#but people are desperate to conflate things and say it is truth

[ultrabooob]

have been thinking about šta bih ja and bluza, and whether or not they're about who some people on twitter say they are ..

from face value i can kiiind of understand why people are saying these two songs are about her, as the band moved to london and seemingly became acquainted with Damon within the following weeks, with Damon comes S, and Bojan said they were written in and inspired by his time spent in london

however, that's as far as my understanding of that goes because these people seem to hear that it is a love song of sorts and disregard the lyrics themselves ?? both songs make reference to the distance between bojan and the subject, with the weekly calls being the only opportunity to see the face he loves in sbj, while in bluza he spells it out w "kilometre među nama" .... he is far away from this person !! similarly, how he paints out london as this city he is so isolated in, hes not saying he found love there

everything he says in these lyrics points towards leaving someone, why would you write that about someone you supposedly met in this city he speaks of - i don't understand why people would think it is about her after reading the lyrics

further, i have also seen on that gossip account that people say bojan refers to the colour of her hair, having mistaken the translation of "dok na oči mi pada mrak" to "while i see red" on lyrics translate, this has - this has since been edited to its literal translation.

the thing that gets me is, bojan posted to his story a draft of bluza on 19/01; if this is the first draft, just two weeks into being in london .... they'd have been moving at the rate of lesbians w his declaration of "ja mislim da sam se zaljubio" which is possible but given the whole location difference thing ??

x

what

[onewomancitadel]

Raven's role this volume

My most significant prediction before watching Volume 9 - which I speculated shortly after V8 ended - was that Raven would play a role in retrieving the cast from the underworld. I haven't read any other speculative posts, so this is coming from a place of ignorance as to whether other people have also speculated this. I'm mostly writing this here for myself.

Nevertheless: I still maintain this belief.

The focus so far has been on getting to the Tree of Life because that seems to be 'the way out'. First of all this is interesting because it seems like one of those futile sorts of goals - the real goal is the journey of interiority. They're focussed on a material destination. I also think the implication that there is a 'way out' properly is interesting because Ambrosius is so specific about not falling, to the point that it must be futile to focus on this one specific goal (and, well, as we know from The Girl Who Fell Through the World, it seems like the journey matters more there too).

In a broader sense this is true of the Ozlem conflict, in that Ozma has been so focussed on fighting Salem that he's forgotten why, or if there's any meaning to be found in that. Very often in fabulistic storytelling, the thing you think you were meant to do is not really tied to what you really need to do.

Take note that the Tree of Life is also conflated with the Tree of Knowledge (mythemically/symbolically these are related anyway), from which Eve ate the forbidden fruit. Obviously this is related to the fall of humanity and original sin, and you can quite clearly draw analogue with Salem and Ozma as the Adam and Eve of Remnant, but the fact we have a Tree of Knowledge when the Spring Maiden's Relic is the Lamp is, well, quite telling and perhaps meant to indicate something symbolically. The underworld, here the Special World of Ever After, is where you leave with a forbidden object - it's intentionally a transgressive journey, it crosses literal physical boundaries - and quite often that looks like knowledge.

It's possible there is perhaps a comic reverse in that the Tree of Knowledge is what's sought, when the actual guardian of Knowledge is what gets them out.

But thematically we also have the focus on mothers with Summer.

Summer is the forbidden subject - forbidden insofar as the actual truth of her is concealed, where she went and what she really ended up doing and becoming. The untouched idea of her is what can be approached, and it's what constructs Ruby's identity as a Huntress. I still maintain that Raven knows something more to do with Summer and the perfect reintroduction of her to the story is... now. This volume or the next at least. But just the theme of mothers alone is enough to make me start thinking about when the Mother of the maiden-mother-crone triple goddess will figure again into the story.

Deeper, I think what's so exciting about it is that the exit, the anabasis, the ascent, is perhaps actually predicated upon the heroes being retrieved. To go you are taken, to see you close your eyes, to hear you stop listening, to go forwards you go backwards, to go up you go down. Emotionally it is a reconcilation with Raven - or the prospect of one - it is a return that is also an exit. It also means it will hurt, and leaving will mean having to confront these feelings... and accept her help.

The heroes need saving! That's the emotional conceit! Ruby is not alone! Consider that she feels so desperately abandoned after the Fall of Atlas. Consider that she thinks no one came. Consider that Jaune has been alone for who knows how long and needs saving. Consider that they all need saving. They are the ones stuck in the underworld (Special World); they're the ones to be collected. As an aside, you might say that it's not an underworld, but for what it's doing in the story it is - and the retrieval would be unilaterally a positive one in this case, as opposed to a place where you should go and stay (the balance of life/death) e.g. Orpheus and Eurydice. It does function as a place of rebirth though!

All of the Maidens are Death and the Maiden themed. Mythically, this speculation works from the perspective that Raven is Persephone (Spring Maiden - Persephone was simply sometimes known as Kórē, 'maiden' - who passes between worlds; split spring/chthonic (a murder of ravens) iconography; meaningful ties to her husband and mother realised through transgression of physical spaces i.e. Raven's Semblance). She was sought after by her daughter, a daughter who took on the role of a mother through Ruby (and this is a role that it's obvious she's leaving this volume, which is why Ruby is not attuned to Yang's romance with Blake). This is a reverse of Demeter seeking Persephone when she is taken by Hades. That the mother-daughter relationship could be righted - that Raven comes to retrieve Yang, where she doesn't belong, but it is a world that Raven can practically as well as mythically access - works so well for the established influences as well as reprising the relationship. That it threads into the narrative and emotional arcs of the characters makes a lot of sense to me.

In terms of practical narrative possibility, what Raven retrieving them means is that it will serve as the cold shock of what is eventuating in the 'real world' and how much time has or hasn't passed. It's quite clever in this sense. It's also practical in that as opposed to thinking of a way out, really you are thinking of a way in - and in terms of ultimate purpose of Raven's Semblance, it is pretty cool, admittedly.

I think there's too much potential to ignore at this stage and practical focus on 'get to tree, get out' is something asking to be subverted in a fashion - because the journey to Ever After is not a normal journey. It's a descent, and it's a special one, and it's not like going anywhere else in Remnant. The journey into the inner self had to take place there for a reason, but how do you get out of yourself? This is why I think being saved is meaningful - it's about the heart - and the connections - which Raven's Semblance embodies - and further, the redemption arc Raven is potentially going down cements these ideas, since embedded in the redemption arc is inherently the idea of transformation and metamorphosis (see also: the butterflies). Ruby's mother wound might not be mended yet, but a mother - one of Yang's mothers - redeeming herself and saving them is ummm beautiful and now I'm crying. Thanks! 🥰🥰🥰

[idontpreferit]

I hate to get political lmao BUT--

why are we taxing SMOKERS to get art funds? While the world is trying to eliminate smoking cuz it's bad for you (going poorly, vaping is worse etc) arts funding loses money almost by design

Why not tax vapes then too ? That's crazy

My tinfoil hat is on when I say that they don't want us making art

Same reason they want us to stop saying gay unless it's to out trans kids to their parents

Same reason they got the party that used to be based on LESS government out here with their whole chest asking for censorship

"""The arts""" need to have a better way to get money to artists besides making cigarettes more expensive, which are mostly smoked by poor artists

And """""The arts"""""" need a better way to distribute funds to artists outside of the grant system which is honestly an insane model for promoting art making

Don't get me started on how they've conflated arts and activism as a venn diagram that's nearly a circle

They're DIFFERENT

I'd gladly pay a tax to fund the arts but I'm not gonna start fucking SMOKING TOBACCO

Are you fucking kidding me, We want our housing and Healthcare bitch, what the fuck

When and where are we gonna start being valued?

Maybe when and where the billionaires aren't playing checkers crushing our skulls

Of course billionaires don't want us making art

That requires critical thinking, imagination, passion, and problem solving. Oh no, too much of that and we may actually start figuring out how to performance art our way into their houses at night

Or GameStopping our way to fucking their ass(ets)

If we stay at the bottom of the hierarchy of needs, we simply won't even have time to figure out who we are

And the people bootstrapping, pounding their chests and screaming about trans people will have no time to realize they are a little bit faggy

That is, they built their entire personalities on a prescribed, narrow, strict parameter and it has nothing to do with their own true self, and they will find out that there may be nothing there, nothing left that's recognizable once you take away what "masculinity" means, or what it is to be a "man"

they have nothing left to build the Self and the ego simply cannot die without a hissy fit, bursting into flames, threatening everything around it to desperately cling to a fraying thread of their perception of reality

Women who have simply subordinated in exchange for protection, feel threatened when they see someone may choose this life rather than be born into it, and they hate it because they cannot touch the deep truth that they would not actually choose womanhood but then what of the sunk cost of their decades of life invested in womanhood?

The Stockholm syndrome of their place in society, their interface of a personality, the same pre-installed software that was never updated

Because they had to work

Feed a family they couldn't think too hard about having because abortion isn't an option, saying no to that man isn't an option

Because they had to alchemize the void into pride, into identity, when the whole time the call was coming from inside the house

No time for critical thinking, for exploration, for expression

You want to be like the self made man Elon Musk one day

The self made man Donald Trump

They're so relatable how they hate those elites

They're not like other girls

You aren't like other girls

But you're NOT WEIRD! You're special, exceptional, more deserving somehow

Because you played the game exactly how you were supposed to

So daddy will tell you he's proud

So he lets you go to heaven

So you get to retire when your body is too bent and aching to do the things you denied yourself to get there

The ideas you snuffed out because you had to work, they don't come up anymore now that you're retired, burnt out, and wheezing

You never made art

But look, a pink cyberpunk!

It was all worth it wasn't it?

No amount of cigarettes is gonna fix this.

[ecrivant]

on intimacy pt. 1 | levi ackerman

(levi ackerman x reader)

as the trauma of soldierhood begins to weigh on you, you turn to levi for comfort.  a quiet exploration of damage and the intimacy shared by two.  read pt. 2 here.

a.n. – stop me if you’ve heard this one before: a fanfic where the reader has a tender encounter with levi in his office.  i think i’m on the brink of discovering a writing trope no one has ever used before!  don’t worry, we explore the incertitude and conflation of platonic and romantic intimacy, i swear i’m different, and i swear this is a character study and not just wish fulfilment.  

touch is the reader’s love language.  

word count: 1.9k

Ferric miasma hangs in the air, low to the earth, a gauzy tulle of dawn fog.  Beneath it, terra inked with sanguine dew.  You stand above your parents’ mangled corpses, still.  Blood roars in your ears, your face pulsates, hyperaware. You hear your eyes dart between your mother’s slack jaw, ripped from the cheek, and your father’s deranged expression, one eye hanging from the socket by a tendinous cord. Freckled complexions washed in red.  Lifeless amputees, limbless, silent, barely even there.  

An immense umbra engulfs you; you have no feeling as you’re lifted into the air, ascending towards an obscure ether, pulled away from the statuesque corpses that lie beneath, overlooking a perverted vignette, figures composed in beguiling agony, a foreground washed in vermilion.  A feverish vise clutches your unmoving form, and soured iron permeates your nostrils as teeth crush your skull—you hear the sickening crunch of bone, the pulping of your brain as it seeps between fractures, but you feel nothing at all.  

You woke with a heave in the dark of the barracks, unclenching your teeth and forcing your jaw apart.  You searched in the dark until eyes find the dawn light.  Everything was still; no one had stirred at your outburst.  Why dream of them now? Your index and middle fingers wrapped around your wrist, feeling rapid palpitations, matched with an inbound throbbing behind your eyes.  You focused on a gouge in the wall opposite and listened to the steady breathing of your teammates, slowing your pulse, grounding yourself.  

An ambient hum hung in the air: the world’s low, ceaseless murmur.  In the white noise, you heard remnants of a familiar melody—something quiet your mother used to sing to you, something formless and only heard in that vague void between wakefulness and sleep.  Knowing it wasn’t there yet still listening intently, you grasped onto the wispy tones, and found yourself lost in nothing, and allowed yourself to fall into a dreamless sleep.  Your mind produced no images, yet you sensed an incoming danger that left you restless.  

You came to with Mikasa gently shaking your shoulder.  Her expectant gaze hung above you.  

“Training starts in ten minutes.”  Said with gentle urgency.  

You were inexplicably struck still, as if the thought of getting out of bed was paralyzing.  You sat up but didn’t move further.

“Don’t wait up.”

You felt a hand in yours as Mikasa kneeled, quietly examining you.  Her concerned eyes would be too much; you kept your gaze in your lap. She ran her thumb over your hand, as if to ask if you were okay.  No response, and her hand slipped out of yours.  She drifted towards the door.  

“I’ll tell Captain Levi.”

—

A lifeless automaton, you eventually found yourself on the field just as everyone began warming up, feeling Levi’s eyes on your face as you wordlessly slipped into the drill.  

“I expect punctuality at all times, not just when you feel like it.”  Like a knife.

Steel eyes, annoyed.  Concerned.  You let the reprimand linger as dull shame settled in your chest.

“Yes, sir.”  You apologized with your gaze.  

—

Your tailbone struck the ground hard, birthing a shockwave that emanated through your spine.  You made no moves to get up.  Your respiration had ceased, and you fought against your sternum for breath. Hands gripped at loose soil, desperate for tangibility.  

Eren began to gloat but cut himself off when you didn’t respond to his outreached hand.  

“Hey, what’s with you?”  He kneeled as he spoke, leveling himself with your gaze.  

You swallowed hard, tasting tears.  Panicked. The thought of death lorded over you, taunting, ready to crush you underfoot.  

“I—I don’t know.”

You were vaguely aware of Eren calling for Mikasa, strong hands lifting you, bodies supporting your dead weight.  The infirmary, hazy voices, ‘trauma,’ disembodied grey eyes, nervous observation. Void, melting away, drifting.  

Your sleep was restless, filled with ravaged bodies, flayed flesh.  As you finally awoke, you watched the glistening sinew creep up the walls, branded into your vision.  Wordless, fearful babbling.

A strong hand pressed into your shoulder, pushing you back onto the mattress.  Levi stood above you, expressionless, eyes roaming over your face. His hand remained until your expression calmed.  The croak of your voice, your uncontrolled panic—you were humiliated.  Eyes looking anywhere but him.

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

He scoffed.

“Stop thinking.”  He let go of your shoulder and held out a glass of water, bringing it to your lips to drink.  A worthless invalid.

He stayed with you for hours.  Neither spoke.  At one point he asked if you wanted him to leave—you admitted you didn’t.  

Your hand rested on the edge of the bed, and he grabbed it without thinking.  In spite of yourself, your face flushed at the contact.  His touch was comfort, an unspoken assurance.  When the nurse came to check on you, his grip stayed firm.  

You were released the next day to a group of concerned teammates.  Levi ordered them to stand down, but the words of your superior were no match for their worry.  Despite insisting you were fine, they treaded lightly, on eggshells.  Eren led you to the dining hall, a plate already prepared and sitting at the table with Mikasa and Armin.  

“Please treat me like I’m normal.”  Spoken with a hollow smile, a slapdash attempt at humor, normalcy.  

Flushed, Armin rushed to insist you were normal; Eren denied any special treatment; Mikasa watched you carefully, as if she were afraid a heavy gaze would break you.  You did feel the weight of her gaze, this time meeting her eyes, and you felt your chest swell.  Her concern cut through you, warming your face.  You tried to calm the rest of your friends down, but things began to escalate when Connie and Sasha joined in, mentioning they were glad you weren’t mentally ‘fucked up,’ to which Jean shushed them.  Glares and overlapping, apologetic rambling overwhelmed you.  You were grateful for their concern but only in doses.

Levi eyed your antics from his seat, recognizing your discomfort.  He crossed the room in long strides, silencing the table with his arrival.

“Can I speak to you in my office?”  His words were deadpan, but his eyes held no malice.  You nodded, grateful he read you, and followed him out of the room.

—

“You’re not to train for the rest of the week.”

You couldn’t suppress your shock, which quickly turns to shame.

“Captain, I’m sorry.  I won’t let my emotions interfere—”

Levi rolled his eyes, cutting you short.  You shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to say.

“It’s not punishment. Believe it or not, I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing.”  Deadpan. You had assumed you would have acclimated to his way of speaking, but it still gave you pause.  You couldn’t help you felt patronized by him.

You stood in front of his desk, looking at his cheeks, his forehead, feigning eye contact.  His gaze bore into you.  

“You’re not a special case. This has happened before.”  Again, that equivocal, Levi-specific dialect. Did he mean to comfort you?  You stayed silent, implicitly encouraging him to explain.  

“It just—it happens when a soldier isn’t,” he paused, breaking eye contact, choosing his words carefully, “hardened.”  

He returned his gaze to you.

“It doesn’t mean you’re weak, brat.  You’re just still sensitive.”

