#another thing that can help people from falling for manipulation and indoctrination is being kind

[headofocs-inklesspen]

I’ve subjected my coworkers to this before, but the way indoctrination works, especially into extreme high control religious groups and cults, fascinates me.

You’re not immune to it. No one is truly immune to it. Successful indoctrination, especially regarding cults, finds the smallest little insecurity and magnifies it. And to hold you in until you’re passed the point of easy escape, they keep you focused on that insecurity, and add new, seemingly connected insecurities, while simultaneously convincing you that they have the answers, they alone have the solution to your insecurities.

They set up and manipulate experiences and interactions with outsiders that deepen the belief that they alone understand, they alone love you and want the best for you. The outsiders are cruel and unsympathetic and why would you ever want to go into the greater outside world when it doesn’t have it’s best intentions for you at heart.

They manipulate and love bomb and overwhelm every argument and uncertainty you have until you think exactly as they want. And you will never be immune. Because everyone will have a low point, will be insecure, will be desperate for faith, will feel like an outsider no one understands or loves. Everyone is vulnerable, maybe not at all points in their life, maybe some less so than others, but everyone is. And claiming you can’t be manipulated or tricked by propaganda actually lowers your subconscious watch for it and makes you that much more susceptible.

[sepublic]

It actually legit terrifies me that I didn’t even pick up on how manipulative Philip was. The thought never even crossed my mind, until Lilith actually pointed out the suspicious convenience of his words! Like holy shit, if I was there Philip would’ve made a fool of me, Belos really is GOOD at manipulation and mind games...

And I’m glad for Lilith, that she’s unlearned and healed enough to recognize these sorts of red flags, and that she’s used her experience with them to recognize them! Because honestly... We all think we’re too smart, too clever to fall for an abuser’s tricks. We all look at cult victims and think to ourselves we’d NEVER fall for that; We don’t really know nor comprehend the pipeline and how easy it is to slip.

So having Lilith, an actual survivor of Philip’s bullshit, recognize what’s going on? In a sense using that experience to guide and warn Luz of this kind of behavior? Not only is it a good lesson (in what to look out for, but also how EASY it is), but it’s also neat seeing Lilith be a mentor for Luz in ways that Eda can’t. She has her own worthwhile things to offer, particularly as someone who’s seen the darkness and managed to come back from it. Lilith DID make those mistakes, so she can advise future generations on how to avoid them.

So not only did she move past her trauma, Lily is helping others avoid what she had to go through, just like so many other characters; And it feels GOOD to finally see her join them! After being so toxic and indoctrinated into unhealthy ideals, Lilith is finally stepping up, growing, and maturing; To the point where she can actually cultivate others, not use them as tools like she did with Amity. The development, she’s no longer stunted like she was before, and it’s contrasted with how Lilith is more openly kiddish in a sense?

Again, not just the message that it’s okay to have fun like a kid, even if you still have to be mature. But also the juxtaposition, how in the coven, Lilith tried SO hard to sell herself as some mature, professional adult who scoffs at Eda’s childish antics, only to clearly fall for them. To clearly still be a kid desperate for her sister, trying to cover up her mistake AND fix it. But now Lilith is legit, she has no shame in giggling and having fun and being a nerd, and it coincides with how she’s no longer insecure and trying to put on a facade.

Being mature isn’t about the superficial appearance as Lilith shows, and I feel that’s really important for Luz, who wants to grow but still wants to have fun and indulge in her hyperfixations; So that’s another way Lilith can teach Luz. And it’s another way she’s become an actual role model for this kid to look up to, someone worth emulating; Because I feel Lilith always wanted the validation of knowing she was good enough for people to want to copy. To set a trend and example... For people to be impressed by her. And she’s finally gotten that.

[haadeswrites]

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her. 

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn. 

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired. 

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 

Time slows. 

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.” 

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though. 

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!” 

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

[thecosmicfragments]

It's funny to me that some people don't seem to grasp that they don't have to agree with Aleksander's methods to understand him and why he does the things that he does.

Picture someone who was radicalized by their own mother. Someone taught from infancy that everyone they ever came across would represent a threat. A young boy, isolated, an abomination even among his own kind, who learned that normal people would never understand him and that every Grisha would want him for his bones. For a power he didn't ask for and was afraid of during a big chunk of his life.

Sadly, the world proved to be just as ugly as the image the boy had conjured up in his head. They did come after him. Even as he tried his best to help them, to form a bond. They took away chances of friendship and love. Then, to balance that fear, the boy was taught another lesson: "Eventually, they will all turn to ashes. But you, you will go on living". He was indoctrinated into always putting himself first and thinking he was the only one who truly mattered.

He understood that he was especial. That superiority was something to be cherished and worn with pride. That only by expanding the darkness inside of him he would truly be free and protected.

Now tell me, why the boy who is now a man with centuries behind him would think twice about manipulating someone to achieve his goals? Why would sacrificing the lives of many mean anything to someone who knows, for a fact, that most of them would have him killed out of fear, if they could? Why would he care?

So when Alina comes into his life, the representation of a kind of hope long forgotten, the very embodiment of the light that escaped his existence too long ago to remember, he feels something changing. And here there is a fundamental difference between the Darkling from the books and the character Ben Barnes is playing: the latter falls in love with Alina.

It's obvious, and it's fast and he gives in to it. But his love isn't pure. It isn't chaste, it doesn't make him give up his plans of revenge, it does not magically turn him into someone he is not. But nevertheless, he hopes that Alina will still chose him and when she doesn't, he's heartbroken. In his mind, she betrayed him like everybody else did. She's the enemy now. However, he can't escape their connection.

In the books, what Aleksander feels can be interpreted as an obsession. He wants Alina for his own, because she is the powerful Sun Summoner destined to be his counterpart. He thought he'd found someone to share eternity with, but she chooses to be with a mortal instead, so he hurts her by hurting those around her. He's more angry than sad to lose her, and he wants her to know it. And yet, their connection is stronger than both of their wills and it brings them together again and again. At the end of the trilogy, for better or for worse, Alina is the only person Aleksander has any resemblance of a relationship with. She's the one who gets to utter his name one last time.

Alina comes into his life, but it's just too late. She couldn't save him from a lifetime of trauma, from centuries of violence imposed onto him and against others by his own hand.

So by all means, hate him for being evil and for all the horrible things he's done, he certainly deserves it. But do it with the knowledge that Baghra is as much to blame for his crimes as he is.

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

I'd love to see your take on Cullen's recovery arc as an alternative analysis! I feel like we're only ever presented with the two options of: "he needs to atone!" Or "he was a victim that needs protection!", neither of which I've ever fully agreed with. I think it's a result of the lack of attention given to his arc in DAI, which leaves a ton of room for interpretation, and results in people swaying towards either camp depending on how sympathetic they are towards him and his history.

I totally agree with this. 

The problem with the way Cullen is presented in DAI is that he’s presented in an unambiguously positive light, and as @tokutenshi pointed out in this post (which I do agree with) if your Hawke was hostile to him you don’t get some of his dialogue about questioning Meredith. Additionally if you side with the mages rather than the templars Cullen has some realizations about the Order that you’re not going to hear. It’s too little too late for a lot of people, though I would also argue with what tokutenshi said, he was severely traumatized after the Blight (if you take a female mage Warden in the tower during the Witch Hunt DLC you will get lines that indicate he is suffering from PTSD, notice the lines about him being “twitchy” and “jumpy”) Personally I think we can find a middle ground between Cullen being a victim of manipulation and indoctrination, someone who suffered after experiencing trauma, and someone who works hard in the moment to do some good, whether we can or should call it “atonement” or not. That being said, he does acknowledge in Inquisition that the war against Corypheus is his chance to atone, and he works overtime to the point where it’s commented upon by several characters including the Inquisitor how hard he works.  

By the time we meet Cullen in Inquisition a couple of years have passed since the chantry’s explosion. This is where I will be critical of the writing because I do think the game should have better established what exactly Cullen was doing in the time in between, though we get bits and clues from dialogue if you pay attention: He served as Kirkwall’s knight Commander after Meredith died, and he and presumably Aveline’s guard worked to basically repair the city, as Rylen says in Griffon Wing Keep that there was a lot of rubble, a lot of people without homes. Cassandra noticed Cullen’s work and recruited him to the Inquisition. (Also, keep in mind that the Inquisition was originally going to help quell the worst excess of the mage and templar fighting, restore order because the chantry lost control. Then the conclave happened, it went boom, and suddenly the Inquisition’s purpose became far greater than anyone would have expected. So Cullen as Cassandra’s choice of Commander makes total sense to me, considering he was a former templar and bringing him in basically acted as a symbol to any wayward templar, letting them know that there could be another way. But I digress on that part, haha.) 

I *think* some people are dissatisfied with Cullen’s “redemption” arc in DAI because we don’t really see him fall on the sword or beat himself up for his past. There’s also no moment where he like, faces a mage he maybe knew in Kirkwall or has to deal with the mages not trusting him. Obviously of course there is nuance there as well as Toku and I mentioned--he wasn’t allowed to heal as much as he should have before being shipped to Meredith. However, here’s an interesting bit of dialogue you can get if you pick the right options after Perseverance if you tell him he doesn’t need lyrium:

Quiz: The man you were. You can’t pretend like he never existed.

Cullen: Not even if I wanted to. But I’m here now. I can make that mean something.

Cullen knows he screwed up. What’s more, he doesn’t want to forget he screwed up. But he lives in the moment to make things right. Blackwall’s arc actually shows him falling on the sword and wanting to atone, versus with Cullen it’s implied he has come to terms with his screw ups off screen. He doesn’t continuously beat himself up, he does what he can for the Inquisition to the point where if the Quiz tells him to go back on lyrium for the better of his soldiers, he does, knowing it just may kill him. There is also limited dialogue that challenges his views which turns some people off, but I know for my Inquisitor she’s very much about the now and what they both can do in the now. I won’t blame anyone who wants to be able to challenge him more, but frankly I find the fact he doesn’t continuously fall on the sword or beat himself up interesting. 

All that being said, I do think of his arc as more of one of recovery versus redemption. And to be frank I’m kind of critical of the term “redemption” and what makes good redemption arcs or not. Someone having a “redemption arc” seems to imply that there’s only one road to the top of the mountain when maybe redemption is something you should always strive for? But as for the “recovery” arc: the chantry, IMO, purposely devoids both mages and templars of a personhood or life outside the order and Circle and treats them as objects. Many templar recruits are children and are basically indoctrinated to believe they serve the Maker and they are needed and that they do the Maker’s will. There’s an interesting bit of dialogue you can get if your character is a warrior and talks to Cullen about the templar spec, basically if the Quiz says “templars serve the Maker, I’d do the same.” Cullen basically replies, “uh, yeah, that’s not going to make you righteous, believe me,” implying this was the way he once indoctrinated to think, but he no longer believes it so. Templars are given lyrium for their abilities, but also to placate them, something Alistair says in DAO. 

After Kirkwall Cullen sees where the Order is going, gets an offer from Cassandra and decides that if he removes the “part that kept [him] chained,” he would find his own purpose again. (He says this is your Quiz makes him take lyrium.) In Inquisition we learn he always wanted to protect people. (Our local mind reader Cole says “some templars want to only protect, like Cullen” if you ask him about templars.) And as a kid living in rural nowhere Ferelden, he saw the templars as protectors. Why I interpret his arc as more about recovery than redemption all has to do with Perseverance and the way you as the player can handle it: You can either let him know he can start over, he can endure and one day find a life of his own away from duty and battle, or you can make him take it and thus let him remain indoctrinated to what the chantry taught him, that there is nothing outside of duty and battle. It comes down between a choice of “you are leashed to what the chantry made you till you die” to “you are more and you can recover and make your own life,” which he does do by Tresspasser, romance or not. At the end of the game if you keep him off lyrium he basically thanks the Inquisitor for giving him a chance, letting him know he could be more. Additionally, a lyrium free Cullen in Tresspasser speaks of meeting his siblings again, developing a relationship. If you make him take it forever he refuses to see them. 

I could also see the arc as one of faith, and finding it again. If you keep him off lyrium the prayer in the chantry he speaks is one of quiet reassurance and finding strength through his faith, but if you make him take it the prayer is “blessed are the peacekeepers” and it’s uttered desperately as if he is trying to believe it. He also mourns how far he fell. All this to say that I find it very interesting his writer focused his personal quest around the lyrium and what lyrium represents rather than say, him meeting a mage who lived in Kirkwall or something and him trying to atone to them.  

When I wrote my post about why Cullen gets so much fandom related wank I got a lot of different responses that echoed the same thing about Cullen’s arc not getting a lot of attention. I think there is a lot of good writing there with his personal quest,  but his writing doesn’t fill in every single gap---not to mention people are going to have vastly different experiences on how they played the games till Inquisition. And my examples of dialogue are things you may not get if you don’t pick the right options. And heck, some people only have played Inquisition. 

