looks at her, blinking away the rain, really takes her in - he does not seem afraid. As a matter of fact, he sighs in relief, allowing a weak chuckle to escape his throat. He takes her wrist in his calloused hand, non-threateningly, as a silent moment of appreciation. Of gratitude. His grey eyes look at her as if she’s an angel, as if she had descended from the Heavens to become his deliverance. But, she thinks, what sort of angel has black wings?        “Lady,” he says, “You ought to cover yourself. You’ll catch a cold.” Vasylia cants her head to meet his gaze through the slit of his helm, eyes the colour of gunmetal grey. She’s drenched in rain; she smells like salt. There’s something animal about the way the salt of his tears creates a tincture with sweat and blood, and though she has seen it many times before, it provokes something in her still. Vasylia is stirred from a pithy moment of intimacy by the tolling of swords and shields, the metallic ringing of warrior’s voices calling for blood. By now, almost all of Koldam’s forces have fallen. Her vision blurs a little as she makes out the figure of The Emperor, whetting his sword on stone. One of his soldiers strangles Koldam’s king at the neck, towing him through the dirt. His crown had fallen from his brow long ago, buried by the bodies of his own men. Vasylia turns her head back to the Lieutenant. She has felt things colder than this. She feels it now. “No,” she hums in response. “It’s only water.” EXTRAS Pinterest board here and mock blog here. Any headcanons which involve other characters are purely suggestions and can be adjusted or removed if they don’t fit! I was gonna make a playlist too but ran out of time but just… just know that I listened to Florence + The Machine’s discography over and over while writing this. The only info u need to know. 01. When Vasylia stands, she does so straight and imposing, but her posture lacks the peremptory impression of The High Priestess. Nevertheless, when she walks through a sea of people they tend to part for her, hesitant to brush hands with Death Herself, perhaps, but this all depends on the vanity of the pool she is passing in. Vasylia’s mannerisms have always been subtle, and that hasn’t changed. You must look closely at her body language to interpret her: wooden shoulders when she’s paying attention, a cant of her brows when she’s interested, the twist of a half-smile when she’s amused. The way that she wrings her wrists at the side of her thighs when they tremble. Many consider her perplexing, at times even inscrutable, as if buried beneath dirt. The High Priestess is perhaps the only person cognisant enough to truly read her, to truly translate her, but for many she emits an air of strangeness. For the most part she keeps to herself, but exceptions have been known. Her language is at its most colloquial when she speaks with her mentor, but it never loses its inflected formality; having lived a life first of religion and second of statesmanship, she has always been like this. When she points things out she rarely indicates with a finger, but rather nods her head towards her subject. Eye contact with Vasylia has the tendency to feel intense, as if her bright eyes are burning into you, but this isn’t a corollary of her magic; this has always been her way. When she speaks, she has the tendency to tap her feet in uncertainty, and when quiet falls between them her breath grows almost silent. More imprudent nobles may have cause to wonder if she’s still breathing. At her most nervous, Vasylia bites at the dead skin of her lip, but this is never done in the public eye. She wears lipstick at all times: red in battle, pinks for stately events, and neutrals in-between. When she passes you by, you think you detect the scent of bergamot following her; only slightly, never distinctly, as if day-by-day the fruit shrinks in size. 02. Marking five years under her tutelage, The High Priestess bestows Vasylia with a glass pendant, shaped to look like a coffin. Inside is a rose which moves cyclically between life and wilting and death entirely of its own accord. The High Priestess reminds her the sequence is an echo of their power, the ability to make and unmake life as easily as breathing. The rose itself is the ensign of Undeath, a blend of snakes and wolves. Vasylia wears it around her neck at all times, as devoutly as a married woman wears a ring, and it marks out her powers.  +  This is something The High Priestess’ player is more than welcome to discard if they don’t see it fitting their interpretation, but I think The High Priestess could be so much more to Vasylia than a mentor. Her motivations in stealing her away from the Temple are clearly self-serving - the possibility of shaping a Necromancer from their youth, making them in some way indebted to you, is just too delicious - but I could see her attempting to make the connection between them more intimate at least. Whether that’s borne out of narcissism or something akin to affection (as much as she’s still capable of the feeling) could be something we could discuss. 03. Vasylia is only able to syphon energy from plants, animals and human beings through touch. Perhaps this is something The High Priestess can do as easily as breathing, as simply as being around life and feeling its energy burrow itself into her, but Vasylia isn’t so capable. She has to make physical contact with her source. It’s what made her mother’s bones feel so heavy when she held her in her arms, it’s what caused her mother to surrender her child. It comes easier to her than raising the dead, than sacrificing a piece of herself and returning it to the universe, but she still has much to learn. 04. For the last ten years, Vasylia has ridden out on the same horse to join The High Priestess and Tyrholm’s military forces: a pale white horse named Hel. She wears a saddle and bridle of deep blues and golds, Valmont’s grassy sigil ironed into the side. The horse learns quickly but stirs at danger - still, she’s been a constant, a companion to her these years under The High Priestess’ tutelage, and she’s fond of her. She thinks her thing worth sacrificing a piece of herself should she ever need to. 05. Vasilya certainly feels the damage sustained to her body, but it’s slight. She occasionally loses the sense of taste; when she coughs she has the tendency to choke up a little blood with it, and this is an effect which has only recently returned to her since her tutelage at the Temple. Vasylia’s sense of touch is at times limited, but it returns as quickly as it leaves her. Her tear ducts aren’t completely dried out, but sometimes in a fit of melancholy her face scrunches up as if in tears but no water flows. Her sight, sense of smell and hearing are all unaffected, and she bears no physical disabilities or wounds. At night sleep often evades her and she rarely manages to achieve more than four hours or rest per night. She feels a great big hole carved out in her, and while that is a sensation she cannot ignore, it isn’t a permanent development. She endures enough that the consequences of the path she’s chosen for herself becomes evident, flaring up to remind her, but she has not lost herself. Not yet. 06. In the Temple, as a result of the incident in the dining hall, Vasylia was forced to wear gloves. Not out of cruelty, but for all their holiness, children blessed with the gift of Necromancy are dangerous. The gloves are made of leather and they protect other members of the Temple from her touch. As she’d quickly learned, emotions have consequences - they would ensure that she wouldn’t have to pay for any more of them. When The High Priestess steals her away from the Temple, she strips her of them. She teaches her never to limit her power, but to control it. 07. In her more introspective moments, Vasylia is wont to visit the castle’s Greenhouse, sitting amongst the foliage. For practice, or perhaps simply by habit, she pushes the blossoms around her over the barrier and back through it, watching them fluctuate between death and life. They’re a small, insignificant feat, thus they rarely sap much from her. Sometimes she simply sits, admires the growth of life. Here, she can think of everything and nothing, and she answers to no-one.