You processed his words.

“How do you become strong?”

His eyebrows raised, fractionally.  He set his jaw, his neutral expression returning.

“I just said this doesn’t mean you’re weak.  You are strong.”

“I mean, how do I avoid more of these episodes?”  You didn’t mean to raise your voice—you despised the desperation that slipped through.

“Just watch more people die.”  He eyed your reaction, taking in your surprise.  

“I don’t mean to be callous: it’s just a matter of exposure.  Each death you see or cause or cannot prevent carves at your insides until you’re… hollow. And you have to let it happen.”

You were silenced, winded by a realization of a reality of unceasing cruelty.  It was something you had always known, but to be faced with it so explicitly? You felt eviscerated.  

“Many die before they reach that point—empathetic and afraid.”  

Your knees threatened to buckle—Levi was quick to rise and support you.  He apologized for going too far.  

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

You insisted it was not his fault.  He only spoke a truth you were simply not ready to face.  Levi led you over to his desk chair and you shakily sat.  He stood before you, unmoving, before walking away, giving you space—moments later, deciding against it, he turned at the heel and returned, kneeling in front of you.  He grabbed your hands, and you felt his breath on your face.  Meeting his gaze, you saw an uncharacteristic softness, iris wavering.  You wondered if he liked speaking to you, holding you.  You wondered what would happen if you placed a chaste kiss on his lips.  Levi’s smell struck you—it was familiar, nostalgic; it reminded you of home.  Of a past, forgotten.  Of the sunshine streaming through your grandmother’s kitchen window, the smell of your father’s tobacco pipe, your mother’s vanilla perfume.  You couldn’t remember the last time you imagined any of them alive, rather than lifeless viscera.  

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, retreating as fast as you had advanced.  It was chaste, demure, and you watched Levi remain motionless, wide-eyed.  Red shame crept up your neck into your face, but you instead focused on his shock—what was the last thing that truly surprised your captain?

Your captain—captain.

Reality set in and your eyes widened in horror.  Impulse driven by an entirely constructed, drunken, nostalgic familiarity.  You felt more faint than you had in days.  It wasn’t even an especially passionate moment, more awkward and quiet and, frankly, underwhelming.  Maybe that was what made a first kiss special: the unique mundanity of it.  You wished you could revel in the indistinctness of the moment—but instead, you fearfully eyed Levi, half-embarrassed, half-angry that you would so blatantly and thoughtlessly overstep that boundary.  You retraced your thoughts: had you ever been captivated by Levi, or were you caught up in the moment of comfort he offered you?  The intimacy of familiarity, amity?  Maybe a bit of both.  

You watched as he finally recovered, defaulting to his normal expression.  He didn’t have a tell, except for the deep red that tinged the tips of his ears.  He pulled away, returning to his standing position and cutting you off before you had the chance to speak.  

“Don’t apologize.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”  He spoke firmly, softly.  Idiosyncratically Levi.

Emboldened by some deep irrationality, you spoke, not shying away from his gaze: “It felt nice, sir.”

He was silent again, short-circuited by your boldness.  You hung, suspended, in the tension of the room.  He eventually confirmed your statement, agreeing.  

“It did.”  Bewildering for the both of you.

You insisted you needed to go back to your room and try to get some sleep, a cumbrous mess of meaning and filler words, and Levi didn’t stop you.  There was no declaration of love, nor did he beg you to stay the night with him.  You stood up and left, and as you shut the door, you looked back and caught a smile break through Levi’s look of consternation.

— 

haha!  part 1 of 2!  i know we’re all horny and want levi to just ravage us, but i honestly think he wouldn’t know what to do with intimacy and physical touch and i will die on this hill if i have to!  anyway, feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated!

[warrioreowynofrohan]

On Doriathrin Isolationism

I’ve seen a fair number of takes in the Silm fandom on the topic of either “the Noldor are horrible imperialists” or “the Sindar are horrible isolationists”, so I thought it would be interesting to take a closer look at Doriathrin policy.

Firstly, how isolationist are they, following the creation of the Girdle of Melian? They still have close relations with the Laiquendi of Ossiriand, and some of them come to Doriath. They still have close relations with Círdan and are in communication with him. They’re fairly close with the children of Finarfin: Galadriel lives in Doriath, the others visit, Finrod is close enough with Thingol to act as an intermediary between him and the Haladin, and Thingol is the one who tells Finrod of the location for Nargothrond. The dwarves continue travelling to Doriath, and trading, and living there for long periods to do commissioned craft-work, through long periods of the First Age, even after the Nirnaeth - the Nauglamír Incident could never have happened if not for that. All these people can pass freely into Doriath. So we’re not talking about Doriath cutting itself off from the rest of the world, not by any means. We’re talking specifically about its relations with three groups: 1) the Fingolfinian and Fëanorian Noldor; 2) the Edain; and 3) the Northern Sindar.

Every time I try to write this post it gets really long, so here I’m going to focus on Doriath’s relationship with the first and third groups, other Elves, and leave the Edain for a separate post.

Doriath and the Northern Sindar

Thingol’s attitude towards this group is the least excusable, and something I wasn’t aware of until I got my hands on a copy of The Peoples of Middle-earth (HoME Vol. 12):

[Thingol] had small love for the Northern Sindar who had in regions near to Angband come under the dominion of Morgoth, and were accused of sometimes entering his service and providing him with spies. The Sindarin used by the Sons of Fëanor also was of the Northern dialect; and they were hated in Doriath.

Now, to be clear, Thingol is wrong about the Northern Sindar being shifty. They’re the ones more commonly described in The Silmarillion as the grey-elves of Hithlum. They make up a substantial portion of the people of Gondolin. They include Annael and his people, who raise Tuor. (Presumably others live in, or moved to, East Beleriand along with the Fëanorians, as the Fëanorians speak their tongue.) 

Here is what I think probably happened. We have statements in The Silmarillion that Morgoth captured elves when he could, and that:

“The Noldor feared most the treachery of those of their own kin, who had been thralls in Angband; for Morgoth used some of these for his evil purposes, and feigning to give them liberty sent them abroad, but their wills were chained to his, and they strayed only to com back to him again; therefore if any of his captives escaped in truth, and returned to their own people, they had little welcome, and wandered alone outlawed and desperate”. 

If Morgoth also captured some of the Northern Sindar - who, living closer to Angband, would be more at risk of this than Doriathrim, Falathrim, or Laiquendi - there could, as with later Noldor prisoners, have been some who were under his control and attacked and betrayed other elves. The Doriathrin Sindar, living further from Angband, might have been unaware of their capture, conflated this with deliberate and willful treachery, and so mistrusted the Northern Sindar.

That does not excuse Thingol’s attitude. He is stereotyping, and he is claiming kingship of all Beleriand while writing off a substantial portion of his own people, and this is unacceptable. One cannot claim rule of a people while simultaneously disdaining them and forswearing respinsibility for them. It is little surprise than the Northern Sindar largely joined themselves with various groups of Noldor and would have been glad of their arrival.

Doriath and the Noldor

This case is more complicated. I don’t like conflations of Thingol’s attitude towards the Fingolfinian and Fëanorian Noldor - or the Edain, for that matter - with anti-immigration sentiment. The basic concept of immigration is that you want to go to another country and live as a member of that country. When you enter an existing realm, claim its territory as your own, set up your own government, and justify it on the basis of “you’re not militarily able to stop us” that is not immigration. That is called an invasion, or annexation, or something of the sort. (Even if the realm in question is currently under invasion by enemies! Imagine if the British, after D-Day, had tried to annex half of France.)

(I will also note here that Thingol did not abandon the rest of the people of Beleriand prior to the Noldor’s arrival. The First Battle was the Doriathrim fighting alongside the Laiquendi. When Morgoth’s invasion became too large to fight on every front, the creation of the Girdle was the right choice. When assaulted by an overwhelming enemy force, the best, and indeed only militarily possible, option may be to withdraw as many of your people as possible to your fortress (as Thingol does - many of the Laiquendi and as many as possible of the grey-elves of Western Beleriand are evacuated to Doriath) and buckle down for a siege.) 

And the Noldor didn’t come with the Sindar’s benefit in mind. (As I have noted before, they were not even away of Angband’s existence. The Return was focused on fighting one very dangerous individual, regaining the Silmarils, and setting up realms in - if we’re being generous to the Noldor - presumably unoccupied territory. If we’re not being generous, the aim can equally well be read as setting themselves up as the rulers of the elves of Middle-earth. If their goal, or even a tiny part of their goal, was “rescue the Sindar”, then they could have pitched that to Olwë to get him on board - “help us rescue your brother from Morgoth” is a way stronger argument than “you owe us, you cultureless barbarians”.)

So, given that they’re annexing his territory without even considering that it might be someone else’s territory, it’s very understandable that Thingol isn’t pleased by the Noldor.  

On the other hand, Beleriand does benefit from the Noldor’s presence. Maedhros is quite correct when he points out that Thingol’s alternative to having the Nolder in northern Beleriand would be having orcs there [ironically, the Fëanorians do more harm to Doriath than orcs ever do, but that’s far in the future]. So given that the Sindar and Noldor have a common and very dangerous enemy, Thingol should at least try to work wth them. His deliberate isolation from the Noldor even prior to finding out about the Kinslaying comes across as prideful and petty. I am thinking particular of the absolutely minimal Doriathrin participation in Mereth Aderthad, when Fingolfin was specifically seeking to build a Beleriand-wide alliance, something that was in all their interests; and, addtionally, of not allowing the Nolofinwëans into Doriath. It automatically precludes any high-level negotiations or, just as importantly, any amount of in-person interaction that could lead to greater understanding. I can understand Thingol’s attitude towards Mereth Aderthad on some level - Fingolfin is in effect acting as though he is High King of Beleriand, something Thingol would resent - but it is nonetheless shortsighted.

It’s also worth noting, though, that acting with more tact and treating Thingol as King of Beleriand - as in fact he was throughout the Ages of the Stars - would not necessarily have posed any great difficulty or impeded Noldoran autonomy in decision-making in northern Beleriand. Notably, Thingol is on good terms with Finrod, gives him the location for building Nargothrond, and has no problems with him setting up a realm governing a large swath of West Beleriand. And yes, being relatives doesn’t hurt, but what stands out in this relationship is that Finrod treats Thingol with respect. He understand that Thingol knows more about Beleriand than him, and asks advice; when the Edain arrive, he’s the only one of the Noldor to consult with Thingol on his decisions (and that willingness to consult is what gets Thingol to agree to the Haladin settling in Brethil). And none of this prevents Finrod, or Orodreth after him, from having autonomy from Doriath in their decisions as lords of Nargothrond.

However, another interesting point is that Thingol’s early attitude towards the Noldor is not driven only by resentment of their infringements on his authority, but also by outright mistrust that doesn’t seem to be clearly grounded. Note that, after Galadriel tells Melian about Morgoth’s slaying of Finwë and theft of the Silmarils (which is well after Mereth Aderthad), Melian and Thingol talk, and Thingol says of the Noldor, “Yet all the more sure shall they be as allies against Morgoth, with whom it is not now to be thought they shall ever make treaty.” [Emphasis mine.] Which means that prior to this, he was genuinely worried about the Noldor allying with Morgoth! To paraphase The Order of the Stick, Thingol took Improved Paranoia several levels ago. (But he always seems to be paranoid about the wrong things. The Fëanorians are a threat, but not because of any possible league with Morgoth. Likewise, he is hostile to Beren because of dreams of a Man bringing doom to Doriath, but Thingol’s death and the first destruction of Doriath is instead set off by the actions of Húrin in bringing the cursed Nauglamír.)

So on the whole, neither the Noldor nor Thingol are behaving ideally in their early relations. After Thingol learns about Alqualondë, I find his hostility - especially to the Fëanorians - very warranted.  These aren’t some distant, once-related group of elves, these are his brother’s people! And “willing to betray and attack their friends” is not a quality anyone is looking for in an ally, nor something that is going to lead to trust.  

This also carries over to everything relating to the Leithian and the Silmaril. (Again, it is important to note with respect to the Leithain that Thingol states outright, after giving Beren the quest that he has zero expectation of - or desire for - Beren to obtain the Silmaril.  It’s a combination suicide mission and “when pigs fly” statement, and most people who say “when pigs fly” aren’t aiming at the invention of animatronic flying pigs.) In a theoretical world where the Kinslaying didn’t happen and the Fëanorians had no involvement in the Quest of the Silmaril, they might have had  a good shot at negotiating for it! (A much better shot than they had at getting it out of Angband, which they never even tried.) But of course Thingol would have no interest in handing it over to the people who, on top of the Kinslaying, also 1) betrayed his nephew and sent him to his death [that’s kind of on you as well, Elu], 2) kidnapped and attempted to rape his daughter; and 3) attempted to murder his daughter. And there should not be any reasonable expectation that he ought to do so! By their actions, the Fëanorians have forfeited any right to demand anything at all from Thingol, or from Beren and Lúthien, or from their descendents. 

(This is, in fact, the very point made in the Doom of Mandos: their oath shall drive them and yet betray them. Every Fëanorian action driven by the oath is counterproductive to them obtaining any of the Silmarils.)

Conclusion

In short:

- Yes, the Noldor are imperialist in their goals, but in they end they’re not ruling anyone who isn’t willing to be ruled by them. And the Northern Sindar who are part of their realms are people who Thingol had explicitly written off, which doesn’t reflect well on him.

- Doriath is not as isolationist as it is often portrayed and has close relations with many of the peoples in Beleriand. It also does participate in the wars against Morgoth (I’ll go into that in more detail in my Edain post). And they have valid grievances against the Fëanorians. However, Thingol’s deliberate snubbing of the FIngolfinian Noldor (and even before he knew about the Kinslaying), despite the evident benefits of planning a common defense of Beleriand, is selfish and petty.

[toshootforthestars]

Donald Trump does not become president of a country by accident, although there has inarguably been a strong slapstick element to it.

A country would first have to be depraved enough to produce a Donald Trump in the first place, and then it would have to go on getting progressively sicker in ways that permitted him to rise, through one egregious public idiocy after another and from one act of casual defilement to the next, to the sort of prominence that would make that presidential campaign possible. It would have to be sick in ways that would make it such that long before he inexorably won his party’s nomination and then the nation’s highest office, nearly every American knew his name.

The country would have to be distracted and defeated and deluded enough to believe that this qualified him, and even qualified him in unique ways. It would have conflated not just who Trump appeared to be on TV with who he really was, but its own governance with unusually slow-moving TV programming.

[...]

One of the most important things to know about Trump is that he never has a plan. He barely has an itinerary. He simply moves from one flubby gilded hustle to the next, dedicating each moment to whatever feels good or whatever he thinks looks strongest. What mess he leaves behind is by definition not his problem, and he’s always already somewhere else by the time the stain sets.

Trump is used to having other people do what he says, because he is richer and more powerful than them; that people have almost always done just that has made him soft and weak and strange, but also it has seldom led to him being seriously inconvenienced. He’ll call that a win.

So of course Trump didn’t have a plan for losing the election. He expected that the people working under him—that is, the entire United States government—would find a way to stop the election that he’d lost from becoming official when he gave that order, but he had no sense of how that might work beyond them just somehow doing it. He promised evidence that would show he was right and then told other people to find it. It never came, but at some point he just started acting as if it had been delivered and denied, and began talking about how unfair that was.

It was his opinion that he’d won ten or so million more votes than he’d actually received, a victory that Trump, Trumpianly, called “a sacred landslide.”

On Wednesday, after he told them to do it, hundreds of people who live to share Trump’s opinions overran the U.S. Capitol building on his behalf, because they believed they were doing their patriotic duty or at least serving their own unenlightened self-interest; it is a pillar of Trumpism not to recognize a distinction between the two. They were mostly following through on the promise that has always been at the heart of Trump’s appeal, which is that they would get to be a part of his greatest deal ever, and cut in ahead of every less-connected other person when it came time to share the winnings, and enjoy the premium luxury finishes and absolute personal impunity synonymous with the word “Trump.”

Trump has used this glib old huckster’s promise long before it became the heart of his last and most ambitious grift, to sell real estate seminars and signature neckties and ghostwritten books about winning and any number of other similarly valueless things.

Trump has always promised to make the profoundly broken American state work for the people that voted for him, or at least more readily and brutally against the people that those voters didn’t like.

He really did deliver on the last bit, but Trump’s success in unleashing the full idiotic force of American sadism was less a matter of anything he actually did and more a matter of the license he gave others to do as he does—to do whatever outrageous harm they want to do, to demand whatever they want simply because they wanted it.