So, I think me calling his arc in Inquisition a recovery arc has partially been not me trying to justify why I like him, but analyze a differing way a character who has screwed up in the past is written. Blackwall’s arc is a true redemption arc IMO. Cullen’s isn’t so clear cut as a redemption arc, but at the end of the day it is truly about him finding his own purpose again, which leads me to lean more toward calling it a “recovery arc.”

[writernotwaiting]

Loki Meta Nobody Asked For, part 3--All MCU Lokis are AU fan fiction Lokis

There is so much in part 3 that I really wanted to see and I very much want to celebrate, but once again, I am conflicted.

Ok. Good things: Loki and his magic. Loki and fighting. Loki and improvisation. Loki as bisexual. Loki talking about his mother. Loki showing a moral compass.

All of these are Most Excellent Things: • Loki here is finally not a de-powered pushover. His illusions are effective. He teleports over a short distance. He resists Sylvie’s mind control. He stops a multi-ton support tower from falling and pushes it back up into place!!!! • He fights effectively--finally! Granted, his dagger misses its mark, but he was drunk, so I’ll give him a pass on that. Aside from that, he finally shows us some highly effective hand-to-hand combat skills. Thankyouverymuch for acknowledging that Loki survived a millennia of life in a warrior culture. He was raised by a warrior king. His brother is a Hero(tm). There’s no way he didn’t learn some skillz. His ineffective fighting in episode 2 can easily be attributed to the fact that he was pulling his punches when he was fighting the human shields Silvie possessed. • Loki’s character explicitly acknowledged their queerness!!!! This makes my little queer heart glow bright, and I think needs no more comment. Just . . . yesssss! • Loki loves his mom. Loki is conflicted about that relationship because They Lied To Him.  And did I mention that Loki speaks wistfully about his mother and a bit about the fact he was adopted and no one told him until he already pretty much found out (in the most awkward way ever). Even Sylvie thought that was pretty poor parenting. Good stuff. • Loki really doesn’t want to kill innocent bystanders and only attacks folks who attack him first. He is also kind of appalled to hear that the TVA workers are all variants who’ve had their minds wiped. Again, this is all excellent, and fits well with the Loki we met in Thor I who just really wanted to make sure his war-mongering brother didn’t sit on the throne until he grew up a bit, and then Everything Got Way Out of Control. • We see Smart!Loki in action, as opposed to hear Mobius flatter Loki to get him to cooperate. While one of Loki’s attempts at deception fails miserably, the other works (with Sylvie’s help). This is all excellent and made me Very Happy Indeed!

[more below the break]

I also very much liked many parts of his interactions with Sylvie, and the fact that we got a tiny bit of her backstory (and I love her insistence on her own identity--this is very much I think a Loki thing, “I am not you. I am my own thing, thank you very much”). This relationship has a great deal of potential for complexity and depth. I am totally here for enemies to frenemies to allies if that’s where the series is going.

I like the reveal that the TVA agents are all variants themselves who have been “wiped” and indoctrinated. We are finally getting more obvious hints at the insidiousness of the TVA.

So why am I still conflicted about the series? Well, here is what I did not like: • Loki’s improvisation with the old woman--he had too little information to pull off an effective scam like that and he would have known that. He had a photograph. A black and white photograph--no voice, no personality, no coloration, no body language; he didn’t even know if the picture really was one of a husband and not some other type of relation. There was no way it would ever work. He should have known that. Loki would have known that. • His voice and body language when he pretended to be a guard was stupid and unconvincing, not mimicry. That was a joke. • The getting drunk thing. I found this not only disappointing but insulting and also possibly lazy on the part of the writers. It felt completely out of character. In fact, Sylvie felt much more “Loki-ish” in this scene than Loki did. I just cannot in any universe see Loki doing anything like this under these conditions. They are undercover in a high-pressure situation in which they are about to be wiped out of existence if they fuck things up, and Loki decides to get drunk? No. This is a virtually suicidal loss of control. They have no idea how long they would be on that train or what they would have to deal with later. They have no idea what sort of security is in place on the train. Why did they even stop in a bar, of all places? Why not find a sleeper car and stay out of the way? For that matter, why not just find seats? Why would a guard be sitting in a booth at a bar with a prisoner? They wouldn’t. Loki’s sense of self-preservation is stronger than that. He’s smarter than that. It was stupid and out of character and also unnecessary--there are so many other ways they could have gotten them shoved off that train that did not involve Loki making a spectacle of himself. It was, in fact, a very Thor thing to do, not Loki-like at all. • I still feel as though Tom is over-emoting in all of the scenes that are less than life-or-death. It does not feel like the Loki I met in Thor I and The Avengers. That Loki had a length of re-bar up his spine and only genuinely smiled when he looked at Thor (when Thor was smiling).

I feel like Tom is playing two Lokis in the show--the one that fights his way out of tight spots and occasionally deals with his difficult family issues, and the other is a parody of mischief!Loki--whose face is extremely emotive and who wants to bare his soul to whomever looks vaguely as though they’ll listen to him.

So, here’s my mid-series conclusion. All MCU Lokis are fan fiction Loki’s of the comics. Among those MCu fan fics are three distinct AUs.

1. The Loki we meet in Thor I, The Avengers, and Thor II. This Loki works hard to bury his emotions. His body language is generally stiff and prickly. He is the product of growing up in a culture that is driven by a toxic masculinity and devalues those traits that are coded “feminine” such as all of those things Loki excels at. Because of this, he has gotten the message his entire life that he is with less that the Golden Child that is Thor. He loves his brother with all his soul but resents him because his father placed them in competition with one another. All of this was reinforced by growing as the “tag-along” little brother who was tolerated but not embraced by Thor’s closest friends. This Loki becomes self-destructive and suicidal, experiencing a psychotic break as a result of revelations about his adoption and internalized racism. He spends who-knows-how-long falling through the void enduring perhaps months of sensory deprivation only to be tortured and manipulated by Thanos. He emerges from that experience Truly Fucked Up, stopped of much of his power because he’s had the living shit kicked out of him. But his core self is still there somewhere--a core self that loves his brother, that craves affection, that really hates what Asgard has done to him but still has a moral compass in there somewhere that says wiping out the entire universe is a bad thing and I guess protecting helps humans is something he ought to do since his brother loves them.

2. The Loki we meet in Ragnarok and IW. This isn’t really the same guy as Loki #1. It’s a fan fiction AU in which Loki has no trauma to deal with. He is a manipulator. But he is a manipulator because he is a survivor. He does what he has to do in order to be not dead, and if he can also have some luxury while he does it, well, that’s a bonus. Theoretically, he is a powerful mage--since he was able to overcome Odin and place him in a nursing home--but we don’t see any of that on screen. He is revered Mostly Harmless by the narrative. There is no re-bar up his ass. His body language is much more loose and emotive. His characterization has been flattened out in order to serve as a narrative foil for Thor, and will be bridged in IW to serve Thor’s character development (yet another feminization of his character). Many people really enjoyed this version of Loki. But let’s be clear, he isn’t the same Loki we met in the other three movies.

3. The TVA Loki. This Loki is a new fan fiction. A third AU. This Loki is slightly closer to Loki #1 in that his characterization is a bit more complex than Loki #2. He is smarter. He is more versatile and powerful. He has a backstory that isn’t being mocked. His queerness is not being used to villain-code him. But it would be wrong to say he’s the same Loki that we saw in the first three movies. This Loki’s trauma is all family-related, which great, at least they acknowledge that.

However, he clearly is not the PTSD!Loki that we see in TDW. They have decided (at least so far) to completely ignore what happens between Thor I and The Avengers. I’m not quite sure why it’s ok to deal with trauma when it’s Bucky Barnes and Tony Stark, but not ok when it’s Loki, but this is the decision the director made, and if I want to enjoy the show, I have to be ok with that. So that’s what I’m going to do right now. The Loki show is fan fiction. It’s an AU. And it does a pretty good job at doing that.

[iamanartichoke]

I sometimes wonder if it's because it's more in the past when it comes to Natasha and other avengers, or their ark brings them redemption faster, whereas we see Loki fall, it's there in more real time, so I wonder if people are less likely to forgive because we are more confronted with it that way.

I mean, on the one hand this does make sense - the other Avengers’ backgrounds are either in the past (Natasha) or resolved during their first movie (Tony, Thor). In contrast, we see Loki fall in one movie, we see him being a villain for an entire next one, and then we see him villain-coded with a redemption arc (if you can still call it that at this point bc Loki’s arc has been fucked up so much) in the third. We get a lot more “real time” villain Loki than we do any of the other Avengers. 

But, on the other hand, it works both ways. We get more real time villain Loki, but that also means we get more real time redemption arc. Like, let’s try to break it down here. 

Thor 1: The Fall. Seeing Loki’s backstory play out as it happens allows us to contextualize the circumstances in which it happened - that he found out he was adopted, that he was already a misfit, that he and Thor have been pitted against one another since childhood, competing for something Loki was never actually going to get to have (the throne, yes, but also the respect and acceptance - nay, even love - of his family, friends, and people). We see all of that shatter, and see a Loki driven to so much despair that he literally tries to take his own life. This is not a steep dive into twirling-mustache villainy. This is a mental breakdown causing a rough tumble into morally grey-ism at best. Remember, Loki genuinely thought he was doing the right thing, and there is nothing to indicate why he should have believed otherwise, based on the culture in which he was raised. 

Avengers: The Villain. In Avengers, Loki’s one full villain movie, there are many context clues - and later it was ultimately confirmed - that Loki was not acting of his own volition. Not only was he being influenced by the sceptre, but he’d also spent god knows how long being indoctrinated into Thanos’s inner circle. What happens when you take someone who has already had a mental breakdown, tried to take their own life, has literally nothing left to lose, and you twist and manipulate them - possibly even torture them- to suit your own needs? You get a fucking villain. 

And even then - even then - there are further context clues that Loki (who at this point has probably lost most of his mind, is terrified for his life if he fails in this mission, and still reeling from whatever put him in such shitty physical condition when he first arrived on Earth) didn’t even want to take over Earth. When the battle finally starts, he doesn’t take any pleasure in it. He is stone-faced while flying through the air on a Chitauri ship. He cries when he stabs Thor, after looking genuinely unsettled (at best) by the havoc he’s caused. 

The Dark World: The Redemption. Loki is brought back to Asgard in chains. He’s been muzzled, he’s been defeated and humiliated by Thor, and he’s on the defensive. When he faces Odin - the man who is supposed to be his father - Odin does everything short of spitting directly on him. Loki gets disowned and sentenced to life - all remaining four thousand or so years of it - in prison. His mother isn’t too thrilled with him, and he antagonizes her (but with purpose, bc everything he says to her is true) during what turns out to be the last time he ever sees her. She dies and not only does Loki not get to go to her funeral, but neither his father nor his brother even bother to tell him in person. He has to hear the news from a guard. 

And we, as the audience, see all of that. We see the aftermath of Loki having a total sobbing meltdown, after which Thor shows up and refuses to share in Loki’s grief over their mother and further has the audacity to bargain for Loki’s help even while threatening his life. Loki is promised no gratitude, no forgiveness if he helps - he’s offered nothing but a return to his imprisonment. We watch all of that, and then we still watch Loki fight by Thor’s side and save both Thor and Jane’s lives. We see him die for Thor, see him apologize before he dies. We’ve arguably seen more screen time of Loki being wronged and trying to earn redemption than we do of him being an out-and-out villain. Yet it’s never enough. 

Ragnarok: The Grudging Acceptance. I’m not going to go into how Loki was portrayed in Ragnarok, bc it just invites too much discourse, but in this movie, Loki’s arc is ... stagnant, I think. He’s not a villain. He’s had the throne for years and I don’t think Thor is a reliable narrator in claiming the realms were all in chaos. Loki didn’t kill Odin, and furthermore he willingly brought Thor to where he’d left him. Loki doesn’t try anything manipulative, like striking a deal with Hela or betraying Thor (I’m ignoring the little bait-and-switch in the garage bc come on). Loki was never in cahoots with the Grandmaster, as it was made clear Loki planned to kill him eventually. He shows up to help save Asgard. He saves Asgard, actually, by bringing a ship and summoning Surtur. At the end of it, he gets this from Thor: “Maybe you’re not so bad after all.” 

And I think that kind of sums it up. The audience has seen Loki’s entire arc over the course of four movies. We know his backstory. We saw the fallout. We saw the redemption and the sacrifice, and we saw that Loki, when left to his own devices and away from his family, minds his own business and keeps things running smoothly. And the best he ever got, from anyone, is maybe you’re not so bad after all. 

And I just think that when you compare this background with the things the other Avengers have done - assassinations, fighting wars, selling war weapons, destroying Brooklyn - and consider how they are treated (they’re called heroes, they build a cameraderie with one another, they’re given fresh starts), there’s no way that Loki doesn’t come out severely lacking. 

