#cracking eggs of wisdom

[charliework16]

they’re throwing down life lessons

[the-kinfolk-wellin-chronicles]

You Got to Crack an Egg

New Blog Alert!

To whom it may concern: Does it make me crazy that I release music yet appear to be in no rush to do shows or videos or join the culture? Is it weird that I will provide you with the show if you request my presence? However, I must be paid for you to be in my presence. In the age of everyone selling access to their life, am I weird that I don’t gain pleasure from such things? Is it weird that…

[claudiafrankie]

Pick a Card: Let me Describe You/What You're Going Through

DISCLAIMER: TAROT IS NOT AN EVIDENCE-BASED PRACTICE. YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF MAKING YOUR OWN DECISIONS.

Pile 1: The Birds

This pile feels strongly ancestral. I don't know if you connect with your ancestors but they sure as shit want to connect with you lol. I think something in your life is in the process of unfolding and you are doing a really good job of staying objective about it. Not meddling with the outcome, just letting what will be, be. There seems to be a lot of chatter and external opinions flying around you, and your ancestors are like "for the birds" lmao.

For awhile now you have been in a stage of agitation, like when the piece of sand gets caught in an oyster and is transformed into a pearl. I think there's people around you that can sense that this is going on within you, but they might not have the tools to articulate this or approach you in a loving/sincere way about it, with the concern for your well-being/desire to help at the forefront of their intentions.

You could be isolating a lot because you feel this energy. You have become masterful at creating a haze/fog around yourself to conceal and protect yourself. It's like your in the kitchen cooking for company and your guests are breathing down your neck like "When's it going to be ready?? What are you making in there??? Can I see can I see can I see????" Lol I don't think these people have ill intentions they just don't know how to support you right now. I think you might have to take a more direct approach if you want them to lay off, though. I don't see them easing up/giving you your space, so if you want/need that it might be time to say that up front. You are pretty good at evading prying eyes, but you may have to play mama bear for yourself if you need more space than what you're getting.

I think you've been getting a lot of downloads and messages about your path and your healing process. You need to know that to integrate these messages you have to find better ways to rest. Not just literally like sleeping or napping, but things you can do to relax your mind and especially your body. You're kind of in a gestation process. Dealing with that on top of the stress of everyday living (and these birds who can't seem to mind their own business lol) calls for a more serious prioritization of slowing down.

I feel like I need to tell you that meditation doesn't have to be sitting still and breathing. Beach-combing can be meditative, coloring in a coloring book can be meditative, baking brownies can be meditative. I think it would really help you to pick an activity that is simple and slow and just really do it. Feel the pebbles/sand crunch/squeak under your feet, feel the coarse calcium shells, smell the crayons and watch their colors flood a blank page, listen to the egg shells crack on the counter.

I get that you might be dealing with some feelings of fear and/or dread. You aren't really sure what you're transforming into, and what will be left standing in your life once the process is complete. You're not a bad person for changing and leaving things or people behind. I think you are the type to cling to guilt over past relationships and really beat yourself up over mistakes. You are allowed to make mistakes. Once you start giving yourself that grace I think this gestation period will be a lot more bearable. It will still be uncomfortable, but you'll have a greater level of tolerance for discomfort and a stronger skill set for accommodating yourself.

I think you might be called to help guide others who are going through a similar process as well. I think this is not the first time you have moved through a period like this. You have the ability to notice when someone is struggling with changes in their own life and psyche, and the wisdom to be a source of comfort and guidance for them. I think you have encountered unsolicited advice and know how unhelpful and frustrating it can be to be on the receiving end of that, you know how to hold space for people in uncomfortable transition periods and not assert your own opinions/perspectives onto them of what they "should" be doing or what you think would be "good" for them. More than anything you understand how invaluable it is to have someone witness what you're going through and reflect it back to you without judgement. To really see you, and be with you.

Take care pile 1.

Pile 2: The Tower

Woah. This pile feels old old. There is a profoundly detached energy coming through for you guys, very cerebral and heady. It's not cold, but there is a sort of ruthless... neutrality. You see everyone as being on the same level, playing on the same field, fighting for the same things. Just maybe with some different outfits or weapons. This perspective informs your behavior heavily, and I feel like this might be misread by those around you as a disregard for authority, a sense of entitlement, of superiority. When in actuality, you're simply carrying yourself as exactly what you are: a sovereign being with power over your own life. You know that no one gets to tell you who you are, ever.

This kind of self-image and worldview, to many, is radical. Your presence forces people to confront themselves. They see you move through obstacles, pick yourself up, let things bounce right off you, and keep trying. They see your unwavering sense of self, a steady fire burning in a hearth. They are confronted with the reality that they have not cultivated this in themselves, or at least have not attained the level of mastery they perceive in you.

This can go two ways: some look to you as a source of inspiration. Some as competition. This pile is used to people competing with them for no good reason. You may have had people pretend to be friends with you, get close to you, try and siphon off of the glow and warmth of your inner world. You see the pain in people and you easily forgive, you are understanding of the myriad of reasons why people struggle to accept themselves. But you have also learned that, at the end of the day, we either decide to do something about this pain or we don't. And you can't make anyone do anything. There's that radical neutrality. You have faith that everyone is where they are meant to be, and will end up where they are meant to go.