[solohux]

solohux’s May fic favourites ✿

IGNORE THE LATENESS!

–> Our Apartment by @foryoursakegeneral ♡ Hux Comes home. (daddy kink, adhd kylo, domestic cuteness)

–> Nursing/Lactating by Winklepicker ♡ Hux has six-nipples, porn happens. That’s pretty much it. (milk play, a very lovely fic if you like these kinks!)

–> Accidentally On Purpose by @onewhositswithturtles ♡ Kylo has been harboring feelings for his uptight boss, Hux, over the last year but said nothing for fear of getting fired. Unfortunately one night Kylo’s friends get him drunk and Kylo decides Hux should see what he’s missing, and texts Hux a dick pic. The next morning when Hux tells Kylo to come to his office after work, Kylo has no idea what to expect. (modern au, bottom hux, a great pining scenario with brilliant smut!)

–> Haunted Soldier by @vadianna ♡ After spending two years completing his training, Kylo Ren comes home to the Finalizer.  He has planned and plotted every instant of his reunion with Hux, and a large part of that centers on Hux’s reactions to the scars he gained at Starkiller.Or: Rough sex on a big desk.Or: Overconfident Kylo Ren takes advantage of feelings. (bottom kylo, tagged as pwp but it’s the best pwp i’ve read in a long while)

–> For His General by @cosleia ♡ Dopheld Mitaka is a loyal officer of the First Order. Loyal to the cause and loyal to his general. And it’s up to him to save General Hux from Kylo Ren. (jealous mitaka, pining, some goooood hux & mitaka feels with a soft domestic kylux feel!)

–> Family Secrets by @rannystuffandthings ♡ Hux receives an invitation from his father to bring Kylo to Arkanis to “celebrate” their engagement. Things go as well as Hux assumed they would. (tw homophobia, lots of gorgeous protective kylo)

–> To Each of Us, Our Own Assigned Delusion by @vadianna ♡ The First Order Personnel Counseling Hotline is staffed by sensitivity officers well-trained in dealing with personal issues that arise during service to the First Order, including struggles with worthiness, conflicts with other employees, and even doubts about loyalty.  If you need to talk, they’ll be available for a live conversation during any shift.A mysterious caller manages to find personal issues that they were not trained to deal with.  Specifically, because everyone in the Order is given the same basic sex ed classes at the same time.  There is incredulity and hard feelings on both sides. (sex ed, awkward virgin kylo, kylo talks to the First Order’s Sexual Health Q&A Hotline and oh my god you’ll laugh at his one, it’ll brighten your day!)

–> Oversimulated by @saltandlimes ♡ Hux first notices exactly what that problem is when he’s a lieutenant on his first cruise. There are a limited number of people to fuck. Hux makes inappropriate use of the stormtrooper training simulations. Kylo likes to watch. (voyeurism, kylo touching himself to the sound & sight of hux having sex, so hot you’ll fucking blush!!!!)

–> Confrontation by @omega-hux ♡  Kylo finally says something worthy of retribution. (arguing, you’ll want to wrap hux up in cotton wool after reading this the poor baby)

–> Join by TrashBinKrem ♡ Kylo didn’t play fair, and it’s been eating Hux up. Now it all comes to a climax. (groping & kissing, a beautiful smutty scene with lots of feels)

–> Leverage by @ballvvasher ♡  Hux, tense one evening, coms for a massage droid but accidentally sends it to Kylo instead. (bottom hux, dirty talk, lots of filth & it’s paced so well, if you like smutty fics then you’ll love this!)

–> Off Limits by @verybadhedgehog ♡  Military man of twinky appearance, previously stereotyped as a bottom, meets annoying xeno-experienced frot evangelist telepath, is persuaded to be less sexually self-denying. Jizz everywhere, job’s a good ‘un. (non-penetrative sex, kylo makes hux feel good and it’s unlike anything i’ve read, this is a stunning fic)

–> Pleated Skirts & Perverts by neptune_bound ♡ Ren has a talented mouth, and Hux appreciates it maybe too much. (hux has a skirt on & kylo eats his ass, a++++++ fic)

–> cry baby by @princessfuckingleiaorgana ♡ Hux orders Kylo to get lost, Kylo obeys. (break-up, lots of angst but a good type of hurt!)

–> you know I’d be so grateful if you’d come to relieve my stress by @agoodflyting ♡ housewife hux is unsatisfied with his sex life, so he decides to seduce the strapping, yet naïve pool boy ben solo. (modern au, power bottom hux, absolutely perfect smut that you’ll definitely want to read again, ive read this like 10 times and STILL love it)

–> Pampered by @kylux-trashpile ♡  Kylo spends some time pampering his lover. (feeding, weight gain, lots of wonderful chubby hux & soft kylo!!!)

–> Fairytale Psychosis by @nonsensicalsoliloquy ♡ Even when Hux was a young child he’d never considered himself all that interested in fairytales.Having one essentially stumble and force itself upon him didn’t exactly change that so much as have him worry he was losing his grip on reality. (modern au, faerie kylo, fluffy & soft with lots of endearments and protective kylo! it’s lovely!)