[marshmallowprotection]

everyone's saying what type of assistant they'd be but I'm curious what you think the best type of assistant for Unknown would be like? not strictly what he wants, but maybe what he needs? how do you think it's best to act towards him, etc.

in Suit Saeran's part of his route, he wants you cowering in fear beneath him and I feel like Unknown would want that too, BUT- you aren't supposed to cower under Suit bc it ends badly for you, so I wonder if this would be the same for Unknown and you have to stand your ground...or the opposite maybe? as in, he does more and more to torment you until he breaks you and makes you cower.

Sorry, I kinda babbled but I have so many thoughts on this! Unknown is a character I am SO intrigued by and identify with heavily, so I love to hear others' takes on it!

I think if you’re asking me who I think is going to be ideal for this situation then I gotta tell you that I’ve got a lot of thoughts on the matter if we’re going to handle this in a realistic fashion, which I always tend to lean that way as much as I can because I strive for a viable scenario.

That being said, you’re right about our boy Suit Saeran. You can't submit to him. You can't lash out at him and you can't prove what Rika said as fact. You can't show him anger and that's why kindness and not responding to him are what help you. You have to respond to him as you do with Ray, never letting your guard drop by sharing empathy. Never give up on him but never bow your head and you'll get BE2. Suit Saeran is less like Unknown, and a lot more like Ray.

They need a level of reassurance. All of them. It isn't always easy to do that because each of them have an intensity that cannot be contained in the word limit of one post because I don't know when I would shut up and you asked about Unknown specifically, and I will keep this about him.

When it comes to Unknown, I feel like you need to have a balance of confidence and kindness in your heart. You don't submit to him, but you give him understanding. Listen to him. He was left by everyone that he ever trusted and he's been just gaslit over and over by Rika, as well as subjected to cult manipulation for nearly two years. You do not say the word cult. If you want to know how to help someone in a cult, there's a very specific way that you HAVE to talk to people who have been indoctrinated into cults. You can't just tell him Mint Eye is hell. He is literally the most and dedicated member of the cult because of what Rika did to him. You will not tell him that he has to leave with you. He will not listen.

You may cause him to never trust you again if you push him too hard. You can't tell him that if you really want to help him. You have to slowly talk to him over time when it comes to that and it will take some serious talking to even get close to considering thinking about it, much less being willing to talk about it with you. He took you on the spur of the moment. He literally decided what he wanted to do with you in the heat of the moment. He can't let you go, he decides to take you because he wants to be better than Seven and to be better then Seven, he needs more than what he has.

A maid? No.

He wants an assistant.

If you think about what Unknown wants, what he wants is somebody that will listen to him without question and do as he asks. He wants you to fall when he says fall and to jump before he even can say jump. He wants you to know what is in his head before he even thinks it. He wants you to look at him like he is the strongest because he is the strongest. He wants you to look at him as if he is your boss that gives you everything. You weren't good enough to trick the RFA, but you're broken like he is and he will take good care of you if you listen. Give him whatever he wants and he will take good care of you... he promises... haha... hahaha....!

An assistant that does without a moment of hesitation. What he wants is for you to listen to him. Always. Never question him. That's what he wants. That's not what he needs. That's not at all going to help him in any way and it's not going to help his assistant.

What he needs is someone who can handle it when he yells and screams. You don't have to be someone who can handle screaming or yelling without flinching or crying. You need to be very empathetic to what he's feeling. You have to be the kind of person that tries to look underneath the underneath. You can be fragile, but you can't break. You can be the broken teapot stitched back together if you've already known what it feels like to be hurt and abused. But, you can't break down on him. You have to be there for him when it's the dead of night. You know what he needs?

He chugs the elixir in the dead of night because his headache won't go away. He overheats and he cannot handle working because his fingers aren't responding. You get him some water and sit by him until it passes. He has nightmares and wakes up screaming, you're there, you stare at him and he stares at you. Neither of you say a damn word. But, it's understood that he is not alone and you are not alone. He never knew that he needed to know that he wasn't alone. He's always been alone and he's never once woken up with someone there. You don't jump to comfort him at first but you are there.

And if things do continue at that rate, he'll wordless let himself lay next to you on the couch, flopping against your lap and stealing your space. He will never say what he wants. He will do it. You let him and you never say a word either. You cannot comment on these things because it makes him testy. The same as Suit Saeran. He is strong and he will not accept vulnerability.

Even if he wants it. That's why he often shares physical contact with you. You wind up on his lap often because he needs something to ground him when he's disassociating. You don't know that. A part of it is a power play with you because he likes to feel you squirm and breathe against him.

He's not alone. Unknown accepted isolation but when you give him something else. He realizes he wants that. His obsession could not be as strong as Ray, but trust me, the minute he lets you in, he doesn't intend on letting you out of his grasp. You have to be there, you can show that you can scared and unsure, but when it comes to his insecurities, you have to listen to him and be willing to hear him out. When it comes to 707, do not assume that Seven is right. Listen to him but if you are presented the evidence. You have to try to get him to listen, gently. Don't kick him. Just try to talk to him.

Rika lied to him about the bomb. He never knew about a bomb. His trust wavers from that point and them Seven keeps hitting him. Rika sends V instead of coming. Play on that. Stand your ground with him and insist that he look a bit harder because he's smart. He's smarter then all of them. Why is Rika lying? You have to attentive and kind. So, when it comes to the person I think that could handle this, I need an MC who is kind and understanding, but is brave enough to call someone on their shit.

He is a vulnerable man whether he wants to admit it or not. Stand up to him but do not get angry. Stay kind. Stay steadfast. It's a similar theory to the Another Story MC, but you have to be willing to look a monster in the eyes and see the broken boy inside of him.

What he needs is someone who waits and listens to everything.

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 4 Part 1

Hello all, once again, k7l4d4 is here with another piece of Midnight Striga! Everybody clap your hands!!

“Ugh! I can’t believe you’re going to be working for Bump!” Eda groans, irritably sorting through the Lacrimas she had accumulated over the years. She placed her palm against the wall, turning a tired eye onto Luz. “Seriously, what could’ve possibly made you think working at a site of,” She shudders, “Institutional learning, could be a good idea? I mean, you live with a criminal.” She finishes, pointing her thumb at herself.

Luz snorted, looking up in thought. “Hey, it’s better than the education I got.”

Eda cocked her hips, a considering look on her face. “Oh? How so.”

“Well, my first teacher was very much a believer of the “trial by fire” method of teaching,” Luz mused nostalgically. “One of his favorite ways of seeing if I actually understood a lesson was to put me in a situation where I’d have to prove it.” She gave a sigh of content. “Ah, those were the days, when my biggest worries were if I would be chucked off a roof to see if my reinforcement was functioning.”

Eda and King froze from their work, looking shocked. Clearing her throat, Eda spoke up. “Uh,  you maybe want to clarify that a little? Because it sounds like your ‘teacher,’” She gave air-quotes around the word, ”was basically just torturing you.”

“Yeah!” King shouted. “Nobody harms my followers without my permission!”

Luz laughed. “Nah, he wasn’t that bad.” She paused for a moment. “Okay, he could be that bad. But he was mostly a pretty great guy all around. He only really did that sort of thing with practical stuff, and he usually scaled it to wherever I was supposed to be at in my training, so even if I screwed up, I wouldn’t be too badly hurt.”

Eda gave a disbelieving look. “Uh huh, right.” Knowing she wasn’t gonna get anywhere with this, Eda sighed, deciding to change the topic. “Well, speaking of teaching, just what are you gonna be teaching those kids, anyway?”

King through in his own two-cents. “The King of Demons demands to know as well!”

“Well, I’m not technically going to be a teacher, more of a Counselor honestly.” Luz mused. “But I will be helping kids find more flexible ways of thinking and doing in regards to their magic, particularly those who have hit some kind of block. And, if anyone’s interested,” She patted the stack of texts next to her. “I’ve got some Human Style Magic they can take a peak at.” She finished, giving Eda a cheeky wink.

Eda blinked, before bursting into laughter. “Ohohohoho my Titan Kid! You are planning on using your job to subvert the Coven System!?” Eda incredulously asked, feeling genuinely impressed at the gall of the girl before her.

Luz impishly shrugged. “Hmm… maybe I am, Maybe I ain’t. It’s not like I’m gonna say anything.” She leaned forward, fluttering her eyes. “And besides, who would possibly believe a weak, magicless Human was working to subvert the borderline indoctrinative methods of the ruler’s system of power?”

The three paused, before bursting into laughter. Luz, powerless? The idea was hilariously inaccurate. True, Luz may not be the toughest on the Isles, but she was canny, experienced, and had access to abilities never seen before.

“Still,” Luz said, stretching herself out as she pulled to her feet. “I really do gotta figure out how I’m actually gonna teach these kids magic, you know?” Luz took a thinking pose, hands clasped under her chin, before snapping her fingers. “Hey, King.” She called out.

“Weh? What do you need?” King asked, perplexed as to why he was being singled out. “If this is about the snacks missing from the cabinets, it wasn’t me!”

Luz coughed, trying to not laugh at his slight panic. “Nah, that’s not it.” She reassured the small demon. “I’m trying to see if I can make this work. I’ve got to figure out how to teach people on the Isles magic like I use, but to do that, I’ll need a test subject.” She leaned forward, sporting a devious grin. “And you’re it.”

“Me?” King asked, pointing to himself. His eyes widened as realization struck. “You mean you’re gonna teach me magic!?” He demanded in an excited tone.

“Bingo!” Luz cheered.

Eda gave a thoughtful look. “And just how exactly are you going to teach King magic?” Her words caused King to slump over in dejection.

“She’s right. I don’t even have a bile sack.” King muttered, despondent.

“Upupup! None of that.” Luz said sternly. She gave a King a smirk. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. And hey, the worst I can do is fail, right?” She peered down at King, who visibly perked up at her words.

“Yeah… yeah!” King cheered, feeling reinvigorated. “Whether you succeed or fail, I will still be the King of Demons!”

“That’s the spirit!” Luz said, ruffling his head, much to King’s slight annoyance (and some enjoyment). Raising back her hand, she allowed a potent glow to suffuse it, before staring intently at King. “I got to ask, are you okay with this? I know I said I’d use you as a Test Case, but you can back out.”

“Ha!” King barked, head tilted back imperiously. “The mighty King of Demons is prepared for anything! Go ahead, I can take it!”

“Okay,” Luz said, sounding slightly unsure. “But remember, you asked for this.”

“Asked for wha-?” King asked, or rather, started to ask, only to be cut off… by the brutal Karate Chop Luz had delivered to his skull. The glow infused into her hand swiftly transferred down the point of impact, now flowing into and throughout King’s body. It would’ve been glorious… if it wasn’t so painful!

“YYYEEEEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!” King absolutely howled in pain, clutching his pounding skull in response to the intense ache surging through it. Eda could only stare in shock as Luz looked on in worry as King frantically rolled across the floor, trying to calm the raging pain in his cranium. “WHAT IN THE TITAN’S NAME DID YOU DO!?!?”

Luz chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry, I basically just shoved raw magic into your body so you could learn to manipulate it.” She awkwardly rubbed the back of her head. “That was what my teacher used to call “the quick and dirty method.” I was basically trying to jump start the usual process most humans use to learn magic; most humans, when they try to learn magic, find magical energy and allow themselves to grow attuned to it, and let it infuse their bodies, allowing them to gradually grow more and more comfortable with manipulating it, and storing it.” With her little explanation done, she bent down level with King, a concerned look in her eyes. “Sorry King, I just don’t have the time to teach these kids the usual way, so I needed to find out if this method would work. Sorry I used you to test it out. Are you okay?”

Grumbling, King rubbed at his head, sighing as the ache finally subsided. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was still painful though.”

Eda snorted, nonplussed at what had just happened. “I’ll bet.” Moving quickly, she joined the small huddle, giving King an appraising look. “So, do you think it worked?” She asked, looking at Luz.

Luz shrugged. “I really couldn’t say. Can you feel anything, King?” She asked.

King held up a finger, focusing. “I think I can feel something.” He said, honing in as best he could on the sensation; it was bizarre, to say the least, as it felt like energy was pouring through him, circulating through his body, before pooling and condensing in his chest. Was this anything like Eda felt when she used magic? “Yeah, I think I can feel it!” He cheered lightly, before gaining a confused look. “But… Now what do I do with it?”

Eda gave a slight shrug. “The heck if I know. I’m just as you are when it comes to Magic like this. You got any ideas, kid?” Eda turned, looking towards Luz, who seemed to be pondering the situation.

“I think I’ve got something that can get King started.” Luz mused confidently. Walking over to her assorted texts, Luz rummaged for a moment, before pulling out the book she was looking for. “Here it is!”

Walking back, she presented it to King. As he grasped it, he read the title out loud. “Here Me Roar: A Comprehensive Guide to Sound Magic?” He glanced up at a preening Luz. “Not that I don’t appreciate this and all, but where’d you get it?” Luz suddenly became very still.