As the clock ran out on his presidency, Trump began making demands that were more and more difficult and dangerous and degrading to fulfill, and when he stopped getting those things he simply demanded them again, this time more bitterly and with redoubled grandiosity. By Wednesday, the conflations were total—for him to lose the presidency was inherently unconstitutional, it was illegal, it went against God; the only truly patriotic thing to do was to keep the country under his singularly damp command, indefinitely; to save the nation, everything that was not Trump would need to be permanently replaced with him.

“We’re going to walk down,” Trump told his people on Wednesday, “we’re going to walk down to the Capitol, and I’ll be there with you, and we’re going to cheer on our brave senators and congressmen and women and we’re probably not going to be cheering so much for some of them.”

Trump didn’t actually walk with his people down to the Capitol, because he doesn’t walk as a matter of course and because he doesn’t do his own errands. His loyalists rushed the Capitol and briefly, giddily, took it over and defaced it on his behalf; the president was driven home to watch it on television and complain on Twitter about all the people who had let him down.

[...]

...the country’s leaders cannot quite bring themselves to say that the lives of people living in this country matter at all, let alone act as if they do. The state fails daily; it has somehow forgotten how to do anything but hurt and cannot even agree that it would be good to try to help. It does not tell the truth as a matter of course, which gives license to everyone adrift in this to believe whatever story they find most compelling.

In the ways that matter most, in the places where it is needed most, the state barely exists. Where there is supposed to be strength is only power and brute force; what is supposed to be held in common has been openly looted; the triumphal national image is gnawed to bits by a frantically denied shame and raw fear.

The distance and defeat in this is awful to behold, and has created a nation that is both desperately strident and shockingly servile. In the absence of any capacity or will to demand more from it, politics just becomes what people argue about instead of what’s actually happening to them. It’s just a TV show, and people watch it as such.

This was the one big thing that Trump understood—not just that he could do whatever vile thing he wanted, but how many millions there were who truly could not imagine any greater pleasure or higher calling than the chance to do it for him.

Dave Roth:  After The Sacred Landslide 

Defector   /   9 Jan 2021

[jadelotusflower]

Roundup - September 2021

This month: Saving Fish From Drowning, Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass, Anne Boleyn, Cruella, The Chair

Reading

Saving Fish from Drowning (Amy Tan) - I've always enjoyed Tan's work (particularly The Joy Luck Club, both the book and film) - Fish is somewhat of a departure, following a group of American tourists in Myanmar, narrated by their recently deceased friend Bibi Chen. The novel begins with a preface in which Tan explains she drew inspiration for the novel based on real events chronicled by a San Franciscan psychic's "automatic writing" channeling Chen's spirit (in truth a complete invention on Tan’s part, both literary device and metaphor).

Bibi is a compelling narrator, full of wry commentary of her friends as they bumble their way through their trip, the tone of the novel quite light despite some of the dark subject matter around the political situation in Myanmar (the novel was written in 2005 and set several years earlier) and the nature of intervention - the title referring to fisherman who "save fish from drowning" by netting them. It was at times difficult to keep track of all twelve (!) of the main characters and who was who outside of the few who get the most attention of the narrative.

An interesting read, about the stories we tell ourselves and others, and the fictions we believe for comfort and hope.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass and what Alice found there (Lewis Carroll) - I've been making more of an effort to work on my novel lately, which makes some reference to these works so thought it was due for a re-read. It seems impossible to consider these separate novels given how conflated they have become in pop culture - even the Disney film takes elements from both - they act as either a duology, or alternatively a single story told in two parts.

I personally much prefer Looking Glass, perhaps because I imprinted on the 1985 miniseries as a child (which adapts both novels, but we only had the second part on tape) - best known for it's celebrity cameos in silly costumes - including Sammy Davis Jnr, Donald O'Connor, Ringo Starr, and Carol Channing, among others, and the danger of the Jabberwocky as a manifestation of Alice's fears quite a nice idea that isn't found in the original text.

Perhaps Looking Glass, while remaining absurdist, is more cohesive than Wonderland with the chess motif and central motive for Alice to reach the Eighth Square and become a queen. I do however find the constant poetry tedious, and wonder whether both Wonderland and Looking Glass are better remembered for the concepts rather than the actual text.

Watching

Anne Boleyn (episodes 1-3) - I didn't think we needed another film/show about Anne, but I was always going to watch it. This series relies upon familiarity with history as it begins with Anne's final, doomed pregnancy - opening with the haunting words “Anne is the most powerful woman in England - she has just five months to live.”

There's nothing especially new here; rather a mood and character piece as Anne's isolation and desperation grows. It is of course built around the central, compelling performance of Jodie Turner-Smith, in every single scene and not afraid to shy away from Anne's sharper edges while remaining profoundly sympathetic, surrounded by a court of whispers, her existence on a knife's edge. We know only what Anne knows, and we see the smaller, heartbreaking moments usually passed over in other adaptations - in her grief following the stillbirth, Anne sits up in bed almost catatonic, milk leaking from her breasts, her attempt to walk back the infamous “dead man's shoes” comment, and the long days of her imprisonment.

Then there’s the beautiful costumes - in a court of dark furs, Anne wears bold primary colours and velvets that catch the light, that them become more subdued prints once she is in the Tower.

The other notable feature is the casting - described as "identity conscious" rather than colour-blind, representative of the othering of Anne and her relatives. Another standout is Thalissa Teixeira as Anne's cousin Madge Shelton, fleshed out as her confidant and the only one who remains true to her. It's a fresh perspective and a worthwhile watch, particularly for Turner-Smith's performance.

Cruella (dir. Craig Gillespie) - Spoilers. I wasn’t planning on bothering with this, but my sister wanted to watch it and I’d been told by several people that it was actually quite good. Look, I'm not saying they lied, I just think they were able to look past things that I was not.

Because actually, the core story has potential and the film has enjoyable elements (notably Emma Thompson), but simply falters every time they try and shoehorn references to the source material, and there are some truly egregious attempts - Roger is the Baroness’s lawyer for some reason? And writes the familiar Cruella De Vil song about how awful she is when she's just given him a puppy?

It doesn’t work as a prequel, or villain origin story, or even a reboot, since Cruella’s character journey is over by the end of the film (I have no idea what the purported sequel is going to be about) - in fact "Cruella" is just a persona Stone's Estella adopts (complete with a terrible affected accent), and there is no conceivable way for her to become the wannabe puppy murderer we know from the book or any of the film adaptations. Oh, and Pongo and Perdita are siblings! Well done, Disney. Slow clap for you.

Also, with a runtime of 2 hours 16 minutes it is Interminable and the whole thing is saddled with a terrible, unnecessary voiceover. Seriously, they should show this in film class to demonstrate when v/o hinders not helps.

They were likely going for a Maleficent-style re-imagining, but where that succeeded (somewhat) in a completely new retelling right down to a different ending to the source material, this wants to have it's cake and eat it too - it wants to have the Cruella aesthetic (the car, the hair, Hell Hall, the camp accent) but doesn't ever let her be a villain, or even the beginnings of a villain, but that's that's reason she's so memorable in the first place. It puts all the pieces in place for the story we know, and yet that story simply cannot happen with this version of Cruella.

In the end, it's a story of a fundamentally decent person who maybe goes a bit overboard in retaliating to bullies, and swindles a sociopath to reclaim what's rightfully hers. Cruella De Vil! I just couldn't get over this fundamental misapplication of the source material.

In many ways, it almost feels as if this was pitched as a sequel, with Cruella in the Baroness role. It would have fit a lot better with the aesthetic, the time period, and the concept of punk disruption of classic fashion. Or, it was a completely unrelated story of a plucky orphan who rises in the fashion world, that at some point was grafted onto the Dalmatians property. Either one would have worked better, frankly.

I am probably being overly harsh. If you switch off your brain and enjoy the clothes it’s fine. But honestly, if you want your live action Cruella fix, just watch the Glenn Close version, because it is superior in every way.

The Chair (season 1) - I watched this for Sandra Oh, and I was not disappointed, because I got to watch Sandra Oh. On the other hand...it's not that I didn't like it, I just...wish it had been better?

The story revolves around Ji-Yoon Kim, the first woman (let alone woman of colour) to become Chair of English at a "minor Ivy" university, as she tries to juggle the clash of old style academia and new, raise her daughter as a single mother, and deal with a series of controversies caused by one of her professors (and love interest). It's the latter I feel sucked up way too much time and was ultimately unsatisfying - particularly the end, which was played like a moral victory but really rubbed me the wrong way. If this gets a season 2, I hope they dump Jay Duplass' fuckup sadsack because hoo boy, am I sick of that kind of male character.

But Sandra Oh is wonderful.

Writing

The Lady of the Lake - chapter 5 posted, 4215 words (10,261)

Against the Dying of the Light 1954 words (11,976)

Here I Go Again - 414 words (12,948)

Novel - 1039 words (1484)

Total this month: 7,622

Total this year: 48,435

[incoherentbabblings]

Earth 3 Stephanie is a Sad Person and Tim Kinda Made Things Worse Whoops

Earth Three Steph is sad for a lot of reasons but the inadvertent taunting Tim gives her by simply loving his Stephanie lots is certainly up there.

Like, if we are taking Bendis at face value here, either not everyone on Earth 3 is evil, or Stephanie Brown is legitimately one of like...three examples of not evil people on Earth 3... somehow?

Side note. This sounds so mean but YJ... is not a complicated series. Some folk were desperately trying to pull threads saying Bendis was building up this really intricate theory that the reason Zatanna’s mind magic didn’t work on Steph was because she wasn’t actually Steph she was EVIL!Steph and not the real Steph and that was the reason Earth Three Steph was good is because Earth Three is after all supposed to be the morality of the main heroes and villains flipped and maybe these two Stephs has switched places at some point and this is why Tim and Steph are going to break up my dislike of her character is totally justified guys... 

The truth is... Bendis just didn’t go with that cause it didn’t suit the story he was trying to tell. Either he doesn’t know how Earth Three works or he didn’t care (or both). YJ 2019 is not the place for morally complex superhero comics. The good guys are friends who love each other, the bad guys are obviously bad and kinda incompetent. 

So Main Earth Steph is good. Earth Three Steph is good. Or rather, is good in that she hates short sighted selfish people. Which is what her Young Justice are.

Long post under the cut because it’s me and I can’t do brief to save my legs if they were tied to a woodchipper. 

Hey! You! Yes you! Are you a young fellow with a big brain and big ideas and a slightly off kilter mental state? You may have a Stephanie Brown forming a crush on you! Are you a young fellow with a big brain and big ideas and a slightly off kilter mental state with a desire to better people’s living standards? Congratulations! Somewhere there’s a Stephanie Brown falling in love! Oh what’s that? You’re not using that big brain and big ideas and off kilter mental state to better mankind? You’re literally just doing it for shits and giggles and to impress another girl? Well now there’s a Stephanie Brown who thinks you’re a waste of space! You’re a self-absorbed lazy git!  

Joking aside, it’s interesting that her biggest umbrage with these guys is their lack of foresight and hedonism. The inequality of the power they hold over others, and the fact that they are wasting that power on benefiting themselves and trying to one up each other. She’s been trying to slow the decay nearly singlehandedly, seemingly before the Crime Syndicate ever made their way across for events like Forever Evil. But she’s been doing it alone for a long time, and her drive was starting to falter when YJ crashed up.

So, you have this girl who somehow is one of the only genuinely kind hearted people on this planet - trying to do right by the downtrodden - who apparently knows Earth 3′s Tim Drake well enough to not be frightened or threatened by him. And maybe she liked him romantically? Idk I guess it’s how relevant you take her snarking about Drake’s crush on Amaxon, could be just her snarking, could be partial resentment - like a sort of why her and not me sort of tone. Idk, ymmv there. We get no indication of how Earth Three Tim feels about anything really (like I said, Bendis is not aiming for complexity in this title).

Point is, this is a Stephanie Brown who, from what we see, is very, very, very alone. And what’s the very first thing Tim says to her?

How loved his Stephanie is. There’s a lot of that. Our Tim’s Stephanie is very, very, very, loved. Earth Three Stephanie...is not. But Tim’s language here is just him conflating the two girls into one. ‘I am in a very intense relationship with you’, ‘all I want to do is get home to you’, ‘God, I miss you so much’. 

And Tim doesn’t flipping help matters by going off on her like this. And then when Bart punches her out Tim’s body language is not the way you hold an unconscious stranger plus Bart just takes Tim’s word for it that because this girl is Steph she’s not evil??? Like where is the logic? I love her on my Earth so on this Earth it must be the same? Tim...

And he continues to be overly familiar with this Steph (‘mesmerizing’ TimoTHY please) and she’s just trying to do right by them to get them back home. She’s trying to draw a boundary. She’s not his girl back home. That girl is waiting for him.

But Tim just cannot make the distinction at all. 

She’s trying to do the right thing but this Tim is making things complicated. How awful must it feel to be faced with someone who loves you, but not you. Someone who has a big brain with big ideas and wants to help you help others. Someone who is in love with you. 

But it’s not you.

Someone who crashes into your world, and helps liberate a city. Just because he can and it’s the right thing to do. He won’t go home to his girl until it’s done. He came here for a reason.

Stephanie Brown is still so closely tied to hope, even on Earth Three. She holds on to it for what looks like a helpless fight. She thanks YJ when they restore it to the city. She implies that the people of Earth Three aren’t inherently bad or violent, it’s just all they've ever known and give them some time to readjust. Hope springs anew and all that. She’s still really good with kids, and she’s really protective over them still. 

And apparently a few other of these visiting folk again immediately warm up to you the moment they hear who ‘you’ are like oh ‘you’re’ really are liked over the border and ‘she’s totally in love with Drake too!’

Wait what? BART whaT? Does Bart have like...super people reading skills? Is it that obvious how much Stephanie is kinda yearning for that other Stephanie’s life and relationships? Is that it? Can he see that she’s jealous? Can Tim?

Side note: Still going feral over Steph and that little dark haired child heavens above

Considering in the previous issue she was all ‘this world is not your problem’ only to say ‘Come with me. Or don’t.’ and ‘I mean, it’s up to you. It’s a hell of a leap of faith’. Like, she’s not discouraging them from leaving at all, it’s just... half hearted do you want to go? Yeah. You do. You should. You’re sure? You should... You sure?

Tim leaves her with just a simple kindness. A thank you. And a lingering stare. I don’t know how to read that. Maybe something did get cut from the script? What is it implying? That Tim is reluctant to go? Regardless, Steph cries.

Say goodbye to that boy who has a big brain with lots of clever plans and a good heart and holds you gently and has nice friends who just want to help and be friendly to you. And you’re loved. Loved beyond dimension boundaries.

But it’s not you.

And that’s why Tim kinda made things worse for Earth Three Stephanie Brown. You can’t miss what you’ve never had. Except now she knows what she is missing out on. Now she knows what she’ll never have. And ouch my heart just broke.

[thewhitefluffyhat]

No, Alina Isn’t Crazy

Let me explain...

When Alina was first introduced, I thought she was the character that made the least sense as an actual person rather than as a trope-y “mad artist” archetype.  But after the reveal of her backstory, I find her personality and motivations do make sense, especially when you consider the events of Alina’s Magical Girl Story from her perspective.  

Indeed, since that story’s release on JP, she’s quickly risen to become my favorite new character from Magia Record.  Hence why I’m posting this today - it’s another semi-Magia Rapport related post, haha.  Alina is definitely my favorite of the Forest element characters, and perhaps this essay will show a little of why that is.

Provocative title and Magia Rapport aside, though, what’s actually below the "Keep reading” is a close read analysis essay, specifically focused on Alina’s MGS.  (A lot of Holy Alina’s MGS serves to confirm and reinforce little points scattered throughout this too, but this post was long enough without it!)

Introduction

The theme of Alina’s own art might be “Alina’s beauty” and “life, death, and emotion/decay.”  But I would argue that the theme of her MGS as a when taken as a short story is “voyeurism and objectification at the cost of self-identity.”  Specifically, how Alina’s actions and personality are the logical conclusion to that concept taken to an extreme.

There’s one important truth to Alina’s world, and that is the idea that Alina’s art IS Alina.  We see it at the start – when she says her art is what she enjoys and what she grasps with her own hands.  We see it at the end – with her realization that her art’s theme is “Alina’s beauty.”

And at the end of the day, what MGS Alina most seems to want is to be left alone to do art, to be herself.  But who is Alina?

Alina the Teen Prodigy

Unfortunately for Alina, her fame gets in the way of figuring that out.  Such is the life of a teen prodigy.  As perhaps can be expected, constantly parading children under a spotlight is a great recipe for turning out extremely high-strung kids with very warped self-esteem.

(See also: Nemu, but especially Touka.)

The exchange regarding the award here is a good illustration of that mindset.  It might initially seem contradictory for Alina to work desperately hard to win an award that she later doesn’t want and claims she wasn’t aiming to win.  But once being “gifted” becomes central to your identity, winning an award doesn’t feel good anymore.  It feels more like running in place, just the bare minimum expected of you to maintain your identity as a genius.  And Alina’s perfectionism means she can’t not hold herself to that standard.