–> Just Rewards by @stardestroyervigilance ♡ Hux bets Ren that he can’t possibly bring back an entire squad of Stormtroopers alive from one of his dangerous missions and promises to have a special surprise in store for him if he manages to do so. To his credit, Ren does manage it. (smut with plot, lingerie, they’re both confident and cocky and their established relationship is absolutely perfect here)

–> Gravid by Lady_Oscar ♡ A pregnant Hux develops Force abilities, and of course they manifest at an inopportune time. (mpreg, abo ‘verse, hux stands up to snoke and i honestly cheered, i love mpreg and this was lovely!)

–> Personal Jesus by @francisthegreat (WIP) ♡ Ren just wants to sit down and forget his past in peace. Hux predictably mucks up the works. (modern au, hot boys with guns, the style is short and sharp and it perfectly fits the topic, a fresh read!)

–> Scales of Gold by @thegayestcupcake ♡ Kylo Ren is a merfolk hunter. When he finds Armitage Hux swimming in a rural river, he begins to fall for the creature. Snoke bags and tags him with the purpose of selling him. Kylo Ren has to make a decision, does he save Hux, or does he let him be sold like a common piece of decorative art? Kylo decides on his first choice, and brings Hux back to his home. (a wonderful mermaid hux au with pining and sex, everything you could ever want!)

–> changeling by @cracktheglasses ♡  “I’m not strong enough, not by myself,” Kylo whispers. “But you are. Hux, I know if I could have just a portion of your will, I could do anything.” (modern au, cannibalism, it’d be best if you read all of the tags for yourself but, gosh, it’s so well-written and it’s so dark, perfect if you’re in the mood for a dark fic)

–> (in)sensitivity by @symphorophilian ♡ Kylo had never taken care of his toys. Armitage Hux was still all too eager to play the part of his pliant doll. (unhealthy relationship, dubcon, hux’s internal thoughts are so heartfelt and desperate, a really beautifully dark fic feat lots of manipulative kylo)

–> The Rat In The Vent by macabreverbosity ♡ “Except there was the matter of the “haunting”, as it were. It seemed that there had been multiple complaints of disturbances in the airvents, especially on the lower levels and the vents closest to his and Ren’s quarters. Additionally, Hux had been missing several articles of clothing. He suspected that Millicent, with her inquisitive green eyes, might have taken to hiding them somewhere on the ship.” (good crack feat. mitaka)

–> The Loth-Cat’s Out Of The Bag by @rebelwerewolf ♡ Jealous Hux or Kylo which leads to the rest of the Finalizer finding out they are in a relationship (lots of good jealousy & team building exercises lead to poor mitaka being attacked!)

–> Tangled Threads by @theweddingofthefoxes ♡ What is Matt supposed to do when his idol, Kylo Ren, takes more than a slight interest in the guy Matt’s had his eye on, Techie? (jealousy, Clan Techie!!!! precious, such a lovely fic)

–> Exhibition by @redcole ♡ First heatwave of the summer Hux goes out on his balcony for a quiet smoke and a cold drink only to find his new American neighbour in the garden below, naked in a similarly new hot tub, surprisingly large cock bobbing along on the bubble jets, nipples perky in the cooling night air. How absolutely horrid. Poor Hux having to look at that. He could look away any time he wanted and he definitely shouldn’t have a crafty wank… (voyeurism/exhibitionism, pervy neighbour hux & teasing kylo, filthy & perfect!)

–> The Traveller In The Dark by @xx-gigi-sinclair-xx ♡ “They discussed this possibility before they embarked on the lengthy process required for them to have a genetic child. One day, one of them was going to have to leave the other, for the sake of their daughter. It was a forgone conclusion.” (time travel au, kid fic, really heartfelt & a super unique idea, perfect characterisation)

happy reading! ♡