“Uh, you know, I just picked it up on my travels! Yup, that’s totally what happened!!” Luz shakily laughed, glancing back and forth. King and Eda shared dubious looks.

“Yeah.” Eda drawled. She clapped her hands together firmly. “So! Now that we’ve gotten this all out of the way, I’ve got to take care of the barrier before the rain hits.”

“Barrier?” Luz wondered. “Why do we need a barrier? It’s just rain- the rain’s weird here, isn’t it?” She started to ask, before facepalming in realization.

“I guess it’d be weird by human standards.” Eda admitted. “But yeah, the weather around here is more like plagues.” She started counting off her fingers. “Shale hail, Gore-Nados, Painbows,” (“Those are rainbows that turn you inside out when you look at them!” King added)

“And, of course, Boiling Rain.” Eda finished. She opened the door, showing the encroaching clouds in the distance, and the frantic panic of everything under the falling water.

“Huh, you learn something new every day.” Luz muttered, watching Eda get to work putting up the barrier. She gave the barrier a critical look as it went up; by the standards of the Isles, it was most likely a pretty advanced one, for its job anyway, but Luz thought she saw some flaws in it that could be patched up later, at least once the rain passed.

Sighing, Luz plopped herself down on the couch, flipping through the encyclopedia of demons King regularly poured over; she wasn’t sure how much of this book was accurate, and several of these demons just flat out sounded ridiculous. “Smoochie Pie?” Seriously? But still, some of them gave her a vibe that had her hackles up, just in case they actually were real. Like this Snaggleback thing; a prowling beast that stalks through the otherwise lethal rain and preys on anyone who’s stuck in it or whose shelter is isolated? Yeah, if she saw the thing, she was squashing it, no way was she going to let something that deadly run around.

Tearing herself from her potentially murderous thoughts, Luz glanced at King, his eyes devouring the text in front of him. She smirked. She just had a feeling that sound magic would be a good fit for him, with how much he wanted to be heard and respected. It made sense, a magic that would let himself always be heard, she just hoped he would be able to learn it. 

Boscha’s fist crashed against the tree. With a huff, she pulled back, flexing her hand, staring at the scar that decorated it.

“Miss Boscha, due to the extenuating circumstances, you will not be officially punished for your recent conduct.” Bump said gravely.

“Thank you, sir.” Boscha stated as politely as she could.

“However.” Bump started, causing Boscha to become alert. “Due to the condition of your magical abilities, as well as your reported history of abusing your status as a top Grudgby player, whereas the services of our new Counselor are nominally voluntary for others, for you they will be mandatory. If you allow yourself to lose control again, or have another incident of abusing your influence within the school, there will be steeper consequences. Am I understood?”

Boscha nodded, feeling hollow. “Perfectly, sir.”

With a snort at the memory, Boscha went back to punching the tree, taking careful note of the dents and breakage in the wood in response to her attacks. As she picked up the pacing of her blows, Boscha carefully measured how much damage she was doing and, when it looked like it would fall, Boscha jumped clear, letting the tree collapse before her.

She sighed. “First test down.”

With a deep breath, she walked up to a nearby boulder, and without preamble, slammed her skull against it as hard as she could. As she reeled back in pain, she carefully started feeling the sight of impact, noting that nothing felt broken, and nothing was out of place.

“Second test down.”

Turning her gaze to a nearby stake set into the ground, she kicked it loose. As the stake popped free, the rope affixed to it slipped off, whipping away into the brush. A whistling sound built up behind her. Whirling, she reached out, snagging the spear before it could impale her. As she took a closer look at her handiwork, she revised her opinion. She had snagged it before it could strike her. The spear was blunt, literally just a piece of wood she crudely shaped together.

“Third test down.” She breathed out. “Now, just have to test that.”

With a trepidation that was painfully unfamiliar to the girl well-known for her brashness, she carefully traced out a circle in the air, glowing a painfully deep red. She held her breath, waiting to see. As the circle slowly started to glow, Boscha allowed a small grin to build on her face. Maybe, this time it wouldn’t…

The circle flickered. Boscha’s eyes widened. With an almost panicked shout, Boscha ran for cover, the spell detonating behind her. With a groan, Boscha slammed into the ground, a wave of heat passing overhead.

She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “And, once again, I failed.” Grumbling, she slowly stretched herself out, surveying the clearing she had recently made her new training grounds; secluded in the woods, within walking distance of Bonesburough, albeit one that meant putting in some time, and surrounded by trees and boulders to practice on. “Ugh!” She groaned, cracking her back. With a huff, she slung the pack she brought with her, complete with water and snacks to stay hydrated and energized, she got ready to leave. “Another day, another failure.” She bitterly remarked.

As she trudged along, Boscha’s ears picked up an all-too-familiar rumbling. She paled. Looking back in trepidation, her fears were validated; Boiling Rain Clouds were building overhead, and had already encircled Bonesburough.

“Dammit!” With a curse, Boscha took off running. She absolutely could not be caught in the rain. Her family had shown her pictures of those that had, and she certainly did not want that happening to her. As the sound of rain falling crept in closer, Boscha forced herself to move faster. Her legs burned. Her lungs screamed. “I can’t die here, not yet!”

With a growl, Boscha leapt through the trees, dodging the rain as best she could as the storm picked up speed. Suddenly, she slipped flying forward as she lost her footing. As she slammed into the ground, she caught sight of an odd-looking house situated behind a glowing barrier in the clearing ahead of her. She genuinely didn’t know if she could make it in time.

“I’m not giving up.” She muttered. With a force of effort, she hauled herself to her feet, taking off, only for a crash of thunder to draw her attention. Looking back, Boscha’s eyes widened in horror as the rain finally caught up to her in full, clouds encircling her. “NO!”

King was really enjoying the book Luz had gifted him, a worthy tribute to her ruler! While the book was pretty wordy, it had lots of cool illustrations on how to practice sound magic, specifically sound magic based on the user’s voice. While he wasn’t sure if he should attempt it quite yet, the knowledge locked away in this tome would become the stepping stone he needed to regain his power and glory!! King was interrupted from his musings by the frantic pounding at the front door. Who was crazy enough to be out in a Boiling Rainstorm?!?

He glanced around, hoping to find someone who could get the door. Luz had retreated into the other rooms, muttering something about a “teaching plan” or whatever. Eda was just groaning away on the couch. Realizing that no one else was gonna, and that Hooty was probably just chatting away with whoever it was, King, groaning all the while made his way to the door.

As he slammed the door open, cutting off Hooty’s chatter with a squawk of protest, King blinked up at the sight of the three-eyed girl who had humiliated him before.

The girl cleared her throat. “Well, this is awkward.”

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 20--Zexion

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo continues to play into Xehanort's hands, and finds an old ally in the process.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

It took time to earn Xehanort’s trust--perhaps too much. But then again, considering Ienzo had suffered “twelve years of indoctrination with propaganda”, it was surprising the man began to trust him at all.

Two weeks after his initial arrival at the castle, his milk dried up completely, an ache so intense he felt it inside of his still-deadened magic. Amalia would be six weeks old. His arms felt so empty without her. He hoped that she was safe, healthy, that Demyx was with her. He had to believe this for his sanity.

Ienzo had to be clever. He was shocked at how easily deception came to him--deception that had never been used to do anything more than hide when Even sought him. He pretended to take an intense interest in “Ansem”’s research. And to be honest, he was interested, but not in the way he let on.

“Darkness is intrinsic in every heart,” the man told him. Ienzo was joining them for meals now. “If we can draw out that darkness… we can give people power. Help them shed their bonds of tyranny.”

“But it seems there’s some kind of transmutative property to darkness which is mostly unpredictable,” Ienzo said carefully. “How do you plan on controlling that?”

“I have several tests running which may illuminate such things,” Ansem said, and elaborated no more.

Ienzo swallowed. “I see. Perhaps you may… let me see some of this research. I wonder if my power might provide some sort of… insight.” He continued to eat, as casually as possible.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I’m sure its absence must make you feel blind. You do understand why we had to do things this way, yes?”

Ienzo smiled. “Of course. Were I in your shoes I’m sure I would’ve done the same.” He decided to take the risk. “What… did you do, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Ansem grinned back. “Placed a limiter upon you,” he said. “A self-replicating injectable. Given time… I’m sure my father would consent for you to receive its antidote.”

Ienzo tried not to show his horror. “Quite.”

Once a week or so, Xehanort requested an “audience” with Ienzo. He seemed to be selecting places he thought would be most important to Ienzo; the gardens, the main library, his father’s study. And they were; seeing how they had been perverted seemed like a personal slight. But Ienzo had to be cordial, polite, accommodating. Instead he forced himself to thank him for allowing him this much “freedom.”

They were being served tea in the rose garden one afternoon. It was a bit too cold to be outside, and Ienzo hadn’t been given a coat, just a sweater. There were two heaters hovering around, but they didn’t do much.

“I must thank you for your patience,” Xehanort said smoothly. “I know this must not be easy for you, to be treated a prisoner in your own home.”

“I thought I was a…” He took a deliberate pause here. “Guest.”

Xehanort chuckled. “A guest in a locked, warded walk-in closet?”

“...Your words, not mine.”

He picked up his cup. True to Lydia’s word, all of his family preferred things dark, sour, and bitter; Ienzo wondered if they could not taste well due to the darkness. “I would like nothing more than to allow you run of the castle, to give you quarters more… suitable for someone of your status.”

“But you don’t trust me.”

“My sons don’t trust you,” Xehanort said. “ I think you were a little boy misled by people who supposedly cared about you. No. You have been nothing but tolerant of how we’ve treated you, questioning nothing.”

“Over the intervening years… I’ve been treated worse,” he said pleasantly. It was time to lie, and lie big.

This got his attention. “Have you, my dear prince?”

“Oh, yes. Quite often we’ve stayed in… places of ill repute, in cities crawling with danger. My guardians… coddled me endlessly, would not allow me the freedom to make my own choices. They said it was for my safety.” He tutted. “But do they truly wish for me to be king, if I am not allowed to make choices? Or am I… a puppet?”

Xehanort’s face organized itself into something he must’ve thought pity. “What would you have chosen, then?” he asked. “Xemnas said you were rather distraught, that night, when Even was injured.”

“Isn’t any child distraught when seeing violence for the first time? I did care about him then,  I won’t lie.”

“Do you, now?”

Ienzo sighed. “I’m sure your son must have told you stories of their years working together. Even is… hard to read. It’s hard to tell what he wants, what his intentions truly are. He is quite a master manipulator, Xehanort. I don’t know what I should believe.”

Xehanort smiled widely. “I think you’re allowed to decide what you believe now, child.”

Hook, line, sinker.

---

Soon after, Ienzo was moved from that small, enclosed room to his old bedroom. Seeing it was like a small gut-punch of memory. Had this space always been so open, the bed so exposed? It was smaller than he remembered, but larger than anywhere else he’d stayed in all this time. The bed was a king, four-poster, neatly made in violet silk, thin curtains tied back to each post. There was a large white marble fireplace with flowers carved all along it, a small chaise nearby. A sitting room adjoined this space, with a writing desk, a table to take his meals, three of the walls lined with bookshelves and storage; the fourth was mostly windowed. The bathroom, too, seemed large and exposed, too much light. Admittedly it was much more comfortable to wait in these rooms. At least he had the luxury of pacing, of books.

As much as he could, Ienzo researched. It seemed like a lot of the textbooks his father had given him had been removed, leaving spaces like missing teeth. Books about the science and theory behind magic… the fairy tales.

Time was passing.

His longing for his daughter and Demyx only seemed to be getting stronger. He knew he was missing the small moments, the important ones, moments crucial to her development. He didn’t even have the peace of his pendant, considering he’d taken it off that evening before bed. Being polite, kind to them--especially the youngest--was wearing. More than once he cried in the shower, and now and again there was the fleeting thought of what it might feel like to “fall” out the window. But it was never more than a passing impulse. He would see Amalia again, even if it killed him. He repeated it to himself, constantly, a manta. He would hold her, smell her. Play with her.

But Ienzo played into their palms wonderfully. He expressed curiosity about darkness, he yes’ed them to death when it came to their ideals. He complimented “Ansem”. When Xehanort offered him the new “name,” he knew it was a major sign of trust. Still, hearing that clunky X thrown into the name he had chosen so carefully felt like another stab to the self.

He needed to get down to the lab, desperately, but the few times he asked he was so politely told no. Ienzo took vociferous notes of whatever he was told, carving them between the lines of his storybooks. He left thin pencil leads among the spines to see if anyone was snooping through his things; it seemed like they weren’t, as they never broke.