Indeed, Alina is already showing signs that she’s struggling under the pressure and overexposure.  Normally, Alina seems to love talking about art and her own works (as long as it isn’t about herself, anyway).  Arguing with her teacher and running away are far more of a bother and interfere with her ability to get back to painting far more than a quick meeting would have been.  Yet she curses at her teacher, bolts, and skips school rather than have to deal with the consequences of her fame again.

She’s irrationally lashing out, asserting her boundaries in whatever way she can. And with the way the characters react, this doesn’t even seem like the first time it’s happened, either...

Which suggests Alina’s problems with her fame also aren’t new.  When we first meet her, Alina is already a lot closer to a breakdown than she appears on the surface.

Having natural talent from an early age, Alina probably hasn’t learned how to deal with failure without spiraling into a full blown identity crisis.  As a perfectionist, she’s also hypersensitive to even the slightest mistake.  And given that she’s been famous for a few years at this point, her acting out is practically expected.

Just given the setting that she’s a well-known child prodigy, it’s not surprising that Alina has all these traits.

Alina’s Adults Are Useless

What is a bit disturbing, though, is that adults around Alina aren’t any help in protecting her from her fame.

Indeed, from what we see, the pattern is the opposite - over and over, the supposedly “responsible” adults in Alina’s life say her visibility matters more than her consent.  Her teacher pressures her into competitions she dislikes and then gets on her case when she pushes back.  Her parents put up her whole life story, including photos of her as a kid, without Alina’s approval or even permission. 

Jumping ahead, I think it’s rather telling that Alina manages to destroy all her art, commit suicide, and get rescued by a third party – and none of these adults even visit her.  A popular theory is that Alina’s parents are travelling in a different country.  But - did no one tell them?  Did they not care?  As it is, anything Alina does – even blatant red flags like destroying a classroom and her own art – is treated as just another work of artistic genius, to be advertised and exhibited.  

(Because apparently nothing says High Art like creep shots of a teenage girl having a mental breakdown.)

Of course, Alina isn’t being neglected or abused like Sana or Yuma.  Not even close.  But she’s not in a great situation either.  She doesn’t really have anyone she can turn to in a crisis.  The adults in her life mostly use her for their own ends, reinforcing that her worth is in her fame as an artist, not her value as a person.

Alina’s Peers Aren’t Much Better

Then, on a more subtle level, there are Alina’s peers.  Whenever she’s mentioned by people her own age, she’s either the subject of scary rumors or glowing admiration.  Other kids know her as a celebrity name to be idolized or feared, not a person.  

Before becoming a magical girl, the only person who actually makes an effort to befriend Alina is Karin.  But even she is initially caught up in the aura of Alina’s fame and contributes to the swirl of gossip around her.

The result is a situation where everyone around Alina has their own opinion on who she is.  No one seems to care or leave space for who Alina wants herself to be.  And Alina, not having a social life to fall back on, is increasingly left with “genius artist” as the only means she has to interact with the world.  It’s a self-reinforcing spiral.

The Critic’s Letter

First, what it’s not: this isn’t about Alina getting a bad review and not being able to handle criticism of her work.  She’s already won the competition.  And Alina is perfectionistic to unhealthy levels - she’s already her own worst critic.

Rather, the letter’s insinuations are both subtler and crueler.  As Alina says, the critic isn’t concerned with her artwork - he’s commenting on Alina as a person.   Thus, the critic’s words are the same pattern as before, now crystallized into its sharpest and purest form.

Alina’s internal sense of identity is precariously fragile.  Meanwhile, Alina’s external identity is being used as a canvas for other people’s desires.  Even though all Alina really wants is to create art for her own sake, other people obsess over and dump their own meaning (or lack of meaning) onto her works.

Once again, Alina’s art is conflated with Alina herself.  The person is being evaluated as a piece of art.

As if that wasn’t enough, the letter’s final insinuation that Alina is losing her brilliance is a triple threat.  If she can’t create great art, Alina loses the activity she enjoys most. She also loses the one thing she knows other people value her for.  And worst of all, she loses the only touchpoint she has for her sense of self.

Cue existential crisis.  Alina’s life is Alina’s art.  Alina’s art is Alina life.   Without one, she doesn’t have any concept of the other.  

And in the light of all this, her suicide makes perfect sense. 

Alina’s Suicide

Welcome to the literal and figurative objectification of Alina.  Literal, in that she’s turning into a corpse.  Figurative in that by putting her body up for display, she’s allowing people to voyeuristically consume it –  an idea further reinforced by the “Kusouzu / Nine Phases” reference in the title implying a tinge of sexual objectification as well. 

Now that she’s destroyed all of her previous works, the only thing Alina leaves her audience to look at is Alina herself.  Filming her body as it turns from a person into a dead object was simply the logical conclusion to a life of being displayed, objectified, and overwritten by others’ perceptions.  

But how does Alina feel about this ending?

The day of her suicide, Alina rushes around in a kind of manic euphoria.  This isn’t especially odd.  After all, it’s not uncommon for a suicidal person to outwardly appear happier before they make an attempt, as finally having a concrete plan of action can feel like a huge relief.  

Dying means a solution to Alina’s worries about her talent fading.  Dying also means an end to all the pressure, all the constant struggle of performing to ever-heightening expectations.  Alina can simply abandon the cases and tools once she’s done with them - no need to stress about the future when she won’t have one.

Alina’s farewell, though, betrays darker emotions.  It’s simultaneously deeply spiteful - “this is what you all wanted from me, are you happy now?” - yet also an admission of utter defeat.  Alina is giving up her very humanity and selfhood to be evaluated as whatever her audience wants.

Throughout the story, everyone keeps telling Alina that her art is intoxicating, pulling the viewer into it… but the reality is the exact opposite.  Alina’s art was just something Alina made for herself, and any intoxicating meaning was something the viewer injected into it.  

And thus, Alina’s revelation.  Alina’s theme is “Alina’s beauty” – both a rejection and an embrace of that objectification.  Now, Alina has declared that her art loudly and unabashedly about herself, viewer projection be damned.  And yet, at the same time, since “Alina” is what viewers are obsessed with seeing, then Alina will give them exactly what they want…

An Artistic Failure?

So then why does Alina consider her final art to be a failure?  It fits well within the theme of “Alina’s beauty.”   Indeed, her later works like “Humanity’s Implicit Reward” and even her swimsuit are arguably just softer variations of the “Alina’s body as forbidden yet alluring object for the viewer to consume” idea that is present here.

This suicide also seems to fit into the “life and death” motifs she has.  It’s a twisted kind of resurrection - effectively, she’s killing herself as a human in order to live on eternally as a memorable piece of art.

Alina plans her final work directly because she thinks she’s dying as a creator.  Rather than face her brilliance fading, she chooses to defy it by going out in a blaze of glory.  And when put that way, it’s an exciting and fitting conclusion.  

There’s just one little problem with that narrative...

While drifting between life and death, Alina realizes the critic was wrong.  She had a theme all along.  Alina’s brilliance wasn’t fading.

And thus, since she wasn’t a “dying artist,” her “going out in a blaze of glory” no longer holds any profound meaning.  She’s just a silly teenager who got too worked up over a harsh letter.

The overall concept behind Alina’s last work wasn’t the issue.  The failure was in the timing and execution, killing herself before such a thing had meaning and in a way such that her body would be found.

And so, I don’t think Alina has learned her lesson here.  I don’t think Karin’s words have gotten through to her yet.  If she concludes at a later point that her talent is truly is fading or that she’s lost her theme, I’d fully expect her to pull another suicidal stunt again.

Conclusion

So the good news: Alina lived!  She’ll have plenty more chances to create art and figure herself out!

But the bad news: Alina’s revelation implies she’s now even more reliant on her identity as a genius artist.  

And thus, like so many other characters, the end to Alina’s MGS isn’t really an ending. She hasn’t solved the problem at the heart of the crisis that led to her wish.  Becoming a magical girl and discovering witches does nothing to stop Alina from falling into another identity spiral, nor has she left her suicidal tendencies behind.

Alina found her theme, but she still hasn’t found herself.

Misc Details

Some other neat miscellaneous details that fit with this interpretation:

I’m glad the English translation keeps at least a little of the quirky way Alina refers to herself.  (That being said, in Japanese, it’s even more exaggerated - she doesn’t use normal first person pronouns at all, only using “Alina.” )

Because on the one hand, this is an obvious hint at her extreme narcissism: Alina’s sentences frequently emphasize her name.

On the other hand, it’s a great subtle detail to return to the theme of objectification.  To put it another way, Alina refers to herself in third-person.  That is, even when Alina is speaking about herself, she reflexively frames it from the point of view of another person.  Because Alina is constantly having other people’s perspectives forced onto her!

Also, it turns out the pattern of others projecting onto Alina is present in her witch as well!  “Old Dorothy” is a historical figure whose diaries have been analyzed by multiple different researchers.  Some of them came to the conclusion that Dorothy was definitely a witch, others came to the conclusion she was definitely a normal, upstanding member of her community.  The researchers got completely opposite results from the same exact diaries.  So therefore - did they truly care about learning what Dorothy was really like?  Or were they just out to prove their own theories?

(Two years in, Old Dorothy is even more fitting of a name.  Doroinu basically predicted the entire fan response to Alina.  Some people see her as an evil (w)itch, some people see her as a sympathetic figure - all from looking at the same text.

We’re even starting to see the “two sides” of Alina come up in the Main Story, with Karin’s subplot in Arc 2.)

Meanwhile, Old Dorothy’s form - a “paint tube” - carries both this “paint over with your perceptions” meaning while also suggesting the same story as Alina’s final piece in miniature.  

Unlike Izabel, Alina’s witch form isn’t that of an artist.  Because when Alina hits her lowest point of despair, she no longer considers herself to be an artist.  She believes the only value she has left is to become literal materials to create art.  

In other words, Old Dorothy is Alina turning herself into art again.  It’s just rainbow paint this time instead of red.

Last but not least: yes, I am absolutely aware of the irony of this essay.   Here I am rambling about how Alina’s story is all about her struggle to be herself while everyone seems determined to erase her in favor of their own projections – and yet  a good chunk of this interpretation is probably my projecting on her.   Whoops!

Still, even if you disagree with it, I hope this essay was interesting and maybe made you question some of your assumptions about Alina.  

Thanks for reading!

[aterriblethought]

Hi. My questions with the new Acid Town chapter:1)Is Reiji aware of his adulterous affair with Masatsugu? Does Masatsugu love Reiji romantically more than his wife or it is just out of sympathy and guilt for what happened to Reiji's sister and parents? 2)Does Hyoudou really understand Reiji's revenge?Can't he sympathize with Reiji and Masatsugu's revenge?3)Does Yukio develop romantic feelings for Hyoudou?Those flashbacks of him with Hyoudou from his childhood until present make him blush.

These are all excellent questions!

1) I'm not sure if Rei knows about Fumi or not but I assume it's not something Masatsugu is hiding. Masatsugu mentions playing a part, and most likely he only got married and had a son because that was expected of him as the next head of the Seidoukai. It definitely seems like Masatsugu has far and away more passion for Reiji than his wife. But it's always been unclear to me how much of that passion is romantic attraction and how much is guilt.

2) Hyoudou's only scratched the surface of Reiji's motives I think. Notice what was left out of Hyoudou's explanation of the situation to Kuroda and Handa. He barely mentions Hisako and it's unlikely Hyoudou knows about her affair with Doumoto. He probably also doesn't know that Doumoto slashed Reiji's eye. Plus, he doesn't mention any suspicion that Rei and Masatsugu are romantically involved. Handa suspects it, but even he doesn't imagine the attraction is mutual.

I think Hyoudou could probably sympathize a bit, and I did notice that he barely mentioned Yuki's father. He knows Masatsugu swore to Tsubaki to get revenge for Ryuu's death. Hyoudou also went to extraordinary lengths himself to try to recover Tsubaki and Yuki. What reason Hyoudou has to conceal this from his men, I have no idea. Remember he never told them that there was anything particularly special about Yuki. Handa still just thinks he's some punk that Hyoudou feels sorry for.

Will Hyoudou potentially side with Rei and Masatsugu against the Seidoukai if he knew the whole truth? I guess we'll see. My heart says no. Hyoudou is too much a man of honor and potentially would just go down with the ship.

3) I think a lot of people think blushing = attraction. I think as an asexual person I can't really comment on what Yuki's reactions mean. To sum up what I've said about this subject in the past, Yuki doesn't have the best track record with adults; since he was a kid, his relationships with them have been largely abusive and inappropriately sexual. As such he's been wary of trusting or getting close to adults. After everything he's learned, Hyoudou is his best shot at a father or having a close family member. He's someone that seems strong, dependable, and reliable. And he clearly cares about Yuki. These are things he's been desperately looking for in an adult ever since he lost his mother and I think that would be very attractive to Yuki. I also think his history of sexual abuse could potentially complicate things and conflate that yearning for love and acceptance with desire. But, we haven't seen any real indication that either of them are interested in pursuing a romantic or sexual relationship. So, it's all conjecture at this point.

Sorry if these answers are overly wordy. I think about these things a lot I guess.

[panharmonium]

Hey, do you ship merthur? I have conflicted feelings about it because Merlin does love Arthur but also their relationship is kinda shitty.

short answer: i do not

longer answer: i might not be the right person to ask about this, because i don’t really “ship” anything?  it’s not how i engage with fandom.  (disclaimer: this is not a value judgment of folks who do engage with fandom that way.  just an explanation of how my own brain works.)

extra long answer: under the cut, because i suppose it was only a matter of time before someone asked me about merlin/arthur, and i might as well put my entire response in one place so that next time, i can just link to it.

questions like this are a little tough for me to answer, because i am completely uninterested in romance as a premise.  if it’s not there, i don’t care.  if it is there, i often wish it weren’t, because it’s almost never developed in a way that lives up to my standards.  i don’t always mind if something contains romantic relationships (provided they’re written well), but i don’t want them to be the point of a story.  i honestly cannot think of anything less interesting to me than a story that has as its main plotline “x character falls in love with y character.”  for me, in my brain, it’s like, “okay...that’s it?  do you have anything else to say?”  there is literally nothing about that that i care about.

this can be a little difficult to navigate in fandom, because one of the oft-heard commendations of “fandom” is ‘gosh, fandom is so wonderful, we can watch the same two characters fall in love again and again and again in a million different scenarios!’  which is true, for the people who care about that sort of thing, but that’s not actually ‘fandom.’  that’s shipping.  and there’s nothing wrong with shipping, but shipping and fandom are not the same thing, and they’ve become so conflated that it can be very difficult to engage in the latter without being absolutely swamped by the former.

many times, for me, fandom can feel synonymous with shipping.  there was a post i reblogged recently whose tags described shipping as often feeling like a prerequisite to engaging with fandom, and that is often what it feels like to me, particularly in fandoms where one ship is so ubiquitous that any and all other material is utterly dwarfed by it in scale.  (for me, my last two major fandoms have been merlin and teen wolf, so - i’m sure you see my dilemma, heh.)

all of that said, in terms of arthur and merlin specifically...

disclaimer: everything i say here is relevant to me only.  these are my own feelings.  i am making this post on my own blog, in my own space, in response to a question about my own thoughts.  i do not want, expect, or need anyone else to share these thoughts.  any commentary i make about fandom trends is not equivalent to condemnations of individual people’s opinions or shipping habits.  i do not mind or take issue with folks who ship these two characters.  i am glad you are having fun.  please do not @ me about something you disagree with.  i promise you it is not necessary.

okay.  with that out of the way.  

part of me is reluctant to expound further on this question, because my personal philosophy is that merlin and arthur as a ship have had more than enough time and space devoted to them in this fandom (way more than their share, frankly) and i generally prefer to focus on merlin and the other people in his life, as a deliberate counter to that.  but, since you asked, and because i have been experiencing the “i’m tired of romance” bug more strongly lately, here is the long-form version.

the number one reason why i don’t ship arthur and merlin is what i already outlined above: i don’t really “ship” anything.  i have never looked at two characters who were not already together/on an obvious potential path to being together and said “i want them to fall in love.”  that has just never happened to me.  (again - it’s not a BAD thing to have this happen, it’s just not something that’s ever happened to me.  i can’t relate to the experience.)

therefore, when i do appreciate a romantic relationship, it’s pretty much always because canon has shown me something romantic (or clearly pre-romantic) that i find to be well-written and compelling.  (it’s rare - as i outlined before, i would usually rather not deal with romance at all - but it happens.)  

arthur and merlin, then, never had that effect on me, because arthur and merlin, as depicted in the canon, are not in love.