He needed his power back. If he had his power, he could sneak down into the lab. There were no other computers connected to the OS that had Tron; he checked as soon as he was allowed to, but the computers Ienzo could access just had the basic office programs, editing programs, things of that ilk, as well as the Internet. Using that, too, was just about useless; he knew that Even had likely taken them off the grid again. And all social media was blocked, preventing him from getting any messages to any of his other friends. He wondered about physical letters. Maybe Lydia might pass something on for him? But he didn’t quite trust her yet, either, despite the fact that she seemed to be his devoted maid, and she hadn't exposed the fact he'd had a child. If he had the power, he could sense her intentions. Everything hinged on performing well enough to get the magic back.

Fall deepened into winter. He’d forgotten what these coastal winters were like, wind howling against the windows, making every room freezing despite the double-paned windows and the fireplaces.

Every now and again Xehanort, or one of his sons, would not-so-subtly pry for information about Ansem, about the resistance. Ienzo told them the rare truth in this case; he had no idea where Ansem was or what he was up to. He also said that Even had refused to tell him anything about the resistance. He kept his answers as consistent as possible, fully aware this was why they kept asking.

It seemed that several things happened in quick succession. “Ansem” deigned to give him his power back; Xehanort wanted to reintroduce him to the public; and someone else he’d nearly forgotten entered his life.

“You’ve been gracious,” Ansem told him. “My father agrees that there’s no point in suppressing your power further, lest we cause it undue harm.”

So Ienzo was led downstairs, so temptingly close to that lab, was laid onto a narrow gurney and strapped down. “What are--”

Ansem started an IV. “The serum works theoretically . But I don’t know for sure how it reacts inside a human body. This is… mostly for your own safety. Can’t have you falling and hitting that precious head of yours.”

Was that sarcasm?

“Don’t you trust me, Zexion?” Ansem purred. “There. Now be a good boy and try not to move.”

Something cold and stinging entered the port Ansem had placed in his hand; it felt like ice water being injected inside Ienzo’s veins. He jerked without meaning to.

“Stillness, boy.”

The cold crept down all along his body, a sharp shattering pain. Ienzo wondered briefly if he were simply being poisoned before he felt a heaviness in the pit of his being, something being lifted and dragged out of him. The serum made his muscles spasm, and he found himself grateful for the restraints. A pained noise left him.

“There, there, Zexion. Not much farther.”

The coldness worsened. He felt as though he could barely breathe, his magic straining against the limiter in his body, breaking it apart. Ienzo could feel dampness and realized it was his own sweat. He felt a mask being placed against his face and jumped before he realized it was just oxygen.

He thought he might shatter, his back arching against the bed. The magic bled back into his body, nearly as painful as when Amalia had separated from him. The pain peaked suddenly, and he blacked out.

---

Ienzo woke slowly.

He was in the infirmary of the castle. Something felt… off, about his body, and he realized it was because the heavy dead wrongness he’d carried all these months was gone. The magic sat under his skin, pregnantly. The serum had worked. There was still an oxygen mask on his face, an IV in his hand. It hurt to move; every bit of him was sore.

“...Why don’t you be a good little boy and rest?”

Ienzo jerked. He recognized the feel of this person, his voice. He tried to speak.

The man came into the range of his sighted eye. “Easy,” he said softly. “Easy, Zexion. ”

Ienzo swallowed. His mouth was so dry. In front of him was “...Braig.” No more than a whisper.

“These days I go by Xigbar, but whatever floats your boat.” He sat on the plastic chair near the bed.

“You look…”

He chuckled. “Like shit?”

“...Different.” He did. His hair was much longer, half-streaked through with white; Ienzo could not tell if he’d aged prematurely, or if it were something else. But then he saw his gold eye, his pointed ears. The eyepatch. “This whole time you’ve been… here?”

“Past thirteen years, kiddo.” He leaned back and crossed his legs. “Good help is hard to come by. All I had to do was swear allegiance to the old man. Would you believe he let me? But after all, I was around you, your old man for years. Figured I’d have to know something.”

Xigbar was hard to read. “So you decided to pay my sickbed a visit?”

“Soon as I heard. They’ve kept word of you being here hush-hush. But there’s a sweet little old lady who thought I’d like to know.”

Lydia. Ienzo swallowed.

“Don’t know what you’re trying to get at. Don’t know that I need to know, either.” He leaned forward a little. “Aren’t you handsome now? Just like your daddy.” A pause. “I guard the old man too.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Come on, kid. You and me were always pot-stirrers.” A laugh. “I don’t believe that’s changed. Not one bit.”

“Why not sell me out, then?”

“Bluntly? Because I don’t think anything’s going to get accomplished here, in the long run. Not by him. I’ve heard that darkness is affecting the farmland. Meaning food. Meaning the planet itself.” His expression became serious. “I don’t know about you, but I like to eat.”

Ienzo furrowed his brows.

“Look, if you need something, I can probably get it to you,” he continued.

“Why should I trust you haven’t been converted, too?”

“Come on, princey. Can’t you feel I’m telling the truth, or whatever?”

He could.

“Besides, according to the old tales… too much darkness, and the planet cracks like an egg.” He clutched his fist. “Don’t want to be there for that, either.”

“...I see.”

A substantial pause. Ienzo knew his cover had been blown at this point. “There’s something else.”

“And that is?”

A slow smile. “A little birdie told me that your family’s trying to find you. So I did some seeking of my own.”

Ienzo tried to hide the surprise on his face.

“They were hard to find. It took me months. Even’s still one clever bastard. I was playing poker one night in some dive bar when someone recognized me… and thought I might like to know you were still alive. He told me all about your little love story. Mazel tov, by the way. She's a cute kid.”

The words exploded from him. “They’re alive?”

“Alive and well.”

A relief he hadn’t quite let himself feel washed through him. “You’ll help me?”

“I’d love to wipe the stupid smirk off Junior’s face. It was his fault this happened to me.” He pointed to his eye. “They used us as experiments.”

“...They just used me as one. But it was necessary.” He sat up slowly. “Could you tell my family…” He hesitated. “Tell them to trust me. ”

Xigbar’s grin was wicked.

[mercythompson]

review for The Kingdom of Copper

book details:

Title: The Kingdom of Copper

Author: S.A. Chakraborty

Published: January/February 2019

Pages: 621

review details:

Stats: 4 out 5 stars

Read again: yes

review:

tl;dr: I LOVED THIS BOOK! The way the author hits you in the face with feelings, the way you learn to fall in love with the characters all over again, the introduction to MORE characters who are just as entertaining and fun to read as the ones before. I don't have enough words to explain how amazing it was to sink into this book and this universe because it was so rich and so real that I felt like Nahri, I felt like Ali, I felt like Dara. Chakraborty drags you into their heads and you don't want to leave them once you do!

I finished reading this almost ten days ago and that's how long I needed to sit with my feelings over this trilogy before I sat down to write a proper review. First of all, spoiler warnings throughout this entire review, hence why I included the tl;dr section at the top and why the rest is under a cut.

From all the commentary in the first book about how evil they were, I'm surprised that Dara was changed this way, but in hindsight, they laid the groundwork. Everything we know about the series comes from biased perspectives (from Dara who was indoctrinated by the Nahids to go where they pointed and do what they said, to the point where he was a child soldier and a war criminal by their orders; from Ghassan, who has proven that he's willing to lie and bury any truths that might threaten the stability of his rule; from Ali who learned what he was taught from others throughout the first book). The more we delve into things as Nahri (an outsider in the first book and an honored albeit gilded cage style citizen of five years in the second) and with Ali (a prince turned outsider turned people's champion) and with Dara (a soldier turned doubting soldier), we see everything they learned is the truth, but a small kernel of it from only one point of view, and the more they see of these other truths, the more we start to see that no one is wholly good or wholly right.

Chakraborty does an incredible job of making you think you understand a side and you agree with a side only to spin the perspective around and see it from the view of another. In the end, you're seeing that they both want the same thing: peace and safety, and that want is being manipulated by the people who might have started off the same way, but ultimately changed in the end. We see this evident in Ghassan, who did wish to find a way to make peace with everyone and find a way for things to change, but also seemed unwilling to take the risk and therefore resisted ALL change.

Manizheh seems similar to him, but we also haven't seen all of her motives yet in the series. I imagine she wants the same stability for her people and her loved ones that the others do, but we also know that her motives are... more than a little suspect. The hints seem to imply a sort of mad queen direction with her - and we see her methods are almost barbaric. The gas at the end of the story was horrific to imagine, and segues nicely into my next point.

Dara is... I've never met a character who was so exasperating and intriguing at the same time. Throughout the first book, I recall my own embarrassment at some of his behavior and antics, and the second one had much of the same feelings while I was reading it. Despite this, he's one of my favorite characters because you really do see his internal struggles on all of this, and how desperate he is to make atonement for some things. Worse, you see how he almost does, and he almost finds peace, only to be dragged into battle yet again by a Nahid. The poor man never gets a break, and worse, they manipulate him into doing more things. His involvement with the gas nearly killed me, I wanted to scream at him about why he was letting this happen, that he KNOWS it's wrong, and how happy I was when he tried to stop it. How sad I was when he failed and went along with it because he believed it was the greater good. I'm not sure how Chakraborty will handle it in the next book for him, so many things happened that must have changed him as a person. They certainly changed his relationship with Nahri.

Which brings me to Nahri. I loved her so much in the first book, and I loved her just as much in the second one with only a little bit of bittersweet feelings for how she has grown. The second book picks up with a five year timeskip and in that time, she's embraced her heritage in a way she struggled to do in the first book. I'm thrilled she's somewhat finding a place where she belong, but also incredibly sad that their prejudice are starting to leak into her - as we see for her thoughts about the Shafit overtime. The brilliant thing about Nahri is how easily she adapts to things, and this is the downside to it, but this is what I love about Nahri the most! She changes, and she grows, and despite that her core traits haven't changed. A thief, yes, but a good person, too. She grows from her mistakes, and we see how willing she is to put up with these things heaped on her (Ghassan's requirements, the Daeve's requirements, the Nahid requirements, Nisreen's requirements, etc) slowly erode. Her first instance of change is when guards are attacking people (her people, if I recall) and she tries to stop them, but fails and instead has to bring it to the attention of Muntadhir (which ultimately seems to go nowhere). The next time something goes wrong, what does Nahri do? She doesn't make the same mistake, that's for sure, she launches straight into healing people and helping people, regardless of what it might mean for her or her gifts. I cried reading her line in the book when she talks about how ashamed people can be for allowing things to turn this way, I think the specific line went something like "how can you be a servant of the Creator if you allow atrocities" or something? I thought it was around the time the Shafit were hurt, but I think it might have been beforehand. And we clearly that her words aren't idle ones. The moment the attack on the Shafit occurs, she helps them regardless. It's why she's one of my favorite characters - she isn't boggled down as much by things that happened in the past, she's trying to make things better for the present.

The only other character in the series who attempts the same thing is Ali which is why he's probably my favorite male character (I'm sorry, Dara, I love you still, but this is different). So many times in a story, we see a good character turn out to be evil because that's the twist we expect on it, but that's not something that happens with Ali. He is a good person, we saw evidence of that in the first book when he was giving money away in the hopes of helping the poor, and we know the consequences of those actions. Nonetheless, he does it, and we only see him halting when he notices they are using the money for weapons alongside the rest. His fault in the first book could only be considered naivety and recklessness, consequences he feels throughout the first book and even more into the second one. None of his actions in the first book are forgotten, and everything that occurred has shaped him in so many ways. I just really love this man who is good and kind and brave, and if his downfalls are naivety and recklessness, there are worse traits to have! His POV was my favorite parts of the story because despite how trapped he was, he had the most wiggle room to change things and you notice how changes didn't occur until he came. Oh, the process for them was beginning long before him, but he was the catalyst for a great deal of them which is why his ending in the book was the ONLY one that didn't surprise me.

Speaking of which, nearly everything else about the ending surprised me and I mean this in a good way. I couldn't have predicted it was all going to lead up to a revolt, an invasion, and an assassinated occurring at the same time, nor could I imagine how our characters would be reunited for only a few moments only to be ripped apart once more. I spent the entire ending of this book crying, thinking about all we had learned about our characters (Nahri with family closer than she thought and then losing another one along the way, Dara struggling under the weight of what the Nahid require him to do, Ali torn between what's right and what's easy and choosing what's right again and again in the same reckless fashion we know and love) and when it was done, I couldn't wait for the last one. This book doesn't suffer from the second book slump, it was just as thrilling and engaging as the first one, and the only thing I worry now is how Chakraborty can manage to top this one.

So, all in all, this can be summed up as: I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS OKay! And I also want the third book now so I'm very happy that it's only about a month away.

[myfandomrambles]

Carol Danvers First Thoughts

I really liked her a lot and have some opinions. 

Okay, Some Stuff I Really Like:

I really liked her ability to have confidence even while scared. It is very powerful when we see people who are scared but do what they need to anyway.

I love the “get back up” imagery it is a really powerful motif and it's a pretty strong character trait that was consistent no matter what. Giving some consistency in a movie that could feel a bit disjointed.

Her ignoring rules is another way they connected her character across a very volatile character in other wars. I also enjoyed that even when others tried to force her into boxes but she would not do it was really important.