[to anybody reading this who just snatched up their keyboard and started furiously typing, i beg you - please go back and re-read my disclaimer.]

they’re not in love.  the truth about these two is that if i had watched this show without having grown up in fandom as a culture (and without knowing exactly what kind of ships fandom immediately sees EVERYWHERE) the idea of anybody shipping these two together would never have even entered my mind.

(and like.  because i DID grow up in fandom, and i DO know exactly what kind of ships fandom sees everywhere, i knew before i even started this show that arthur/merlin was going to be an inescapable thing.  but that would not have been the case, if i had watched the series in a world where i didn’t know what fandom was.)

arthur and merlin, in canon, are not in love.  the show never does anything to give me an inkling that either of them are harboring romantic feelings for each other.  that is never what is happening onscreen.  literally the last thing on merlin’s agenda is romantic attachment, ever, and arthur is never, ever shown to be in love with anyone who isn’t gwen.  the show, onscreen, never tricks me, teases me, or leads me on.  i was never under the impression that merlin and arthur were in love with each other, because they weren’t.

but that DOES NOT MEAN their relationship matters less.  just because they aren’t IN love with each other doesn’t mean they don’t love each other, and one of those things is not bigger or better or more powerful than the other.

i struggle a lot in fandom (all fandom, not just merlin) with the persistent idea that romantic attachment is the peak, the natural endpoint on a scale of “how deep is your love?”  i am constantly running up against posts where the commonly accepted structure is to cite a moment of devotion or caring or some instance of basic connection between two characters, and then add a caption or tag saying ‘because they are JUST FRIENDS, right?’ or ‘^^totally platonic interaction between characters who are not at all in love, sure jan.’  

and honestly?  i hate that.  that is one of my least favorite things about fandom.  it makes me so tired.  

i am completely disconnected from this idea that there are like...things you can do that are too caring to count as friendship.  like - that there is too much devotion you can show, and if you go over the limit, then it’s laughable that you would do those things for “just” a friend.  that’s so unpleasant to me.

(and i do think [when it comes to non-canon queer ships, anyway - straight ships unfortunately have no excuse, sorry y’all] that part of this probably has its roots in pushback at the tendency of people who try to “gal pal” actual queer ships (or literal real life relationships), so this, at least, is something i can understand.  i’m queer myself; i get that.  and that is why i will never like - attach myself to someone’s post and start complaining.  people can vent however they want.)

it doesn’t change my own feelings, though.  i hate seeing every meaningful friendship i’ve ever been invested in talked about like it’s just a romance in disguise.

other things: i am uninterested in romance as a motivator.  

truly, from the bottom of my heart, i don’t care.

we are, at least in my corner of the world, oversaturated with romance, to the point where any piece of media that doesn’t include it in some fashion is shockingly bizarre.  it is EVERYWHERE.  it is in EVERYTHING.  i cannot pick up a book without running into a romantic plotline.  i cannot watch a movie or a tv show without being forced into multiple romances that i don’t care about.  (rare exceptions apply, as always, but i’m speaking generally.)

this oversaturation, for me, means that romance as a storyline no longer holds any meaning for me.  i see it EVERYWHERE.  it is in literally EVERYTHING.  making merlin into a “love story,” for me, makes the show so much less interesting, because there are billions of love stories out there.  love stories are practically the only kind of story our media remembers how to tell!  why would i take a story that is so unique in its exploration of deep friendship (that isn’t even quite friendship, because it’s not real, but merlin wants it to be real, but making it real would also destroy it) and loyalty (that isn’t necessarily deserved, but is still offered, but is damaging to the person offering it) and love (that exists in spite of arthur’s position as the oppressor, but still cannot erase merlin’s oppression, and is patently not a magical fix for the very real problems merlin is facing), and then want to water it down to “and then they fell in love”???

merlin bbc has so much to say about the transformative, redemptive power of love (not just romance), and the bonds we form with each other despite the fact that we don’t always deserve each other, and what we can do to make ourselves better, and how do we make amends for the ways in which we hurt the people we care about, and it is so complicated and there is so much beauty there and i adore it specifically because it is one of the rare pieces of media out there that doesn’t prop up romantic love as the most important and powerful force in the universe.  romantic love is not what moves the story.  merlin’s love for the people around him is based on compassion.  it’s bigger than the familiar and overused ‘i am desperately in love with this one individual person and that’s what drives my actions,” which is a premise all of us know has been done to death.  merlin’s love is not about romantic attachment.  it’s a deep, abiding love for humanity.  it’s based on hope, and faith, and the inherent belief that everybody matters, even in their worst moments.

condensing that kind of story into “and then they fell in love” erases its meaning for me.  it makes it trite.  uninteresting.  i have seen “and then they fell in love” fully sixty thousand times.  “and then they fell in love” has been done so often that it is utterly devoid of power for me.  boring.   i literally do not care.

other people might feel differently, and find a romantic love story compelling.  i don’t.  

i’m guessing the message that prompted this essay is asking me to evaluate how i feel about the “goodness” of the merlin/arthur ship, aka whether it’s worthwhile to ship it or not based on how healthy/unhealthy it is, which i definitely can’t answer, because i don’t think whether it’s “good” or not really matters.  i am definitely too old to be riding the newer wave of, uh...idk, purity culture type stuff that is so oft-debated on here, lately.

but you’re absolutely right, anon - merlin and arthur’s relationship IS kinda shitty!  it 100% is.  it doesn’t mean you can’t ship them, though, if you want; otherwise i wouldn’t be invested in any aspect of their friendship, either.  

the fact that merlin and arthur’s relationship is kinda shitty is an essential element of the show; it’s the microcosmic representation of the macrocosmic problem merlin is trying to solve, and even with that being the case, we can see clearly that this also doesn’t preclude them from having real moments of connection and care and love.  this is the contradiction i have to keep in mind whenever i engage with them in the friendship sense - merlin has been wronged by arthur in so many ways, and yet he still loves him and believes arthur can do better, and yet his dedication to arthur really does destroy his life piece by piece, and you really have to walk a line between those extremes and be thinking: in what ways was this a noble, honorable path for merlin to take and in what ways was this damaging, and was it all worth it in the end?

we probably wouldn’t still be watching this show if we didn’t ultimately think the answer to that last question was yes.  but there are also equally valid ways in which the answer is, truthfully, no, and i think really the only important thing when dealing with merlin and arthur’s relationship (in whatever capacity you prefer) is to keep that dissonance in mind.

so, to more directly address your question, when it comes to my interaction with the source material, i don’t ship merlin and arthur romantically because i don’t see romance when they interact in canon, and i don’t think their relationship could be improved or made more interesting/more meaningful by adding extra-canonical romance into the mix.  that’s really it.

but the other side of things is this: even if i were granted someone else’s ship-goggles to somehow see romance between these two (eg, once, in the distant past i read a harry potter fic that was so well-constructed it sold me on a relationship i didn’t [and still don’t] actually see in canon), i still wouldn’t choose to ship merlin and arthur, and it’s not because they’re a “bad” ship (no such thing, folks - tag your stuff and let people live their lives, thank you), it’s because this fandom has already been swallowed by them and i cannot bring myself to make that imbalance worse.

trying to be in the merlin fandom without shipping merlin and arthur is just...a little bit difficult sometimes.  i think probably even people who do ship merlin/arthur are aware of that.  sometimes it can feel like merlin/arthur is a given in this fandom, not one of many options - as if you’re not in the merlin fandom, but rather the merthur fandom, and you know you really, really do not belong there.

and it’s not even a canonical ship!  it’s not even real.  and yet if you like this show, and you want to engage in the fandom, your experience is, without exception, going to be chock full of merlin/arthur content by default.

essentially, my struggle with the merlin/arthur dynamic in fandom is two-fold:

1) the strikingly imbalanced content distribution

the merlin fandom, in terms of content distribution, is a pretty accurate mirror of merlin’s own existence, to be honest, in that pretty much every aspect of it is eventually taken over by arthur pendragon, and in that there’s a reasonable debate to be had about whether or not that’s a good thing.

(spoiler alert: it’s not.)

even so, it is what it is, and as i said before, me commenting on fandom trends is not meant as a condemnation of individual preferences.  people like what they like!  that’s just how things are.  shipping arthur and merlin isn’t a Bad thing to do, by any means, and the fact that so many people do is just, you know, bad luck for me, lol.  but at the same time, the wildly unbalanced distribution of content does make it more difficult for folks who don’t ship merlin/arthur to engage in fandom with quite the same level of ease, and even though it’s nobody’s fault, it is still perfectly reasonable for people who don’t ship merlin/arthur to be frustrated about that.

fanfic is a pretty good case study for how this plays out.  i saw a post a while back that was titled something like ‘merlin bbc gothic,’ and the first bullet point was “canon ships are rarepairs,” and HOO BOY, that is true.  stats-wise, merlin/arthur makes up ⅔ of the merlin fic on AO3.  ~25,000 fics.  the next most popular tag after merlin/arthur is arthur/gwen, but arthur/gwen have ~2,900 fics in their tag.  and when you remember to exclude any instance of merlin/arthur from the arthur/gwen tag, that number drops by another thousand, to ~1,940.

that’s buckwild.  come on.  merlin/arthur has twenty-three THOUSAND more fics than the next most popular (and CANONICAL, i might add) ship?  and every other ship’s numbers are even lower than that?*

and if you don’t want to read shippy stuff in the first place, like me - the merlin “gen” tag has less than 8000 fics in it, by comparison, and then you STILL have to filter merlin/arthur out of the gen fics, leaving you with about 6300 - which number has to be filtered down further to remove OTHER ships that still make it past the gen filter.

in comparison to 25,000.

like.  i’ve been in fandom long enough that i’m not surprised - mean, i came into merlin directly off a teen wolf phase, and boy, that’s a whole other bowl of noodles right there, with added squick factors that are irrelevant here - but i’m still just...man. 

it still makes my head spin.  and it is still frustrating, every time.

*(there is a lot more to be said about how gwen fits into all of this, and i know it has been discussed more thoroughly in other places, but yes, another reason i am leery of arthur/merlin as a thing is that i’m just...not super comfortable with what that implies for gwen and her position in the story.  even if i personally am slightly more compelled by gwen/lancelot, technically - i still don’t quite feel comfortable taking gwen out of her canonical place.  she belongs at the top.  she deserves to be the love interest and she deserves to be the queen.  and like - people can say that her relationship with arthur isn’t “developed” or “convincing” enough to warrant retaining in fic, and i get it, the show really did fail gwen in S5 - but i still don’t buy that argument.  people literally INVENTED a romantic relationship for themselves and put 25,000 fics worth of effort into building it up; there is no reason why an “underdeveloped” canon romance couldn’t have gotten the same treatment.  except, of course, for the fact that one [Black, female] character was being shoved aside to make way for yet another two white dudes.)

(and i’m not saying that everyone is doing this deliberately or maliciously.  but we all know this is a cross-fandom trend.  there is literally no reason for the gap in content to be THAT wide.  a canon relationship with twenty-three thousand fewer fics than an invented ship?  just...that is a stat that bears thinking about.  it doesn’t mean that merlin/arthur is a “bad” ship, or that you can’t prefer lancelot/gwen, but it IS still important to recognize these patterns where they occur, across fandoms, and to really think about what they mean.)

2) the arthur-goggles

my second struggle with merlin/arthur in fandom is the ubiquitousness of the arthur-goggles, aka: the tendency in fandom, as in canon, to make everything in merlin’s life about arthur, and everything in the show about merthur.

this one specifically really gets to me.  i am very committed to the idea that merlin is a complete individual, whether arthur is there or not.  i write a LOT of meta about merlin being a whole person, specifically pushing back on the idea that merlin was “born” for arthur’s benefit - my motto is basically that “merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon,” and the way his life begins to revolve around arthur pendragon in later seasons is not in fact touching or romantic or beautiful; it’s a tragedy.  merlin does not exist only in the context of his relationship with arthur; he possesses worth outside of his mission to save the prince of camelot, and he was already a complete person before he ever met the prince of camelot, and one of the many issues we have to think about when dealing with arthur and merlin in any capacity is how merlin is told from the get-go that he is supposed to devote his whole life to arthur, but arthur is never given any such reciprocal responsibility.  

merlin and arthur’s relationship, just like the distribution of content in this fandom, is wildly imbalanced.  merlin spends all of his spare time thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person.  he is constantly working to keep arthur safe and happy.  but arthur, at the end of a long day, doesn’t spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life.  he just goes home and goes to bed.  he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’  he is never told his life isn’t his own, that he is supposed to be one half of some two-sided coin.  only merlin is told that his entire existence is earmarked for someone else, that his life’s purpose is to be someone else’s better half.  only merlin is expected to devote his entire being to someone else’s betterment.  only merlin is expected to say demeaning, self-abnegating things like “i was born to serve you.”  

arthur, by contrast, is allowed to have a life of his own.  he is allowed to exist on his own terms.  he is never told that his worth is dependent on how well he can prop someone else up.  and while fic might like to imagine merlin being the most important thing in arthur’s life, in canon that is just not the case.  

merlin exists on his own merits, and the idea that he does everything he does just because “he’s in love with arthur” will never sit right with me, because it’s simply not true.  merlin and arthur’s relationship is important to both of them, yes, and of course it is undergirded by deep love and care, but it is also way more complicated than that.  merlin’s investment in arthur’s life - and his grief at arthur’s death - are NOT solely driven by his love for arthur as an individual; they are inextricably bound up with a sense of obligation and duty and self-worth and, eventually, failure, because he’s been told that protecting arthur is a) the only thing that matters about his own life and b) the only way to free his people and save an entire kingdom.  and i think ignoring this very real complexity in favor of “merlin does what he does and feels what he feels because he’s in love with arthur” cheapens the depth of the story and flattens merlin’s character.

arthur-goggles automatically make everything about merlin/arthur, though.  so the difficulty, for me, with merlin/arthur as a ship, is that it can be hard to make/find things about merlin that people don’t instantly, always try to link back to arthur in some way.  merlin is not allowed to have things that are just his, and he can’t exist in a state where arthur doesn’t somehow factor in - no matter how unrelated to arthur something is, or how non-shippy it’s meant to be - there’s someone out there who’s going to loop it back to merthur in some way.

just like - scattered examples of things I’ve encountered:

all of merlin’s non-arthur love interests on AO3 having massive chunks of their ship tags actually being merthur fics, with the non-arthur ship serving solely as a stepping stone on the way to getting merlin and arthur together

readers, on fics that are specifically designated as focusing on merlin+someone else and in which arthur does not appear, leaving comments asking “so how long until arthur shows up,” “can’t wait to see arthur,” etc

meta about how ‘merlin’s time in camelot was actually really bad for him as a person’ being reblogged and modified by someone else with an addition like “but merlin doesn’t regret a second of it because he wouldn’t have known arthur if he were anywhere else,” and the OP having to reblog their own post and explain that this is literally the exact problem they were trying to critique

in fic, merlin’s friends being utilized only as vessels with whom he can have discussions about his developing relationship with arthur

etc etc

it’s not always huge egregious things, but wearing arthur-goggles means EVERYTHING comes back to merthur in some way, which for me is just...really insulting to other characters, and really limiting in terms of story analysis.  

so, for example - this is a VERY specific example that few will relate to, because i am probably the only person on here who has ever tried to search the tag for merlin’s friend will from ealdor (a niche fave of mine) - but with him, especially, it is very hard to avoid bumping into a lot of people wearing arthur-goggles, because everybody seems to imagine him as merlin’s ex, who is only upset about what’s going on in 1.10 because he’s jealous about arthur appearing alongside merlin, never mind that will and merlin have known each other since birth and have a relationship that LITERALLY predates arthur by two decades.

so with him, as an example - the other day, i saw some post in the tag that was like “will gets teary when arthur makes his inspirational speech in ealdor because he finally understands what merlin sees in arthur and he can’t be mad anymore”

and that is just patently untrue.  it is not even remotely close to a legitimate interpretation of what is happening in that scene.  will hasn’t come around to arthur’s way of thinking yet; he literally still packs his things and leaves after this happens, and he is - i mean, first of all, he’s not crying, lol, and he stalks out of that scene weary, angry, and fed up, because he thinks the village is delusional and all of his neighbors are going to get killed in the morning.  his arc - his dissatisfaction with what is going on, his anger at the ignorance arthur wields as a nobleman with all of that wealth and privilege, his resistance to the big “let’s fight kanen’s men with sticks” plan - that is about him and his history and who he is.  it is not about an (imaginary) merlin/arthur love story.  

but when the arthur-goggles are on, all roads lead to merthur.  even when the other characters in question (*coughWILLIAMcough*) would be beyond mortified to have merthur, of all things, assigned as their motivation.

SO.  now that i’ve gone over both the canon and fandom aspects of my reasoning, the succinct summary in response to your question is just that no, i don’t personally ship merlin/arthur.  because:

a) i don’t see it b) the fandom is already trying to drown me with it and i choose to center other characters out of spite c) i just think merlin deserves better lol

however, as i said in my disclaimer - that doesn’t mean other people shouldn’t ship and enjoy it!   merlin/arthur is very much not my cup of tea, but that’s no reason why other folks can’t have fun with it.  i think the best portrayals of it, probably, will be those that keep in mind exactly what you said - that merlin and arthur’s relationship is “kinda shitty” - but this is fandom, so if what folks really want to write is just lots of happy AU’s with no issues, then they should go for it!  the point of fandom is to have fun connecting with people over a shared love of something, so i am happy to let others have fun doing their thing, and i will just be over here doing mine. 🙂

[awesomethingsandsuch]

What the Master explicitly says to explain his motivations:

“The history between us does mean something. It’s the rage and pain in my hearts”

“Everything I am is somehow because of you and I can’t bear that”

“You always acted like you were special and you were”

Now, while there may be a kernel of truth to these statements, I think the fact that he’s willing to say them makes it clear they aren’t the whole truth. 

Now, the one time I think he’s being honest is when he says “I hope it hurts because it really hurt me.”

So there’s really 2 questions that appear here: 

What is his real motivation for all his behavior in the season when it comes to Gallifrey?

Why does he want the doctor to hurt like he hurts?

(and I think we as an audience keep conflating these two things when his actions against gallifrey and his actions against the doctor are two separate things)

I don’t think you can really answer the second question without answering the first, and the first is really hard to pin down because he’s never going to be honest with probably even himself about it. 

My personal reading is that he’s mainly angry at Gallifrey because 1) the same people who tortured and abused him like he was worthless also did it to the only person I think he’s ever loved (besides his daughter) and 2) the truth of the Timeless child opened up a chasm between him and the doctor, distancing him from her in a way that is unbearable to him. 

Which would then lead me to believe that he is so desperate to hurt the doctor (because, honestly his anger at gallifrey didn’t have to extend to the doctor and by all accounts, really shouldn’t) is because he NEEDS that chasm to be as painful to her as it is to him. He NEEDS her to suffer and grieve over the “lie” of their connection/history to the same level he is. 

Of course, the problem here is that the Doctor would not feel that grief because to her being the Timeless Child wouldn’t matter to the authenticity of their history and relationship because she’s not the one who will be left behind and forgotten. To her, their friendship (and enmity) are all still as real as they ever were. If he were more open about his real feelings in light of discovering the truth, it would allow her to view the situation from his point of view and realize how painful it would be to think you’re just a blip in a person’s life, especially when that person means everything to you and your identity. 

But he’s too unstable to be honest with himself or her or communicate in any clear way, and he worked against himself by putting her in a position where the response he really wanted from her she was unable to give because she was reeling from the truth and his inexplicable anger towards her.

[therealvagabird]

The Days of Clay - Pt. 2: Beasts, Peoples, and Class Concepts

Part 2 of my paleo/neolithic RPG setting concept. Here are the concept overviews for the more “living” aspects of the world.

You can read the full setting rundown all at once on my WordPress.

Feel free to a leave a comment, and share!

Saurians

Found throughout the tropical and otherwise hot regions of the world, from searing deserts to sweltering jungles, saurians are a common form of fauna across the equatorial continents. Though most saurians are quite similar to all other animals – skittish, of varying size, and uninclined to hunt humans save under ideal circumstances – the great Thunder Lizards are well feared, and stories of them are known the world over in tales of dragons and other great wyrms. Saurians are cold blooded and include such species as the tyrannosaur, the carnotaur, velociraptor, and oviraptor as prominent therosaurs. There are also the mighty thagosaurs, the ceratops, brachiosaurs, and diplodosaurs as among the grandest of the Thunder Lizards. The hunting of these beasts outstrips even the danger of hunting Great Mammals like the mammoth, though that has not stopped some of the most fearsome warrior-tribes from attempting and succeeded at such feats. Tales of the taming of Thunder Lizards are also common, though even less substantiated. Not that factuality matter more than a good story to most shamans and their listeners.

Ape-Men

Ape-Men comprise all those varieties of bipedal or mostly-bipedal humanoid creatures who straddle the line between ape or monkey and man. Those who live in areas where there are no ape-men to be found might think that the distinction between an ape-man and a monkey, or an ape-man and a rather blunt and hairy person might be indistinguishable. Those who have ever seen an ape-man know the uncanny appearance by which those creatures can be identified. Though some believe that the ape-men are just as intelligent as humans, they have no language, no writing, and use but the most primitive of technologies. Some are quite small, while larger breeds can also be found, even in high altitudes and frigid environs. Most ape-men tend to cluster in basic den formations, and though they will not craft tools or shelters, they are sometimes smart enough to set up basic lean-tos, making use of existing caves or other helpful geography, and may pick up and utilize bones and rocks as basic weapons and the like. Though not very violent by nature, ape-men tend to compete for similar habitats as humans, and so often come into conflict with them. Ape-men clans who have lost great numbers to humans before tend to avoid all future confrontations even generations later.

Lizardmen

Similar to ape-men, lizardmen are the various breeds of bipedal, dexterous lizards who can sometimes be found in the territories of other saurian species. Little is known about how they differ from other scaled creatures save for their intelligence. Like ape-men, despite not having any known language or culture, the lizardmen have shown some ability to use tools, and tend to cluster in social groupings. Many of these dens are found in places most humans know as “Shatterlands” – angular rock formations common in deserts and some jungles, which various lizardmen of different species seem to all gravitate towards as ideal homesteads, even displacing other saurians in the process. Lizardmen range from the great crocolids and saurids to the more diminutive skinks and kobolds. They are uncommon outside of their usual ranges, and some say they are even dying off little by little.

Great Mammals

Found throughout the world, though most of all within the great tundra of northern lands like Batyr, Siral’ik, or Dziil, there are those creatures known as the Great Mammals. Also known as Great Beasts or Great Hairy Ones, these are the mammalian creatures who nonetheless rival the largest saurians in size and power. Mammoths, shellbacks, giant sloths, sabercats, dire wolves and dire bears – these are a source of both great danger and great plenty to those tribes who share their lands. Some Great Mammals may be found in southern reaches, such as with the giant ape-kin, or the elephants, giraffes, and the like which wander the savannahs of Noba Rugna. It is uncommon for saurians and Great Mammals to share habitats, though the bloodletting when the two come into contact can be significant and godlike.

Great Coldbloods

Separate from the saurians, Great Coldbloods is a catch-all term for creatures such as the giant snakes, colossal toads, and other creatures which do not share the same general markers of “true saurians” like the therosaurs, brachiosaurs, or ceratops. Though the distinction is rather vague, it is important to tribal peoples who live in southern lands, as Great Coldbloods tend to not be as aggressive and predatory as saurians – they are no less dangerous, but they prefer to stick to their well-defined hunting and ambushing grounds. Some Great Coldbloods are significant enough to take on and fell saurians in their own right, and command just as much fear as any other terrifying predator.

Great Shellhides

Perhaps the broadest category by which the human tribes of the world define the largest types of various animals, Great Shellhides comprise all those cold-blooded, hard-skinned, and boneless creatures which crawl beneath the earth. Though most “bugs” are insignificant things perhaps defined by powerful poisons to compensate for their size at the deadliest, Great Shellhides are monstrosities able to go claw-to-claw against other Thunder Beasts and Great Fauna. Hellspinners, elephant beetles, stoneborers, sand-devils – though some can be quite docile despite their size, most pose significant threats to any humans who dare to trifle with them. Within the seas there are also the giant crabs, temple clams, and devil-lobsters, among others. Though most hunters would not dare attempt to assault any Great Shellhide due to their impervious armor and the terrible ways they are capable of killing, the promise of tender blue-meat and a rich supply of chitin for crafting means that to many, the risk is worth the reward.

Leviathans

Encompassing all those beings which make sailors quail at the mere mention of their names, there are the seabound leviathans. Leviathans are not a single species, nor even a clade, but rather a term for any aquatic monster which is defined by its immense size. Whales are often considered leviathans, along with the great sharks such as the megalodon. More terrible are the leviasaurs – mosasaurs and ichthyosaurs and the like. Kraken, or the god-squids, are another class much feared by all who know of them, as well as the sea-serpents and dragon-turtles. Despite their fearsome reputation, most leviathans pose no great threat to humans, confined as they are to the abyssal sea. It is more common for even the bravest of seafaring tribes to meet their end by exposure or storms than by the direct attack of a leviathan, though that is seldom comforting to most sailors. The hunting of leviathans is considered by many to be the penultimate feat of prowess – to slay something as large and terrible as a Thunder Lizard, yet within their own element.

Giants

Sometimes conflated with ape-men, giants are among the rarest of all the near-human species. Defined as massive humanoids, tending to display blunted manlike features and standing anywhere from over two to five times the height of an adult human. Giants are usually found in reclusive dens, or solo, in the wilder areas of wherever humans might be found. The very largest are confined to the north and far east, in the most remote reaches of lands like Fjallgarth and Siral’ik. Little is known of giants, save for their prodigious size, ferocity when challenged, and rather hideous appearances. Much like ape-men, lizardmen, or parcies, they seem to have no higher culture, yet maintain a level of intelligence above most base animals. They may use fallen trees or great stones as makeshift tools, and some have even been said to herd Great Mammals, though it is unknown if there are any truth to these stories, or if the giants merely hunt such beasts. Most giants prefer to avoid humans when they can, unless in a desperate or vengeful position, as it is a common feat of strength for warriors of the northern lands to seek out and slay giants when they can.

Parcies

Pronounced “park-ees” and often referred to as “little folk”, “sprites”, “gremlins”, and numerous other regional names. Parcies are a strange class of creatures believed to be offshoots of humans or ape-men. Though there are many different breeds of parcie, they are often defined by short stature, and intelligence somewhere between humans and beasts. Humans born with conditions such as dwarfism may be confused with or referred to as parcies, but it is known to most who have encountered the little folk that they comprise their own group of species altogether. Most parcies are shrouded in mystery, living far away from humans, and maybe engaging in clandestine theft if they need to. Kidnappings, misfortunes, and other ills are sometimes attributed to parcies, though good luck and positive happenstances may also be called the work of parcies. While most are reclusive and nonviolent, they have been known to attack humans if threatened. Taking inspiration from certain parcie stories, some humans have even “tamed” parcies as servants or pets when they can. Notable breeds of parcies include brownies, gremlins, tomtens, dzedka, memegwesi, memegwaans, and nimerigar, A singular parcie can also be called a parca.

Humans:

Wisewalkers

Most humans throughout the world are of the breed known as “wisewalkers”. Though there are just the most minimal of differences between the different human subtypes – beyond even more tertiary traits such as skin color, cultural inclinations, or habitat – some distinct traits can be identified. Wisewalkers tend towards being the least hirsute of the human breeds, and the most inventive. The grander settlements of human make have oft been the work of wisewalkers, and the technologies they have pioneered are impressive. Though not so strong or swift as their cousins, the mental acuity of the wisewalker breeds has seen them become the most prolific of all humans.

Hobblehands

Smaller than wisewalkers, hobblehands are known for their great agility and cleverness. Though they are not quite as inventive as their larger cousins, they are quick learners and were the first creators of many basic tools that the wisewalkers would later improve. Standing about three to four feet tall on average, hobblehands are named for their dexterous skills, making for great ambush-hunters and adept crafters of small implements. They tend towards darker or ruddy skin tones depending on region, with curly hair, and round-featured faces that some have said look halfway between an adult and a child – though not in the same way an adolescent’s does. Hobblehands can be distinguished from dwarves or parcies by their proportions, looking rather like full-grown humans of a smaller size. Most hobblehands tend to live within their own tribal communities, and though they are not often leaders of mixed societies, they are much appreciated as crafters by the wisewalker shamans.

Neanders

Large, muscled, and brutish in appearance, the neaders are the human breed most known as warriors and hunters. Stereotypes of their low intellects and blunt affect obscure a significant truth, however – that the neanders are just as sharp and clever as any human strain. Most often found in the north, neanders stand about the same height as wisewalkers, though tend to hunch and have an overall more apelike physique. Besides these differences in build, they are the closest to the wisewalkers in terms of overall appearance. They possess greater strength than wisewalkers, and significant stamina. However, though they have displayed no less cleverness than their cousins, they seem to lack a certain degree of inventive spark. Neander tribes – perhaps due to their skill at hunting – tend to eschew higher technologies if they feel they have no need of them. Sometimes battling their wisewalker neighbors, many neander tribes have been brought into the fold of larger wisewalker gatherings for their might and skill.

Wildlings

A class of humans who straddle the line between true humans and ape-men, wildlings far exceed the strength of the neanders and the agility of the hobblehands – yet unlike those two sub-species, they are marked by a noticeable lack of higher cleverness. Though still capable of tool crafting and the basics of human civilization, wildlings are not very inventive, and prone towards blunt solutions even when it might not be in their best interests. They prefer the wilds from which they take their name, eschewing large gatherings in favor of tight-knit tribes. The most physically adept of all humankind, they tend to be feared and mocked by their cousins, though like the neanders they may be contracted as formidable warriors. As they are so skilled at survival, most wildlings are content in their primitive ways, wanting for nothing more than the bounty their own two hands can bring them. They are often hunched and quite hairy, with apelike visages, though otherwise human in appearance. Their most common roaming grounds are in the southern grasslands and forests, though they may also be found anywhere in the deep wilds that they have staked out for hunting and foraging, from the frozen north to the burning south.

Class Concepts:

Magic is nonexistent in the known world, but that does not mean that mysticism and superstition are absent. Neither does it mean that these belief systems are without merit or use. Shamans, witch doctors, prophets – these are individuals who act as storytellers, leaders, and the glue which holds entire tribes and even emerging states together. Many possess skills of great importance, not bound to one cultural context, such as knowledge of herbs and natural substances, knowledge of crafting and building, or an uncanny memory for the behaviors of animals or the patterns in the weather. For some, belief is a powerful force in and of itself, with warriors and magicians able to work themselves into states of mania which help them endure beyond typical limits. A human can only do so much with their body, even at the strongest, but knowledge and faith are what set humanity apart from the other beasts.

Warrior

A versatile hunter of both men and beasts, able to specialize in various types of weaponry and combat-craft. Warriors, depending on tribal background or personal preference, may choose to focus heavily in certain talents, or diversify for the sake of adaptation. In some places, like the city-states of Sakha, warriors are free to spend more time mastering the arts of combat, given that they do not have to worry as much about base survival. Wilder types may not be as refined in their martial talents, but know the arts of hunting and foraging, or even translate knowledge of poisons and clever crafts into effective fighting supplements.

Shaman

The cornerstone of most tribes is the clan shaman – the priest, the healer, and the storyteller. Shamans, much like warriors, are as varied as the flowers of the field, or the birds of the sky. They blend concrete knowledge and skills with a flair for the dramatic, able to command great respect for their wisdom. Shaman may specialize in many fields, such as healing, inspiring their allies, lore of the wilds, and afflicting their foes with terror or poisons. Some shaman may hold combat knowledge, but for the most part these figures are noted for the stories they tell and the knowledge they keep rather than any outstanding physical abilities. Memorized lore of humans, beasts, plants, seasons, and more can all be utilized by a shaman in order to achieve their ends, whether that be leading their flock to prosperity, or leading their enemies to their doom. Though many think the skills of the shaman to be magic, most of the time trained wisdom and a perceptive nature is just as good.

Skinchanger

One art renowned and feared across the wide world is that of the skinchanger. Shamans who specialize in channeling the spirits of beasts, skinchangers may hone a number of abilities based upon their chosen spirit-animals. Skinchanging requires two physical components – a hide, and a mask. These shamans undergo extensive training in their youths to assume the mind of a given beast, studying their quarry for months and even years so as to learn what it is to be that animal. Then, they must slay that given beast and take its hide, as well as craft a mask from its remains. By donning these, the skinchanger enters a unique mania granting them the power of that beast. Though no real change comes over the individual, they are not to be trifled with. The pelt of a bear or a saurian is still a great armor, and when the person wearing it is bearing a set of claw-gloves and has worked themselves into a frenzy, even great warriors can succumb to terror. Other skinchangers may pursue less “direct” approaches, such as by donning armor made from the carapaces of creatures like the Hellspinners, stalking the high treetops, besides others. Skinchangers learn much by studying their given animals – of which they may have several, should they choose to carry several costumes – such as techniques for climbing, digging, using poisons, foraging, and hunting.