The costume being non-sexualized was amazing, but the outfits can still be in character and theme without being a cat suite built for males to think are hot. 

That helping support a woman of colour being why she is considered brave and hero to her family.

That we weren’t shown graphic or sexualized violence when showing her past traumas. Even the memory extraction scene didn’t including graphic beating, gaging, ripped clothes, excessive blood or injuries that ring reminiscent of abuse. I was also grateful that neither acts of or threats of sexual violence were included. They didn't even have sexually suggestive insults/manipulation. They are still giving her a story, and knowledge she can bee hurt and setting up some well paid off emotional reactions without this horrific violence. They did still have cartoon superhero fights and explosions keeping the genre traits we all wanted to see. 

I like the way she is swayed by the stories of refugees and empire. She has always been a bit of a rogue soldier and this lingering distrust of the Kree allows her to change her mind. She becomes an anti-colonialist and protects refugees, which is the best kind of hero to be. Though it is a little funny that they make the US army look chill as they are imperialists themselves. (Also since we genocided the Asgardian refuges I can't assume the Russos won't murder them all)

Part of her hero arc being throwing off not only the indoctrination of the Kree but also the very apparent gaslighting and control of Yon-Rog and the  Supreme Intelligence. She explicitly rejects both of their control, telling them she is not weak for feeling and owes them nothing. Their undermining of her identity, feelings and what she wants to do is shown as an enemy. And I like that it obviously has shaped her but she can’t still bunch those abusive people in the face! 

Where They Could Do Better:

Some things to add could be expanding what we know of her birth family. They are down to yell at and deride her multiple times. we also see her father (or another male relative) physically handling her roughly and shoving her to the ground at a beach. We also are told that her real family are the Rambeau’s. While it does show the theme stretches back to childhood, but some more information I think would be good. It does show she has always been stubborn but some more ways it changed her would be nice.

Other topics that could be dropped in would be some likes and dislikes. Maybe some of what she uncovers could be emotions/reaction to some cultural touchstones. Like maybe references to 80s/90s American cause some thoughts. We get a lot of this characterizations in Marvel movies and it could go a long way.

Also some more direct conversation with her old Kree teammates and Maria Rambeau not tied to just her memory blackouts. The best conversations we got were with Monica we see some other sides to her than warrior/soldier and snark. Her stuff with Fury was fun for sure but some conversations other than banter could help so we could build up a relationship that would connect to why she would give him her communicator and have an emotional tie that would bring her to immediately show up when called and have the long term emotional tie I likely think they are going within Endgame. It also could have added characterization to Fury outside facts, easter eggs and setting up later fils.

However, I love her so much and found the movies overall fun to watch and even had me almost tearing up. I also got a pretty strong immediate headcanons.  (also projection probs)

Nd Headcanon

 C-PTSD w/ Dissociative symptoms:

Affect & Emotional Dysregulation: Often either showing almost no emotion on her face and internalizing her feelings or very visible and explosive expression of emotions.

Disrupted Systems of Meaning: Similar to the identity issues we see multiple ways she creates specific scaffolds she works on as her identity. Being a pilot for the army, the Kree way of life "heroes", and then the idea of the protector of the Skrulls/refuges. And in conjunction, there is a loss of belief around these too.

Dissociation: She is shown to check out and go blank. One I remember is in the Project Pegasus bunker when reading through the papers she misses fury trying to talk to her. Another example I remember is the way her sensory perceptions distort when shown pictures of her past.

Dissociated/Repressed Memories: So this is much more of a theory/headcanon then something that’s not explained by sci-fy stuff.  But the way they describe her memory blanks is super relatable for my dissociation and memory loss. She has some huge blanks which can happen a lot, even whole people she loved. The way these gaps cause feelings of loss and confusion which is so common with people who have dissociative amnesia.

Also that she has flashbacks and nightmares of memories but can’t properly access them. And the way memory recovery can have a painful reaction and while it’s great to be reunited with people but it can’t really be the same it was before. And the deep reaction she had to hear her voice making her have to bolt from the situation,  feels like it can’t be her, even when she knows it has to be.

Flashbacks: Clearly was shown multiple times, not just under Skrull manipulation. They are even triggered by reminders of her past and under stress. They are disruptive to her life and are also shown to be disjointed.

Hypervigilance/Excessive Fight Response: She absolutely is almost constantly in fight/flight/freeze mode. We can see her have a pretty impressive startle response and easily switching to her "fight" mode. She can't shut off her way of handling things or really being casual in case only a few situations.

Identity Confusion/Malleability: She literally has multiple ways she presents herself. Changes wildly on her circumstances and manipulatable. Her parents seem to be trying to tell her to be calm, not fight, not be emotional and she completely tries to prove them all wrong, is super into her pilot identity, then Yon-Rogg is horrible manipulative and forces her to be something else. Know the Skrull also shifts her, making more of a one-man band instead of the loyal soldier even changing the way she was dressing.

Nightmares: These are directly referenced by her and Yon-Rogg. The nightmare is really relatable and pretty accurate for trauma memories. They are of her past/trauma but with confused details and trouble placing them. Even shown to prevent sleep to the point she doesn’t even want to sleep.   

Paranoia/Anxiety: Falls a bit in the adage of "just because your paranoid doesn't mean their not after you" there really were shape-changers, but her immediately switching to grilling people to check for Skrulls (like when the neighbour comes to Maria Rambeau's house) shows a state of paranoia and being on edge. Always doubting thinking everything.

Re-Victimization/Distorted Perceptions of Abusers: The implied abuse of her biological parents visibly including controlling er behaviour, interests, identity and emotions. Also pretty likely including some physical aspects having them shove her to the ground. While in a lot of ways joining the Air Force is highly bulking her upbringing, it's also directly subjecting her to a situation of more people controlling and deriding her. There is also going to be more violence forced on her.

Then with the Kree, she is obviously most close to Yon-Rogg, out of obligation likely but she doesn't reach beyond him to form other bonds and while she does rebuke his statements she does seem to follow them and lets him manipulate her and directly send her to the Supreme Intelligence to mess with her mind. She doesn't seem to realise how manipulative he is being, constantly undermining her emotions and ideas. He also holds his "saving her", giving her al her "power" and "worth". Even seemingly saying she is only alive through his blood. This connection doesn't break till she is shown obvious lies he and the Supreme Intelligence forced on her.

Strong and Explosive Anger/Rage: Anger is one of the emotions she shows most visible. It often is expressed in active violence and can cause involuntary usage of her powers. It's also something used against her by her father, Supreme Intelligence, and Yon-Rogg. The last two are actually really good at using it as a control tactic even liking it to the direct device that reacts to her powers which are strongest in relation to her emotional state.

[sepublic]

Luz’s Denial of her Feelings

           You know what? I LOVE the idea of Luz actually low-key being in denial of Amity’s feelings towards her… Because Luz is in denial of her own feelings towards Amity! We know from Dana that Luz hasn’t noticed Amity’s crush yet, because she’s busy with a LOT of things in general (not to mention she’s ADHD-coded so her mind is constantly buzzing with a million thoughts at once no less)…

           But once she DOES have time to start noticing, how would she react? Would Luz get nervous, because she’s never been someone’s crush, ever? The girl has a subtle tendency to undervalue herself, and how much she means to people… This can result in Luz being selfless and not expecting anything in return, and while on her own she’s already that compassionate, this lack of self-love could admittedly jeopardize that. It’s why it means so much to Luz, whenever someone tells her outright –like King did for example- that she means a lot to them…!

           …But a crush? A romantic crush? This is Amity’s first big one. We don’t know what Luz’s love history is, if she’s had one… But either she’s not used to having a crush on an actual person that she personally knows, and/or she’s afraid of rejection. I feel like Luz is someone who probably DID try to be emotionally open with people besides Camila in the past, with fellow kids… Only to get shut down. To be closed off… Maybe someone DID get to know her, and was interested at first- But then they saw the ‘true’ Luz, and got turned off, and it broke her heart!

           Luz is always concerned about what she can do for others, about not judging them… And while she knows to be herself, there is this potential concern that, what if this causes her to deliberately undervalue the opinions of others about her as a result? Luz doesn’t let criticisms from other people get to her, but it also means she’s not sure how to handle when someone is really genuinely interested? Luz is too used to not letting others’ feelings about her affect how SHE feels… And while this has worked in the past because a lot of feelings towards her were negative, how does she handle ones that are positive?

           And I can see Luz just… running from this. Kind of a hilarious and a little angsty parallel to how Amity runs from her feelings for Luz. Kind of like how Luz runs from her fears during Grom, which was ALSO a rather Lumity-centered episode no less…! Luz doesn’t want to admit that Amity has a crush on her, because she really undervalues herself, and doesn’t know how to handle such an intimate opinion? Maybe Luz becomes afraid of letting down Amity, of losing her love and being rejected… So Luz overthinks how to be whatever makes her so lovable to Amity!

           Of course, Luz learns that Luz being herself is exactly what makes Amity love her… That Luz doesn’t need to focus on being this or that in particular, that her own existence as-is is already perfect, whatever she chooses for herself! On another note, I imagine Luz being in denial of Amity’s feelings and thus vice-versa, because aside from rejection; Maybe she thinks she isn’t good enough for the girl? Maybe Luz thinks Amity is too good for her… Luz wants the best for Amity, and sadly, she doesn’t see herself as that? To Luz, it’d be doing a disservice to her friend as well.

           Especially since she knows how harsh Odalia and Alador can be, Luz might not see herself as strong enough to protect Amity, either directly or by earning the Blight parents’ approval! Being in love with Amity would further complicate this dilemma, it’s easy to not care what THEY think… But they’re Amity’s parents, Amity has a lot of emotional stake in Odalia and Alador! Luz can’t just disregard that, so either she DOES acknowledge the feelings, or she doesn’t. Not to mention, Luz might be afraid of jeopardizing the hard work Amity has gone through, by convincing the girl to throw away everything she’s done just for Luz…

           And Luz would HATE to ask that of someone, as well as to make someone feel like they have to do that! She didn’t want Eda to lose her magic for her, so I can see Luz denying her and Amity’s mutual feelings, so she doesn’t encourage Amity to throw away her life’s purpose for a ‘loser’ like Luz, whom Amity may fall out of love with anyway! Because surely Amity doesn’t care THAT much…! Not to mention Luz is probably critical of how she’s hurt Amity in the past, maybe she’s afraid of hurting Amity’s feelings again…

           Perhaps for her AND Amity’s own good, the two shouldn’t be romantically involved- Even if Luz will of course be close friends no matter what! And while I see Amity also being content with that as well, it’s not good if this option is done in blatant denial to both parties’ true feelings. These girls need to be upfront about how they feel.

           Regardless, Luz pretends not to notice how Amity feels… Because taking cues from Ordinary, she’s afraid of having to go back home, and she doesn’t want to ‘let on’ Amity by ‘tricking her’ into thinking that Luz cares back- When in reality Luz really DOES, but she’s afraid of her own ability to provide romantically, of losing everything she’s had with Amity and jeopardizing that, instead of being content with the friendship they already have! She’s afraid of how much more it’ll hurt when she DOES have to go back home, and how much it’ll hurt Amity in turn… So why not deny both of their feelings, help Amity admit that this isn’t a thing?

           Maybe this could lead to something drastic on Luz’s side in a worst-case scenario, where she tries to avoid Amity… But of course, she remembers Grom. Not only did Luz not confront her worst fears, but Amity’s worst fear was Luz rejecting her… And there’s a difference between helping someone confront their fear, and forcing them to live through it. In the end, Luz knows that she’s being crueler to Amity in the long run by not acknowledging how she feels… And she’ll learn to be selfish for herself, and Luz will see how she’s being cruel to herself as well for not acknowledging these feelings!

          Like Eda dismissing the curse so Luz and King wouldn’t get worried about her, this is just putting a bandage and ignoring an issue… The sentiment is sweet, but in the end it’s best to be honest with your loved ones and not hurt them, and address things together. I mean, look at Lilith- SHE was in denial over her own issues with Eda, and didn’t want to openly confront the curse she’d cast… And look how badly THAT messed things up! If there’s one thing Lilith taught her, it was to acknowledge an issue and face it, to be honest with yourself and your own shortcomings, and only THEN can you overcome them…! If you try to hide the truth, even if it’s for the other’s own good… In the end, you’re only hurting every party involved, and being a coward in the process.

           With encouragement from her friends, such as Willow, or Emira and Edric (who are TOTALLY Lumity shippers, the OG ones and know of the crush), Luz can learn to be selfish. To get this thing she wants for herself, that she ISN’T confusing fantasy with reality this time –because that’s how she’ll try to dismiss it as first- and it CAN work out… And even if it doesn’t, there’s no way Luz and Amity can know unless they try, and even if it fails, that shouldn’t keep them from remaining close friends regardless! Regardless, Luz’s friends will remind her how brave and defiant she is, how she’ll always ask for it all both on her own behalf AND others’, just as Luz demanded multi-track learning for not just herself but the Detention Track kids as well!