Berserker

Similar to the skinchanger is the berserker, who trains themself to enter a blood-frenzy during battle so as to shrug off injuries which would incapacitate other humans. Berserkers are defined by their great martial skill, and the means by which they enter their blood-frenzy. Some channel simple rage, while others call upon totem spirits or other shades to empower their bodies, and some make use of more literal bloodlust or even strange herbal concoctions. These warriors tend towards a very direct style of combat, favoring brute strength over more diverse or subtle means, yet berserkers tend to also be noted for the various skills they accrue in training their blood-frenzy. Berserkers may be quite knowledgeable in techniques of survival, or hunting, or herbalism as dependent on their backgrounds. For one to rely on strength alone is not enough, however mighty, and so berserkers tend to hide greater wisdom than meets the eye.

Boxer

Somewhere between a healer and a fighter, boxers are set apart from more typical warriors by their deep and intimate knowledge of the human body. Boxers are fighters who have received a degree of training as bonesetters, spiritual healers, or even chirurgeons. A boxer may in combat leverage this knowledge to target their enemy’s pressure points or vital organs, while out of combat they may apply the same techniques to their allies to alleviate pains or fix physical ailments. Boxers pay for their very specialized skillset by struggling in circumstances outside their training. They do not fare well against beasts lest they have knowledge of their anatomy and are not as able as dedicated healers to treat diverse illnesses. They do not do well in armor and may only competently use a set number of specific weapons. Still, the arts of the boxer are much respected by those who know of their reputations.

Beastmaster

The taming of wild animals is not an uncommon calling among certain tribes. Many warriors may hew closer to the path of the hunter, appreciating the company of a loyal hound or boar. Certain shamans may keep birds or other noble creatures as pets, believing them to grant good fortune, or training them to perform useful tasks. Skinchangers go a step further, and attempt to emulate and become as beasts. Beastmasters focus first and foremost on breaking the wills or otherwise earning the trust of wild animals of all stripes, allying themselves to the might of nature. These individuals are much more skilled at taming a larger variety of creatures than a typical hunter might, though even when they choose to simply use a dependable hunting-wolf, it is likely that their wolves will be better trained, and they will be able to command more of them at once. Some beastmasters end up taming great and fearsome beasts like saurians, great mammals, shellhides, and the like. They may even use such massive creatures as mounts. Others could specialize in directing much greater groups of smaller beasts. This could range from a small pack of hunting dogs, to entire swarms of vermin. If a beastmaster is able to safely forage and care for something like a wasps’ nest or a rodent warren-queen, they may even tame a whole horde of tiny pets.

Crafter

Creating things such as tools and shelter is a must-know skill for any human in the wide world, but for some it is more than a simple necessity. Some pursue the knowledge of material things the same way shamans pursue stories, or beastmasters and skinchangers pursue animal lore. Crafters specialize in creating items of exceptional make and identifying the uses of various materials. Bone, stone, wood, hide – even rare metals such as copper – all of these can be put to a multitude of uses by crafters, such as the making of weapons, tools, talismans, and more. Other crafters may specialize in larger projects, such as masonry, forestry, or boatbuilding. The downside is that crafters do not often make for good warriors or hunters and cannot be expected to do much more in combat than level their tools against the foe – though those tools are bound to be of exceptional make. Yet many bands of tribals do well to have one or more dedicated crafters among them, as just as they can put rare materials to good use, they are also quite adept at dismantling things. This can range from skinning a beast to chiseling a hole in the weak portion of a stone-brick fort. Likewise, groups with crafters always tend to accrue more loot, as crafters are skilled at pulling every last thing that could be of use from a fallen beast or a resource-rich area.

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

I’m posting a preview of the next chapter of Know The Love - Part II. This chapter is taking me longer to write than I anticipated, and I have a crazy busy week coming up at work, so it is looking less and less likely that I’ll have the full thing posed to Ao3 as soon as I would like. 

So, I thought I’d share the WIP to anyone who follows me on Tumblr, below the cut: 

Sansa relaxed into the hot, spring-fed bath, settling back until only her lips and nose breached the steamy surface. She closed her eyes, remembering.

Jon, what are you trying to tell me? That there's another secret Targaryen, vying for the Iron Throne?

(Not a trueborn Targaryen…)

Stars danced behind her lids.

(And he has no interest in ruling the Seven Kingdoms, I promise you.) What are you saying?

Slipping completely below the water, she let the weight of his secret pull her down.

(I keep telling you…I'm not a Stark. I'm not your brother, Sansa. Trueborn or half.) Stop, Jon. You're the very image of father. (It is not uncommon for a nephew to resemble his uncle.)

Days had passed since Jon's revelation, but her blood still pounded in her ears, hot and heady, like he'd only just told her. It had taken her a foolishly long time to understand what Jon was trying to say as she stared at him across his solar, her eyes flitting helplessly to Lord Reed, who only gazed back, stoic as ever.

(Lord Eddard was my uncle.) But you're too young to be Uncle Brandon's, and Uncle Benjen was too young to be a father…

Jon looked pained as understanding reached her at last. Her chest strained, painfully.

You're Lyanna's...Winter's rose. (Yes.) Stolen by the Dragon Prince. …and Rheagar Targaryen's… (Bastard.)

When he said it, she had been too thrown, too off balance to hear the loathing Jon bit into the word. The ground had shifted beneath her feet, the sky slanting so she was sliding down once more, drowning, and all she had the sense to ask, in a keening breathless voice, was, Who else knows?

"Sansa!" Her name came, muffled, through the water, but when hands disturbed the warm void, grasping at her arms, she woke from her reverie and resurfaced with a gasp. "For heavens sakes, Sansa! Are you trying to scare me witless! I'm already frantic over Theon's trial." She blinked into Jeyne's concerned, fire agate eyes, as rivulets raced down her brow and into her heavy lashes.

"Sorry Jeyne, I was only daydreaming," she sighed.

"I implore you, dream with your head above the water, please." Jeyne stood, shaking her head and frowning at her now soaking sleeves. "You're as bad as Arya used to be when we'd swim in the godswood. She'd challenge the other girls to try and hold their breath as long as she. Once, long after the others had given up, she floated to the surface, face down. When I turned her over, with tears burning my eyes, mind you, Ayra sprang to life, spouting water in my face, cackling like the Crone."

"I was just wetting my hair, not attempting a lark." Sansa squeezed her heavy locks, before twisting them together over the tub's edge, to dry.

"Be that as it may, you are not a fish, Sansa. You won't sprout gills beneath the surface if you stay down too long. You'll drown."

"Duly noted." She closed her eyes again, trying to recall her train of thought, but Jeyne continued prodding.

"Are you feeling well, my lady? You're flushed."

"Of course I'm flushed. I'm poaching in a steaming bath." Irritation seeped into her voice, and she glanced at her friend, contrite. Jeyne did not deserve her sullen mood. Theon's trial was only a few hours away, and Jeyne had stayed awake half the night, fretting over him. Now, she was fretting over Sansa.

"It's only, you haven't seemed entirely yourself, the past few days. You've been-"  Spinning like a top into oblivion? "-distracted."

When Sansa rose, Jeyne and one of her maids came to either side, wrapping her in a robe and helping her step from the copper tub. She laced her fingers through Jeyne's, relaxing her face into an easy smile. "I suppose I'm just tired. In the songs, they always leave out the verses where Jonquil spends her days mediating the lords' petty disputes or counting sacks of grain." Jeyne squeezed back.

"Well, when your Florian returns, you must beseech the king to appoint someone else to those duties. You and your knight will need time to reacquaint yourselves." She winked, playfully, and Sansa's belly dropped. She had no Florian; only an over-eager, impatient heir with more ambition than advantage, and a trail of ruined women behind him…and ahead. He was due back to Winterfell any day, after a decisive victory at the Dreadfort. Her stomach roiled at the thought, but she mustered a smile, nonetheless.

"Alas, the king works harder than us all. He does not deserve a princess who eschews her duties for any knight, especially while she is still wed to another."

Jeyne pushed her to her vanity, where her maids began to dress her. "Where is the romance in that, princess? Think on it. This may be your only chance for a true love affair." Sansa gaped at her friend, scandalized. "And wouldn't it be sweet, to be lovers first, before you are man and wife?" It would not be sweet. She'd had a glimpse at what an affair with Harry would entail, and she saw no appeal, with him.

"I must stay a maid, to annul my marriage to Tyrion," she reminded her friend, who only pursed her lips a moment, before responding.

"There are ways to take a lover and still preserve your maidenhead." Jeyne whispered, and Sansa marveled at the young woman's coy suggestion. After all she had endured, Jeyne had a spirit as hardy and irrepressible as the yellow yarrow that spread across the North in the summer, sprouting wherever the sun kissed the earth, from barrow to marsh, ditch to crag, no matter the quality of the soil or the quantity of rain. It stirred something within Sansa, and her cheeks burned at Jeyne's bold words. She pressed her eyes shut, but it was not the Young Falcon she imagined, standing before her. Grey eyes caught her. A kiss, searing and too brief, whispered across her lips.  See? What consumes you, devastates me too.

I'm not your brother, Sansa.

Her eyes snapped open. She was being foolish, to conflate the Jon she knew before with the Jon she knew now. The Jon who chased her smiling lips with his own down a dark corridor, and burned through her restraint over darker waters, was wooing a different woman. The Jon she knew now had only meant to convey essential information to the only family left to him.

Who else knows? (That lives? Myself. Howland. Now…you. Your father was the only other, as far as we know. Sansa, this is a dangerous secret. The kind that starts wars and kills thousands.)

As if she didn't understand. Only minutes before, the northern lords had packed Jon's solar, railing against two unknown Targaryens, half a world away. She knew how the North viewed the disgraced house. Madmen. Rapists. Inbred Dragonspawn. If they learned that their own king, already holding together a fragile kingdom, was the son of the man who had kidnapped and raped the beloved Lyanna Stark, sparking the flames that led to Brandon and Lord Rickard's deaths and a rebellion that changed the face of Westoros…why, they would turn on Jon like rabid dogs.

Then, why are you telling me? She had asked him, eyes flying again to Howland in desperation.

(No more secrets, remember? We promised.) He had looked at her with such intensity that she was forced to look away once more, imploring Lord Reed for assistance.

If anyone else finds out, you'll lose the North! She turned to Jon. You must remain Ned Stark's son. The lords will never back a Targaryen. The look in Jon's eyes was positively mutinous as his advisor nodded back at her, and she continued to shake her head, in horror.

(You think I don't know that! That's why I'm telling you. You, of all people should know whose claim you are actually backing. There is still time-) No! You are still a Stark. This changes nothing.

But it changed everything. She had fled Jon's solar a short time later, her thoughts too jumbled to handle more than an awkward pledge to keep his secret safe and a hasty word of gratitude that he had entrusted her with his true identity. Only now, after days of strained interactions, and painfully polite run-ins with the king, did she begin to understand. She had asked the wrong questions and offered only the weakest absolution. You are still a Stark. This changes nothing.

-----

Later, she observed him, from a distance, in the Great Hall, as the lords and ladies filtered in for the upcoming trials. The king stood apart, head bowed in discussion with Val, who had returned with the Ironmen held in Torrhen's Square. Though Sansa had never seen a Targaryen in the flesh, Jon had none of their oft-recited characteristics. In the dim light, his dark brown hair and grey eyes appeared as black as the cloak resting on his shoulders, his face as long and drawn as the stone kings of winter standing sentinel deep beneath their feet. It would be easier to believe Ned Dayne was a secret Targaryen, for whatever Prince Rheagar had left Jon, it was buried deep inside.

Now, questions burned at her lips. What really happened to Lyanna? How did Jon come to be raised by Howland Reed? And how long had he known the truth of his birth? And how did he feel about it? How did her father feel about it? And why had he not shared the secret with her mother? Perhaps, these were the questions she should have asked when Jon first told her the truth. Perhaps she should have asked them at any point in the past few days, when the revelation was new and her curiosity would be expected. But, whenever there was a moment where they found themselves alone, her body would rebel with unknowable emotion and her heart would beat in her like a caged bird in her chest, her tongue heavy and thick in her mouth, and she would flee the room before whatever was growing within her, had an opportunity to bloom.

"Princess, are you well?" She startled at Baelish's words, too close, before tilting her eyes away from Jon to the lord beside her.

"Quite, my lord. And you?"

"Quite. They make a stunning pair, do they not?"

"Hm?" She asked, distractedly as Baelish's lips twisted in a knowing smirk.

"Why the king and the wilding princess, of course. Were you not just watching them?" His eyes narrowed, and she flashed Jon and Val another glance, before smiling faintly back at the lord.

"I hadn't noticed where my eyes has settled. I was lost in thought, my lord."

"Hm. Well, still, my questions stands. Would not the wilding princess make a fine wife for your half-beast brother?"

"Half-beast?" She raised an eyebrow. "Be careful with your words, Lord Baelish. There are those that would take offence to you speaking of your king so." Her voice was mild, though, and his green eyes glinted slyly back at her.

"I meant no harm, my Princess. The north will need a fierce, beastly leader to keep its hard-fought independence. Eyes in King's Landing may be turned inward for now, but that cannot last forever…And you still evade my question. What do you think of my match?"

"Val is no princess and Jon has already more or less gained the wildings support. He needs a wife with more to offer."

"Ah. In that case, here comes another enticing option." Sansa followed Baelish's eyes to Lady Wynyfryd Manderly, gliding into the Great Hall in a gown of deep blue, offset by a string of rose pearls gracing her slender neck. She stopped before the king, falling into a graceful curtsy and Sansa watched Jon's eyes sweep down her form with a sour taste in her mouth. "As I understand it, the king in the North has still not fully won over his wealthiest, most well-connected lord. There can be no argument against the advantages in him marrying the Manderly maid."

Satin caught Sansa's eye across the hall, gesturing for her to take her place. "Excuse me, my lord, it looks like the trial will soon commence."

Before she could extricate herself, however, Baelish leaned close, whispering, "Careful little bird. He is your brother. Unnatural relations have toppled kingdoms more stable than his." She pulled away, her heart racing and legs weak.

I am not your brother, Sansa.

He should never have told her.  

----

She barely registered the accusations against Asha Greyjoy, Theon's sister, and the leader of the Ironborn who invaded Deepwood Motte and were defeated by Alyssane Mormont. Beside her, the king sat, just as in the previous trial, but this time his hand did not bridge the distance between them, nor did she reach out for him. Instead, she sat, staring out at the accused, yet seeing nothing. She was frightened. Littlefinger already watched them with suspicious eyes, and now she suspected Jon's secret was writ across her face every time she looked at the king. He should never have told her. It was hard enough to see him as her brother when she believed it to be true. Now, she didn't know how to meet his eyes.

She was snapped to attention when Asha Greyjoy was given a chance to answer to the charges against her.

"I'll take the black." She called out, with a wry smirk.

Sansa felt Jon's eyes light on her, but she stared straight ahead, so he responded. "There are no women in the Night's Watch."

"Well then, I choose freedom." The crowd chittered, and once again Jon tried to catch Sansa's eye before Asha continued. "I heard you let the Frey men, men who aided in raping women and mutilating children, choose the black, yet I, who simply held a castle that had been abandoned by its lord, and kept my men from harming a single hair on an innocent's head, am not afforded the same opportunity? Because I don't have a cock between my legs?"  Gasps from the crowd. "Where is the honor in that?"

"And if we banish you from the North, you'll only return one day to raid our lands again. It's a tired tale. The Ironborn's broken promises." Jon called.

"Well then. I suppose you'll have to take me as a thrall…though again, I thought the North was too honorable for an arrangement so close to slavery." Her tone was mocking, and Sansa looked closer at the Ironborn woman. She was lean and long legged, in black breeches, her short black hair, tied loosely at her neck, revealing a thin face and a hawkish nose, tempered by a wickedly impertinent grin. "I suppose you have only two options left, Wolf King. Take off my head or take me to bed."

Again, the crowd chittered, and Sansa burned. The Greyjoy captive was making a mockery of their justice.

"As fascinating as your offer is," Jon answered, "the wolf is not tempted by the squid." The crowd truly laughed this time, but he rose, cutting them off. "Asha Greyjoy, you are hereby fined five thousand gold dragons. Until which time the debt is paid in full, you are forbidden from leaving our lands. You are free to live and to earn your repayment by any lawful means, though if you should break our laws again, I will be taking your head."

The Hall stood silent now, and Sansa hazarded a glance in the king's direction. His face was calm but stern, and there was no uncertainty to find on his face. After a moment he nodded to Maege, who prodded her men-at-arms to action, cutting away the Greyjoy's wrist binds.

"And what of my men?" Asha asked, before she could be fully dismissed from the Hall.

"I suggest they choose the black," was all Jon offered before holding a hand out to Sansa. "Bring the other Greyjoy. We'll resume shortly." Sansa stood, and let herself be led into the privacy of the gallery.