           If Luz can do that- Well, she can give it a try with Amity, for both girls’ sake, right? She’s not alone in this… She’s not Amity’s sole connection, Luz’s help has ensured that Emira and Edric are there for her, and Amity is likely rekindling things with Willow, or at least both girls are willing to provide solace if not outright friendship. Maybe while dealing with the issue, Luz will try to reflect by getting Amity some other friends… And while that DOES help, there’s also an ulterior motive of trying to distance Amity from her, maybe even get Amity to fall in love with someone else who’s way more worthy! But in the end, Luz is actually being selfish for herself in a different, more harmful way, VS admitting her and Amity’s feelings for one another and acting on it. Don’t try to undervalue yourself, Luz, nor should you try to make Amity reconsider her feelings…

           After all, Luz values Amity’s agency, so if this is Amity’s choice, then it is! Amity HAS been indoctrinated, and I can see Luz being afraid that she lowkey ‘manipulated’ Amity into being in love with her, into being dependent… But in the end, that’s not at all what she did, and she already has other friends with their own input, who can put Luz back to reality- Such as Eda, King, Willow, and Gus! Maybe even Lilith, who ALSO learned to confront reality herself…! It’d be an interesting parallel to have Lilith’s willful ignorance of her issues with Eda, and the corruption of the system, VS Luz’s willful ignorance of her and Amity’s love for one another.

           Nevertheless- This is making me imagine a scenario where Emira and Edric are pursuing Luz to make her date their little sister, and force her to confront the truth, because they’ve got personal stake in this as well amidst wanting the best for Amity… And Luz is just running away from her feelings and in denial! It’s like that meme of a dude being chased down the hallway by a floating T-poser! Except it’s Luz who’s running from Ed and Em, who are emblematic of the truth of Amity’s feelings- And in the end, they’ll make it clear to Luz, that she’s breaking Amity’s heart more THIS way, than if she were to at least attempt a relationship with the girl and then have it fail. Because, at least both parties tried with one another, instead of deciding any attempts weren’t worth it nor had a point!

           And Luz… Well, you know the girl. She’s been learning more and more how much she’s been loved. Romantic love isn’t the same as familial love, nor is it better or worse… But still, if Luz can give familial love a try, having experienced it with Camila and with Eda and the rest; Maybe romantic love isn’t out of the question, either!

           Basically- You know those I won’t say I’m in love animatics for The Owl House? Imagine those, but it’s LUZ who’s singing, while being cheered on by Emira and Edric and/or Willow and Gus! Maybe even Eda, King, AND Lilith, for that matter…! Why not even throw in all of Luz’s other friends, because they’d be supportive of her as someone who’s definitely worth it… And it’d be hilarious if Amity herself joined in as well!

[douxreviews]

American Gods - ‘The Secret of Spoons’ Review

“The world is either crazy, or you are. They’re both solid options.”

American Gods' second episode presents us with a game of two halves. On every possible level that you can interpret that phrase.

The first time I saw this episode, I had two thoughts about it. The first was that I loved every single thing about the opening sequence introducing Anansi. The second was that it was kind of a dull filler episode that just existed to set up things that needed to be set up for the rest of the season.

Taking these in order; Yes. Every single thing about Anansi, both in this scene and going forward, is amazing. It's impossible to take your eyes off of Orlando Jones as he moves through the hold of the slave ship, and he has the sort of charisma that genuinely gets religious movements started in the real world. The moment when he mentions slavery existing for the purpose of harvesting cotton and indigo and then crisply pulls down on the seam of his own purple shirt as if to angrily straighten it is a great character beat, and I'd very much like to know if it was the product of the script, the direction, or the actor. It also helps that every single thing Anansi says is undeniably true.

This is one of the growing number of instances where the casting decision to have Shadow as a person of color instead of as a white man is benefiting the show. Last week we had the lynching, and all of the historically uncomfortable imagery associated with it. This week we have the opening scene on the slave ship unexpectedly echoed later in the episode when Czernobog speaks about race in a way that American's tend to find uncomfortably direct. Technically, Anansi's opening sequence doesn't have anything to do with the episode other than introducing another-God-who-will-be-important-later, but the fact that the beginning of the episode speaks about race so directly gives the discussion about race later in the episode an additional depth that it wouldn't have otherwise had.

It also sets up the concept of duality, of things being separated into black and white, which leads me to my second point.

"Shit. You all don’t know you black yet. You think you just people."

That line, outside from underlining the unfathomable inhumanity of the slave trade, also sets up what I missed about this episode the first time around. You have what you think is one thing, and suddenly it's two things that are artificially divided and set up in opposition to one another. 'Just people' suddenly split into black and white. Czernobog and his brother, divided into being 'the good one' and 'the bad one' by the people around them. The normal, mundane world that Shadow has known, and the world of Gods and beliefs that he's gradually learning exists. This whole episode is about bringing Shadow to the realization that there is a second world, the 'world under the world' to quote Shadow himself, and that those two worlds are simultaneously both separate from one another and both the same thing. As the episode is structured, that's the point of the checkers match. It's a nice symbol for the concept, because it's ostensibly two sides fighting in opposition, and yet the checkers are all equal, as Shadow points out when they're talking at dinner about checkers versus chess.

So, my first take on the episode as regards it existing just to set up things for the rest of the season was both correct and incorrect. Yes, it sets up Anansi, reminds us that Bilquis is still out there, introduces us to Media and tells us Technical Boy's name. But what's important is what it's doing underneath that.

The episode itself is roughly split into halves.  The first half is Shadow tying up loose threads so that he's free to go with Mr. Wednesday, and the second half is setting up the quest for the rest of the season by revealing to us that Wednesday is reaching out to other Gods for some reason.  Shadow's job is going to be to take him from one God to the next so that Wednesday can talk to them. Put like that, it sounds like it's a fairly utilitarian episode, but what I missed was Wednesday's line toward the end. "I'm easing him into it." he tells Zorya Vechernyaya, and that's the point of the episode. This isn't a plot structural cleanup exercise, as I first thought it was. It's the story of how Wednesday gradually breaks Shadow away from his old life and slowly introduces new concepts to him so that he's ready for what's to come. First he lets Shadow see that he's meeting with the mysterious man in the sunglasses but doesn't let him attend, then, once Shadow has understood that, Wednesday lets him attend the meeting with Czernobog. It's a gradual indoctrination, and I think it's nicely handled.

With this in mind, I now firmly believe that he sent Shadow on his own to the store specifically so that Media would reach out to him there, thus introducing Shadow to 'The Opposition,' as it were. They make a lot in this series about how manipulative Wednesday is, but if you watch Ian McShane in the background you can see it happening in real time And by the way, how great was Gillian Anderson as Media? She doesn't exactly sound like Lucy, but she has the look and mannerisms down, and she owns it in a way that you can't help but feel like she just did the world's best Lucy impression. Note also, Media makes a clear distinction between being Lucille Ball and being Lucy Ricardo. Again, this underscores the real world/world of fantasy duality.

So, an episode that appears on the surface to be just doing a job, but which, if you scratch the surface, is doing a hell of a lot with one hand while it distracts you with the other. That's kind of Wednesday in a nutshell, isn't it.

Quotes:

Anansi: "Once upon a time, a man got f**ked." Truthfully, Anansi's whole opening speech could be copied here, but this was a great lead in.

Anansi: "Take swimming lessons. This is how we get stereotypes.”

Shadow: "What the f**k did you do?" Wednesday: "Well, that depends on who you ask."

Wednesday: "You sir, or only obligated to feel bad about that for so long."

Media: "Time and Attention. Better than lamb's blood."

Zorya Vechernyaya: "Family is who you survive with when you need to survive. Even when you do not like them."

Czernobog: "You’re black, right?"

Czernobog: "A shame. You’re my only black friend."

Bits and Pieces:

-- This show specifically, and Fuller generally, use the language of television really well. The transitional shot from Bilquis on her bed to the statue in the museum was worth three pages of explanation about her in a book. Ditto the transition where her body appeared beneath the jewelry in the display case. Everything we really need to know about her is expressed in those two shots.

-- Speaking of Bilquis, I consistently wonder what exactly the casting call notice for this part said. Were the words 'Sex to death' part of it, or did they save that discussion for the second callback?

-- The beautiful and psychedelic transitional montage from Dylan's 'Hard Rain Gonna Fall', up through the universe, into the celestial realms, light splintering in iridescent casc... whoops, check out this erection!! That's kind of the show's aesthetic in a nutshell, isn't it.

-- The shot of Laura, lying in lingerie on the bed like she was selling perfume cutting to the actual unmade bed was also a nice dream v. reality moment. Also, showing a lead character in dreams and illusions is a standard way of keeping an actor as a regular on the show while you're waiting for a big reveal about that character. This is how they kept David Boreanez in the credits for the first three episodes of Buffy season three. I'm just saying.

-- I could have lived without the unrequested dick pic showing up in Shadow's wedding photo. And now I know how every woman on Tinder feels.

-- We don't get any answer as to who saved Shadow from the lynching.

-- Also, this week we have no Mad Sweeney, Audrey, or Technical Boy. I missed the first two.

-- The cinematography on the sequence where Shadow filled the bathtub was very pretty. Naked Ricky Whittle was... also pretty.

-- The shots of Czernobog killing the cows were very upsetting. I know no actual cows were hurt, but still.

-- If you pause on the shopping list, it's all legitimately stuff we see them use over the next couple of episodes.

-- You can tell they're dealing in fantasy – the packing tape dispenser never jammed once.

On closer evaluation, this episode has a lot more going for it than it appeared. The question this begs is, should an episode require closer inspection in order to be good television? There's legitimate room for differences of opinion on this issue.

Three and a half cows which are totally still alive and were not brained with a hammer.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water. You can find more of his work at the 42nd Vizsla.

[unwelcome-ozian]

Thank you so much for all your work on this blog! It holds invaluable information for survivors. I was wondering if I might ask a question of opinion on your part: Because Catholicism is so top-down with such a history of abuse and misconduct by clergymen (in addition to all-or-nothing viewpoints), would you categorize Catholicism as a cult?

Thank you for your encouragement.  You are very welcome.  Oz’s and Ozzie’s and my goal in writing this blog is to help bring awareness to these issues and support survivors as best as we can.

Thank you for your question.  It has been an interesting one to which to give thought.

I would not characterize Catholicism as a cult.  Catholocism is a mainstream Christian religion.  From a theological standpoint, it would not fall under a religious-cult because it teaches most of the main doctrines of Christianity.  In fact it identifies itself with the origins of Christianity. 

 Some of the main beliefs of Christianity were agreed upon after much discussion at a meeting of church leaders in 325 a.d.  They were written in a document called the Nicene Creed.  Most Christian churches would say they agree with the beliefs regarding God and Jesus that are expressed in this creed.  The Catholic Church would say that it agrees with this creed.. This does not mean that I don’t have some major issues with some of the teachings of the church, that were largely addressed during the Protestant Reformation.  

A religious cult would claim the name of the religion and then usually uses almost the same language of that religion (with different definitions) in teachings that are contrary to the main religion.  Religious cults could be associated with various religions, when they use the terms but differ on some of the main teachings of that religion.    

Catholicism does not fall under the characteristics of a cult from a sociological standpoint for either.  

Psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton, M.D., in an article entitled “Cult Formation” identifies cults by three characteristics:

“a charismatic leader who increasingly becomes an object of worship as the general principles that may have originally sustained the group lose their power;

a process I call coercive persuasion or thought reform;

economic, sexual, and other exploitation of group members by the leader and the ruling coterie.”

Whereas, the leadership of the Catholic church does contain a hierarchy, in order to become a leader in the Catholic church, one most undergo much schooling, training, and other steps.  The Pope, who is often seen as the top leader in the Catholic church is elected to that position from amongst peers who have all undergone the necessary steps.  The top down leadership in a most cults comes from a charismatic leader who gains a following and then is able to control people within the group using coercive measures.    Also the teachings of the leader become the main beliefs of the cult.  For generational cults, the teachings and leaderships are passed on to people who are close to or close in relation to the original leader.  There is a large gap in power between the leader and those who follow.

You are correct in stating that the Catholic church has had a long history of abuse.  The level of corruption and abuse that has been uncovered is outrageous.  As an institution, it has been harmful to many of the people who trusted the leaders within the hierarchy to lead, help, and protect them.  Unlike cult abuse, the abuse (sexual abuse and corruption) is not part of the main teaching of the group.

Where many people (including leaders of the Reformation) have disagreed with the Catholic Church is where some of it’s practices seemed to incorporate beliefs that fall outside of the Bible.  Some of these beliefs include some leaders being more “holy” or infallible than others.  Whereas there were places in church history, where it seemed necessary to give some leaders the final say, when it developed into a doctrine that there are some who are closer to God (by position) than others, it moved outside of Biblical teaching.  

Another teaching that falls outside of Biblical teaching is the worship and prayers that are given to Saints and the elevation of and prayers to Mary.  This practice has origins in the other religions that were around during the time the church was becoming more organized.  Other teachings such as the existence of purgatory, and mandated celibacy, and performing penance, also fall under teachings adopted into the religion from the practices of the existing pagan culture.  Many of these teachings are downplayed in Catholic churches today.  Whereas I see these teachings as falling outside of what I believe the Bible to say, they are peripheral to the main teachings of the church.  

Whereas church history would show abominable things done in the name of God by some popes, bishop, nuns and other leaders and adherents to the faith, it would also show real acts of faithful priests, nuns, and other leaders and believers, who were living out their beliefs and reflecting the teachings and actions that are aligned with the Bible.  

As far as mainline Catholicism goes, people, who have claimed that as their faith have had a wide variety of experiences.  There are many people, who are Catholic, who would say they have had a positive experience with that faith.  In many Catholic churches, people are encouraged to read the Bible and have a personal experience with God as represented in the Bible through personal prayer, etc.  They also find comfort in the more corporate settings of church, as well as the community.  They are free to come and go, make choices for their lives, and socialize how they see fit.  There are others, who may identify with the faith in name only and never attend services or participate in the faith in more personal ways, without consequence from religious leaders or other Catholics in their community.

There are others, depending on their experiences in their families or with the religious leaders in Catholic churches or schools, who have experienced coercive control through fear-based indoctrination and other measures that have been harmful.  Here is where you might find the all-or-nothing viewpoints that have left emotional and spiritual scars.  People who have been sexually or physically abused by church leadership or employees at schools or other Catholic institutions would also fall under this category of those having harmful experiences.  

The spiritual harm in these situations comes from the fact that Christianity teaches about a God who is good and who loves people, and then people who say they are following this God, and sometimes in the Name of this God, cause great harm.  This is a failure of people; not God.  Evil in this world corrupts and causes harm, even in churches and religious families and communities, as evil seeks to corrupt all people.  

One other part of this kind of corruption is that the Catholic Church does have a very long history as an institution.  Part of the history involves it being a far more political institution than religious in nature.  Whereas there has in recent centuries been more of a separation of church and state, the power in the shadows (that we talk about on this blog) has had some control in the goings on of corruption over the centuries. Often truly evil things that have been done in the name of the church have their roots in the accumulation of power, wealth, lust, and occult mysteries.  

Lastly, the theology of the Catholic Church has been used by cult groups to manipulate and control people in the form of ritual abuse.  Some of this takes place in unorganized groups, but some of it takes place in generational abusive families.  Leaders in the Catholic Church learned that torture created dissociation during the time of the Inquisitions and the Crusades.  There have been cult groups who have passed on this information in order to serve a higher evil agenda for centuries.  There may be those within the church leadership who have participated in such actions.  Like abuses in other mainline religions, the majority of those who follow the faith of the religion, would have no knowledge of or be complicit in these actions.  

For people who have found comfort, healing, community, and a relationship with the good God of the Bible and His good Son Jesus, as well as the comfort and leading of the Holy Spirit, by participation in the Catholic church, I am very glad and would encourage them to seek love and being loving as taught through Jesus.  If that concept has been twisted in anyway to mean harm and pain and abuse and fear, then I would say that what you have experienced is contrary to the teachings of the Bible (and expressed theology of the Catholic Church).

With spiritual abuse, there is a huge threat that you will be doomed if you break away from the group.  In both cults and groups that use coercive control, fear is a number one identifying tactic.  If anyone is afraid of the God that is being represented to them, I would encourage them to seek more understanding from other sources.  

Please let us know if you have any other questions.

~Josha 

[wholeworldbroken]

PART 1)  Net Neutrality, Hypernormalization, The Dinosaur Who Swindled Natural Selection & Prospered... AND... The Healthy Benefits Of Paranoid Delusional Psychosis.

TV is a dinosaur sinking into the tar. All those once giant networks are scrambling to survive just a little longer in this technological age that left them behind before they noticed. That Netflix model is alot bigger deal than it's given credit for. It's what reshaped HULU until it went legitimate. It's why there's an HBOGO, STARZ, SHOWTIME, etc. app that all outperform their parent networks.

The power of ON-DEMAND blew Amazon up from a more Wal-Marty version of eBay to the titan it is now. Disney is gearing up to yank all Star Wars, Marvel, Indiana Jones, etc. properties from Netflix to add to their own upcoming streaming channel. Even the underdogs that only Netflix could make into giant hits: Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, The Defenders and The Punisher (not so much IronFist) are being carted over to the new Disney service without so much as a "thank you for making this possible" to Netflix.

CBS launched theirs earlier this year with the added ammo of the most expensive Star Trek series to date, Discovery, being only available through their site. We'll probably see about 10 new changeovers this coming year. Comcast, Verizon and Slime-Warner know that we'll pay $8 here, $10 there for the convenience of catching all that exclusive content completely at our lesiure, always waiting as soon as we feel like tapping that PLAY button.

So, the dinosaur is slowly inching across the quicksand, dragging its rip-off cable model over to the internet, embracing the technology of the future while still thriving off the scams of the past. Even Youtube, which was kind of a revolution in independent, DIY content creators and previously muted voices now given a somewhat worldwide platform, finding an audience without having to bow to the old media gatekeepers

(the Merv Griffins, Johnny Carsons, Entertainment Tonights, Morning Shows, blah, blah, blah, who were able to get rich off the young, hopefuls kissing the asses of whoever would help them be seen, LONG before any of the actual talent was consistently turning a profit. Completely self -regenerating. You can burn up the lump of coal till it's all disintegrated, but the machine ALWAYS got fresh coal being shoveled in the fire, baby)

... is now flooded with Jimmy Kimmel, SNL, Paramount, Disney studios, which seems like normal that those sketches, clips, movie trailers would end up archived on youtube...

until you consider that youtubers are paid through Google Adsense, and receive a monetary amount per video play featuring ads that are part of the program. The success and general public hunger for these independent creators has multiplied the number of young, self-made millionaires over the last 10 years. So, in come the dinosaurs, dragging that dirty-old-bag of crooked-old-ways with them.

Now you got NBC, uploading individual sketches from SNL, a television show that makes its revenue from tv ads & endorsements, each video cashing in on adsense profits seperately, rivaling the numbers from the original airing of the whole episode. Jimmy Fallon, Dr. Phil... practically EVERYbody is clawing & scratching for that youtube money all the kids were syphoning away from them. Whatever.

Big, ugly business, but still business. Dog eat dog & all that.

But what about commercials? Who the fuck clicks on the new TIDE ad showing up in their youtube feed? SOMEbody, cause it's got, like, a bajillion clicks. Are companies drafting interns to generate views and cash in on adsense? Hey, I'm paranoid, but if stupid old ME thought of it...

So, you seen the new Star Wars trailer? Shit, EACH newer version, starting with the teaser? How many did you see on youtube? ...and when you click that movie COMMERCIAL, like magic, you gotta sit through a goddamn COMMERCIAL before you can watch the COMMERCIAL you voluntarily chose to endure. Shit. I'll be DAMNED if, half the time, the ad that comes up isn't another trailer for another movie, usually from a whole other studio. Think Disney/StarWars minds you got a sneak taste of GrownUps 3 while you were waiting to drool all over a 30-second montage of disjointed scenes arranged to grease the dollar bills out of your wallet come Christmas time? `</pre> They just got paid by Adam Sandler's scam of a company for you to wait out the 5 seconds to click away from his bullshit and get up in them Star Wars guts... several million times... by an unrelated company willing to pay the opponent team for the luxury of dropping a commercial on the front of their commercial... leading to Disney (only an example. This is some across the board shit) making millions off a commercial designed to set up an installment in a franchise that will bring them automatic billions. <pre>` It's Terry Gilliam level absurdity that we've indoctrinated ourselves, as a species, to accept as "successful business practices", as we dream of one day carving our very own little chunk of the abstract money scheme balogna. I don't pretend to have a better, more functional answer than: try to resist as much of the barrage as you can, of huckster salesmen who have studied the best psychological methods of Stockholming your oblivious ass into not only continuing to prop up their pyramid scheme and perpetuating their boss's greedy manipulation of the entire world by way of its set-up-to-fail economic machinations `</pre> but ALSO, to constantly strengthen your faith in the infallible logic of those same machinations with a passion that is prepared to DESTROY any anomalous dissenters, selfish enough to be randomly fertilized and born into their designated gangsign annotated factions dividing up larger, further established, gangsign brandishing nation-states, yet still possessing the ingratious self-serving personality defect of introspection, empathy & existential contemplation. ** incoming** __VOICE__OF__GREAT__MACHINATION__LEADER,__STIFFY__O'FOOFYSKINS______ <pre>` "The enemy is all around and they hate your way of life. They whisper corruption into the ears of our unsuspecting younger generations. They bombard you with an agenda of moral codes & ideals in direct conflict to the ones you were taught. If you love the random patch of land you literally had more of a chance to be born outside of than in `</pre> and you're not some kind of infidel, basking in the luxuries provided by your assigned locale while remaining unwilling to offer up your mortal life to assure its continuation, then you already know that the RIGHT thing to do, the divine purpose you feel pumping through your heart, is stand tall & be ready to hoist your team's flag should it fall. The enemy wants to see you fail so that it can pillage its way to the holy finish line which was divinely entitled to YOU and the rest of the good guys. It preaches demoralizing propaganda designed to weaken your resolve & raise doubt toward your righteous goals. It knows ways to steal the food from your family's table... even steal your established identity and celebrate its wicked victories by splurging on the fruit sewed by YOUR noble labors. This is your preconceived understanding of the truth. There are higher levels of truth that only pertain to you as part of a bigger picture, but you need not concern yourself with such perplexing pokings & proddings into the corners of your manufactured reality. Take comfort in the ebb & flow of a pristine, global bureaucracy that, on the surface, appears to malfunction as a chaotic dumpster fire of social upheaval, random acts of blatantly hateful terrorism and increasingly violent natural disasters reminding each & every one of us that we are vulnerable and the only shelter comes from the sinister embrace of the leaders we ourselves chose to govern us, simply because that is the way the world has worked for much longer than our insignificant participation would justify constructing a new means of stability. Best not to stress over such uncontrollable details. GREEN has always meant GO. RED has always signified a mandatory STOP. ...And that proverbial cheese at the end of the maze, ever taunting the entire roster of teams? It's laced with the affectionate tongue-kiss of cyanide, the ultimate reward for any group that is able to pull ahead of the hordes and slamdunk their Nerf football into the victory bonfire. IT'S MILLER TIME... Because being on the winning team isn't what's important: WHAT COUNTS IS THAT YOUR TEAM DESTROYED AS MUCH OF THE OPPOSITION'S LIFE & LIVELIHOOD AS WAS POSSIBLE." <pre>` Over moral posturings? Over indignant evildoings? In a race to prove to the creator that your team is comprised of his chosen people and is ready to accept the role as His Holy Assassins? Over the truth behind 9/11? Over the ongoing argument concerning the actual SHAPE of the planet & the legitimacy of the very science we thought we understood, but very well may have been meticulously devised to support our indoctrinated "understanding" of a globe-shaped world, hurling through space in a cosmic dance with the star, SOL, spinning on an axis that brings it around 360° every 24 hours and marking the outlines of our 24 hour day... 7 day week... our 12 month year... An indoctrination so effective, most of us never once stop to entertain the notion that, at its essence, the concept of time in this manner, the 7 day work week (uncannily similar to the 7 days required to create the world), the weather defining 12 months adhered to by the Gregorian calendar could very logically, and historically likely, be an immeasurable, blanket imprisonment of individual human perceptions, compressing the infinite possibilities of each reality into a much more predictable & controllable number. Wrangling in those erratic, chaos-prone, possible realities that could ultimately crash the entire capitalist cabal so dependent on limiting the imaginations & therefore, the entire concept of the fabric of reality & the universe across an entire planet's population. Outrageous, right? Borderline psychotic levels of paranoia, layered with simple, obnoxious denial and a shot or 2 of worst-case-scenario gullibility, YEARS worth of nonsensical research into the ravings of like-minded lunatics whose infectious delusions have consistently contributed to the disenfranchisement and downfall of multiple promising, yet dangerously curious intellects dating all the way back to the first significant population booms & those resultant social structures that merely sought to stifle the all too common, human urge to casually rape & kill each other on the slightest of whims. When viewed in THAT light, maybe that original intent wasn't so awful. Maybe somebody just had to think of something, like, QUICK.

WE INTERRUPT THIS LITERATAL ILLUSTRATION OF AN IMPLODING BRAIN'S LAST, DESPERATE GRASP AT UNDERSTANDING TO BRING YOU THIS TEMPORARILY DEBILITATING ANXIETY ATTACK...