"Are you well, my Princess?" He asked, as soon as the door closed behind them.

"What…yes, of course. Why does everyone keep asking me that?" She couldn't meet his eye. He was standing too close. She could feel herself flushing. Everything was flushing. She tried to step away, but his hand was at her elbow.

"You lie." He murmured, low, and why was she so warm? "It upsets you. That I'm not a Stark."

"You are a Stark." She snapped, still trying to pull away subtly, but he only led her closer to the checkered windows.

"Sansa," His words came out in an anguished flood. "My grandfather murdered your uncle and grandfather. My father raped your aunt. You have every right to be upset. I'll give up the crown. Just say the words and I'll make you queen. I'll leave the north. Just tell me what you want me to do." He didn't understand anything, and he was standing too close.

"Jon!" She hissed. "You are not my enemy. Your grandfather murdered your uncle and grandfather as well! Your father…" Why must he be so obtuse? "Lyanna Stark was your mother. You are a Stark, regardless of who your father was. I've already told you, this changes nothing. You are King in the North! I want you to be king." It felt like her veins were lifting from her body.

"Then why can't you look at me? Why do you flinch every time I draw near? You hate that I'm a Targaryen. Admit it. It is I who should be standing before you in the Great Hall, to answer for the crimes of my family." A shiver ran down her spine and she pulled away once more, trying to think of anything that wouldn't reveal her true thoughts.

"You are mistaken." She blinked up at him, trying to disprove his point, and it would be so much easier if he weren't looking at her like he was; like her words mattered, like her opinions mattered. And it would also be easier too, if he didn't have so much power over her, she admitted weakly to herself; if she didn't notice the breadth of his shoulders as he leaned closer, or the way his lashes seemed impossibly long around his smoky grey eyes.

[mbti-notes]

I have deep Ni-Ti loop and Ni-Se grip tendencies. I started learning to integrate healthy boundaries, but when expressed through a loop, their success dissolves when met with extreme external pressure--they were never fully integrated into my core. The pressure resurfaced repressed self-loathing. I hate myself because I want independence for Ni values, Fe secondary, but remain trapped despite new approaches. I don't know how to accept feeling incapable, since it's the foundation of my problems.

Do you have a question to ask? What you wrote is quite confused and misguided, which is basically what Ti loop sounds like. The “funny” thing about Ti loop is that infjs convince themselves that they’re trying to “stay true to myself” when, actually, what they’re trying to stay true to is their fake self-image. Imagine that you felt more safe and comfortable wearing a pretty mask in public, then you became so dependent on it that you wore it in private too, and you wore it so long that you eventually came to believe it was your true face. Then imagine how hard your life would be when every single encounter in the world threatened to unmask you and reveal to you the awful ugliness underneath. That is Ti loop, and fear keeps infjs highly motivated to guard themselves from perceived threats. You can’t accept feeling incapable because you are addicted to wearing the “mask of capability” despite the fact that it leads you toward self-destruction; the mask brings you an immediate but false sense of safety and esteem that you aren’t willing to relinquish.

You always have a choice to be your real self and present your real self to the world, but you fear your true face, because you’ve internalized the wrong value judgments and have thereby become your own worst critic. Would you say that people who are sick, disabled, or handicapped by circumstances beyond their control are totally worthless due to their incompetence? Your value system leads you to this conclusion. You have conflated your self-worth with mere competence. You have a misguided IDEA that you want to be a “capable” and “independent” person who never has to experience any negativity nor succumb to any influence. Why? Because all you see in yourself is someone who’s weak, stupid, and pathetic, and you don’t want to be that. You cling to the illusion that it’s possible for you to be perfect because you can’t face the painful truth that you aren’t. The more you cling to the false image of perfection, the more suffering you cause yourself.

The truth is that you are indeed weak, stupid, and pathetic. Hurtful? Not at all. All humans have frailty that makes them weak at times. All humans have ignorance that makes them stupid at times. All humans have suffering that makes them pathetic at times. Existence contains multitudes. When I look upon a weak, stupid, and pathetic person, I feel compassion because I know how it feels to be there, and I hope that people feel compassion for me whenever I’m there. You, however, can’t accept the reality of your humanity, so you hate yourself; then the more you hate yourself, the more weak, stupid, and pathetic you feel; then the more weak, stupid, and pathetic you feel, the more you hate yourself. Endless cycle of negativity. The more you try to run from negativity, the more you trap yourself in it and lose yourself to darkness. The more you sink into darkness, the more your self-hate bleeds into hatred of others or the world at large.

Until you understand that being a good and worthy person is not equivalent to one-dimensional “perfection”, the cycle of self-loathing continues on. You can’t have healthy Ni when you are unable/unwilling to change the false images that you are desperate to believe in and aim for. You can’t have healthy Fe when your moral values are twisted such that you are unable/unwilling to look upon humanity with empathy and compassion. You can’t have healthy Ti when low self-worth twists your every judgment into irrationally negative criticism. You can’t have healthy Se when you can’t face the reality of what you are.

You keep believing that turning yourself into your fake image of perfection is going to exempt you from pain and criticism. It won’t, even if perfection were possible. You will never be free of pain as long as you are alive because life necessarily includes loss and failure. You will never be exempt from criticism because there is always something new to learn in order to do better and be better throughout life. But you can choose to face up to reality bravely, you can learn to handle the painful side of life with grace and compassion, and you can take criticism constructively and make progress. Care facilitates growth, hatred facilitates violence. Growing has its pains but also its rewards, whereas violence is constant suffering. You always have a choice to care for yourself or hate yourself; one promotes well-being, the other self-destruction, so choose wisely. 

[fullymechanized-consoomer]

40K factions and you

Space Marines:

Your favorite flavor of ice cream is vanilla, but occasionally you might try some Neapolitan, if you’re feeling dangerous. You’re faction’s lore is designed from the ground up to accept your self-inserts, and the models are some of the easiest to paint in the entire range. None of this matters because no matter how unique you think your super-cool “realistic marines who use real tactics maaaaan” are they’ll always come out looking like a slight variation of the ones below

8th edition has finally allowed you to feel a tiny sliver of the unbalanced and over-costed hell other factions have been stuck in for years, but unlike them, daddy GW is more than willing to spend a little extra on his bulky good bois so they still get all the coolest gear and lore. Like vanilla, small children love them, but they grow out of both eventually. 

edit: it was only a matter of time before GW stamped its foot down and made the inevitable decision that its favorite kid needs to be busted again. Then again in all fairness they toned down their overpoweredness from “godlike” to merely “demi-godlike” 

Imperial Guard:

You’re a big “history fan”. You’ve seen Enemy at the Gates, watched some history channel shows about Nazi wonder weapons, and make 54 karma post on r/history_memes recycling debunked Eastern Front jokes. Only your intelligent eye is able to conflate this factions obvious Metal Slug levels of cartoonish design and tactics with realism, and you make sure to remind everyone else of said realism by comparing your tabletop exploits to your military experience in the reserves. Everyone used to like you back when the faction was actually made up of underdogs and under appreciated, but the Guant’s Ghosts references have gotten kinda stale, and no one appreciates the brass balls of these Starship Trooper knockoffs now that 8th edition supports and rewards the very same mindless horde tactics the Guard used to be mocked for in Lore. Despite having some of the most tried and true designs in the game, as well as an incredible amount of options, you will quickly find how limiting the only “realistic” army is in terms of customization and paint schemes, as anything but camo, grey, or tan looks goofy and reveals how silly this faction actually is. 

edit: If your army consists of wrapping 30 guardsmen around basilisks I recommend you take a short fall down a long flight of stairs. Fuck you, Evan.

Eldar:

You’re a real shooter. You know what you like and you stick with it, cause lets face it, it takes a lot of loyalty to stick with these arrogant pricks. Their designs are unique but dated, their lore is a uneven mishmash of 40k grimdark schmultz Tolkien telephone, and Oliver Twist-esque whipping bois for whenever GW writers need to remind us how cool Space Marines are. But none of that matters because you know the truth: Eldar can kick tons of ass on the board, and look good doing it, as their unique designs lends them to all sorts of brilliant color combinations

And unlike other armies their rare design updates improve on their aesthetic while keeping their 40k-ness, something that is becoming increasingly rare in this era of Tacticool marines and Fantasy-creep. Just don’t expect to be taken seriously by anyone but the old-heads.

Edit: Leave it to the whipping bois to be outshined in their own event and get a single model update. Thanks GW, very cool. 

Dark Eldar

You are one of two people: a meta hopping smooth brain who only jumped ship once these guys got one of the best updates in 40k history, or a true intellectual who understood their hidden merit all along. Other faction players like to make fun of you for being edgy, when in reality you know that the Dark Eldar are just a bunch of sociopathic theater kids. They, like you, know how fucked from top to bottom this universe is, and instead of getting depressed they exclaimed “how can we be the best cartoon villains we can be?”. Despite having a relatively bare army list, the fact that these d-bags come in 3 flavors of crazy in a single army offers a ton of variety: the mustache twirling villainy of the Kabals, the crazy bloodstained snuff-stars of the Wych cults, and the BDSM horror show of the Covens. All three offer substantial benefits and drawbacks and must be played carefully in order t- 

Who am I kidding? You’re just gonna stuff  a bunch of Kabal warriors into Venoms and zoom around the map, aren’t you? Enjoy that speed, because your abysmal save stats wont protect you anything more than a furiously thrown walnut. At least your corpses will look rad clad in some of the grimest armor and gear in the game. 

edit: no longer anywhere near as dominent as they were in the earlier years of 8th, but they still look slick as hell and play great. 

Orks

Your IQ randomly jumps from 20 to 200 throughout the day. There is no predicting this, no planning around this, no stopping this. You’re best bet is just to go along with it, and that’s why you play Orks. Orks are roudy good-time buddies who love slapstick slaughter, not having thoughts, and occasionally pulling of cunning plans that human savants would struggle to comprehend. Orks seem to be the only faction that know what joy is, which is why you as a player spread it to everyone else. Yes, the memes and screaming can be a bit much to others sometimes, but like with any other mentally handicapped child  everyone around just grits their teeth through your bad episodes if it means not upsetting your unique sensibilities. And considering that this army’s aesthetic revolves around cobbled together nonsense, you have a lot of uniqueness to give. Orks are easily the most creative faction in the game when it comes to conversions. Nothing is too goofy, too dumb, or too silly to scrap together. As for performance on the tabletop? Go ham. This is an army that rewards merry bullshit and randomness. Remember, you didn’t pick Orks to win, you picked them to have fun. 

edit: So are Orks actually getting anything or what? GW’s plans for this faction is as chaotic as the minds of the ADHD scrambled minds who play them

Necrons

You have a very specific taste in... funky weird-science space Egyptians. Seriously, these guys are practically a completely different army to what they were a decade ago. Gone are the terminator references and eldritch lore nonsense, and here to stay is senility and glyphs. You lie to yourself, saying that you’re not really sure why you chose Necrons, but I know the truth: you chose them because they used to be busted. They used to be unfair. They used to be able to take out top-tier tanks with their version of pea shooters and come back after every turn. So overwhelmed were you by their dazzeling stats and bullshit cheese your brain’s wiring fried and the erratic firing of billions of flayed neurons made you think Necrons had cool lore and interesting models. But now they’ve been nerfed to hell, and you’re no longer stuck in that lasting state of sensory overload. Like a drunk snapping awake with a hangover you come to the painful reality: Necrons are kind of dull. So like me, you put them away in a shoebox forever, leaving their fragile sculpts to slowly fall apart.

Edit: FUCK WHERE IS THE SHOEBOX WHERE DID I LEAVE IT OH GOD OH OH NO OH FUCK THEY’RE ALL BROKEN MAYBE I CAN PUT THEM BACK TOGETHER BEFORE 9th EDITION LAUNCHES I’M SO SORRY FOR WHAT I DID TO YOU NOW MORE THAN EVER I NEED YOU, I NEED MY BOOOOOOOOYS!!!

Tau

You will forever be hated by the community unfairly. You are accuse being anime - and this is true - yet the Eldar get away with being copied wholesale from 80′s space anime and no one seems to notice. You are made fun of for your bad melee, despite having one of the most comprehensively designed niches in an otherwise sloppy game and dominating with nearly every edition. You are made fun of for your lore, despite being largely separate from the cliches and story traps that everyone else has fallen into. You are hated because you are different; hated because you are Asian. 

Tau are an anomaly in 40k: a completely new faction that wasn’t directly ripped off of some other franchise and with an aesthetic that is wholly their own. I won’t be making fun of them because they get enough of that, and you don’t deserve it. Just know this dirty secret: Tau outsell almost every other xenos faction, and despite the supposedly unanimous hate are probably one of the strongest factions in terms of play-style and modelling in the franchise. 

Edit: The tau are grittier than ever, happy now? They still do the same thing they have always done anyways.

Chaos

Unlike the DE you actually are edgy. You worship satan, you throw rocks at homeless people, you start fires because your dad doesn’t spank you enough. Chaos are the closest things that this cluster fuck of a universe can get to being the main villains. Their lore is at once intricate and stupid, both childish and metal as hell. You play chaos because getting your fingers pricked by the models’ spikes is the closest you can come to feeling anything anymore. Just like the chaos lore you love to hype yourself up, to puff your chest and revel in the darkness inside, but when confronted you tend to fold like wet tissue paper. You’ve stopped playing public games with these guys, because the other players don’t understand you and abuse the meta and make fun of your painting skills and  everything is so unfair and don’t you think that chaos marines should get buffs for their points cost, fuck?

Edit: The new models are slick and more power-metal minivan than ever, though the rules are still abysmal despite GW desperately wanting everyone to takes these guys seriously for once. 

Sisters of Battle

GW writers and designers hates Catholics and they hate women, so naturally they hate Sister of Battl. They also hate you for playing them. Because of this SoB are a monument to neglected potential. They have one of the best female armor designs in fiction, great lore, and an interesting playstyle that relies on faith/determination based feats of strength and valor... but GW hate Catholics and women, so SoB get shafted everywhere all the time. More often than not you will be disappointed reading about their exploits as they continually get unfairly slaughtered, corrupted into the horny service of the pervert god, or used as receptacles for blood-based paint when the writer’s favorite faction needs to fight demons. With no plastic models in sight for over a decade everyone began to come to the slow and dreadful realization that GW was looking to Squat our favorite estrogen warriors, until a new revamp was announced. Unfortunately the beta rules look as lackluster as ever, but that’s fine, because as a SoB fan you have learned to expect that GW hates you, Catholics, and women. 

Edit: GW found God and got woke because now they love women and Jesus’ one true Church, but let it be known that reformation doesn’t occur overnight, as the SOB’s faces still betray GW’s lingering discomfort in the female form:

Their rules are fun, and if every codex was designed like it 40k might actually be a fun game

Tyranids

nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom no- and that’s it that’s the Tyranids. I don’t know anything about them besides that, and neither do you, cause that’s their lore. Yes they have cool models, but next to no reliable updates. I’ll pray for you.  

Edit: it really looks like GW has just completely forgotten about you poor souls huh? The Night King, a character who is closely associated with the totally-not-reconned-Tyranid-invasion, comes back and not one word about you guys. They don’t even actively hate you like, say, they hate the Eldar. It’s just... apathy. 

Grey Knights

HAHA AHAHAHAHA HA HA UHAHAHA HAHAAHAHAAHAH HAHA ha ha Ah......... he. hehahaaaAHAHAHAHA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

edit: I hope you all realize that Grey Knights are far too specialized in fighting the permanently under performing forces of chaos to be 40ks “elite among elite.”  You and your entire faction has been made completely obsolescent by the Custodes. The rough times will continue, say hi to the Squats in heaven will you?

Custodes

You are either insufferably full of yourself or a fine practitioner of the model making craft. Most likely though you are neither, and you picked them because you only need gold and red paint to make them look good. Custodes are the space marine’s space marines, and they’re better than you and everyone else. period. At least in lore. On the table their incredible individual stats and elite status are reflected in points cost, so for most large games you will be fielding what amounts to any other faction’s skirmishing army. Unfortunately, since 40k is a stat-sheet battler that favors raw bulk of rolls and stats over the quality of them, you’d be hard-pressed to do well in any serious game. However, for the luminous of mind, the small size is a blessing in disguise since you don’t need to buy and paint as many units as the other armies, and no matter how hard the guard player trashes you his 50 unpainted manlets will never look as good as your 15 gloriously crafted golden Chads. Stick to smaller games, and the individual strength of each model will make up for the glaring absence caused by their loss.

Ironically enough despite being an elite faction from a relatively obscure part of 40k lore, these attributes make Custodes the perfect casual player’s faction. It is my personal theory that if GW didn’t grossly inflate their prices to such a high degree everyone would have a Custodes army. 

Oh yeah, Henry Cavil plays these guys, because of course he does.