Two of the tarot cards I pulled for you guys were Justice and the Ace of Swords. You guys are both a channel for the truth and the truth itself. The smallest things you do signal to others how you see the world, how you understand your place in it. I forget where I heard this, but there is an idea of "how you do one thing is how you do everything." That's you guys. Your beliefs permeate into everything you do.

I think for a lot of you, your karma could be playing out in the workplace. I think you are supposed to model for people what it means to really do the work, literally and figuratively. You are meticulous and shrewd. I might even say brilliant. You have a sharp mind and the drive to back it up. I get the sense that if you wanted to you could really fuck with people, but you don't. And I think this is for two reasons: I think you have a genuine appreciation and love for people and humanity, and I think you also have a deep understanding of the laws of karma. You understand the seriousness and precariousness of it all. You do not hold this lightly.

Maybe things feel stagnant at work, like they aren't moving, like your efforts go unnoticed or worse, are disregarded. Keep going. Keep trying. Not for anyone but yourself. Because you owe it to yourself to cultivate something that is all yours. Brick by brick, I think you have the potential to build yourself into a seriously successful person. But I don't think you'll be one of those people who has windfalls of luck - unexpected promotions or raises. And if these things do come to you, I see that these speedy promotions will be ultimately reversed. You are here to show people what it means to do it yourself, do it right. And doing it right takes time. But I don't think you need me to tell you that. ;)

Take it easy pile 2.

Pile 3: The Heart

You guys are tired and fed the fuck up is who you are lmao. I think the amount of pressure and frustration you have been encountering in your relationships has been building and building and building. As I'm writing this the time is 5:55, and two of your tarot cards are the five of pentacles and the five of swords. Things are changing for you guys, and it probably feels like, "Finally."

I think you're moving through a period where you have felt powerless when it comes to your relationships. There is a lot of build up of resentment for the people around you. I think you have been trying to stay optimistic, and maybe pushing down the part of you that's like "actually no......... we're not going to be treated like that"

I think there is or was a group of people that made you feel excluded. Your mistakes were magnified and your wins were ignored. You have been made to feel like it's your fault that they don't accept you, framing the dynamics as though you are the one who has to earn their approval. There is a really fucked up weaponizing of abandonment/belonging here. Like the behavior of these people is underhanded and covert, nothing really big happens that you can point to and say "That's what I'm talking about!!! Y'all are giant assholes!" It's all under the surface but it is detectable in so many of your interactions. They have been trying to get you to crack, to contort yourself to meet their expectations, to sacrifice your autonomy and self respect to fit in, just like they have.

I think there is some danger here on your part of swinging to an extreme. With the level of anger and frustration depicted in your cards, I wouldn't be surprised if you are fighting back tooth and nail your impulse to smack a bitch. I would like to tell you that, while honestly this would likely be a valid response in your situation, please do not engage in these types of behavior. Once to retaliate or respond to how you are being treated, it will be twisted. Even though you are the one who has been poked, prodded, and laughed at, if you respond to this - you will be made out to be the bad guy. And I know that that is crazy-making, but it's unfortunately how the world works. Don't give them the satisfaction. Take all that pent up energy and channel it into something for you, don't waste it on these people. They don't deserve it. Let it fuel your work ethic, start a new creative project, learn a new skill, start a side hustle, whip yourself into killer shape. Start your winter arc early, if you will. Let them watch you climb to the top, and then smile at them.

I think yeah you're just in a time of realizing how much of yourself you have set aside to please other people, and how detrimental this is to you and your relationships. You might have been feeling socially "stuck" for a long time. Past hurts have calcified and become like part of your skeletal structure. You've been in so much pain. I'm not sure if you've been keeping what you've been going through to yourself but if you have, it seems like some kind of outlet would be good. Even if you don't have anyone in your life that you feel safe opening up to, or if you can't afford therapy, use your body, journal, scream in a pillow, rage cry, dance it out to bad bitch anthems. This is like heavy and sharp and hot energy and it's just sitting in your solar plexus. You could be lashing out at people who don't deserve it and pushing away potential friends because there's just so much of this pain that you are struggling to express it and move through it. This is human and normal and there is nothing wrong with you!!!!

Best of luck pile 3

[hustlemeanokay]

I've read a few things on here so far and I can honestly say that some people totally missed the mark on the whole Mythal & Solas thing.

And since this apparently turned into a Solas v. Mythal v. Lavellan v. Spirits in general ted talk... it's below the cut for that and spoilers.

So, okay. Just... okay. Not sure how else to put this but... there are different kinds of love. And... just because ol' boy here fell in romantic love with someone ten years ago... does not mean that will supersede or overthrow this all encompassing relationship he's had with Mythal for hundreds and hundreds of years. The whole discord over this gives me big... new girlfriend takes issue with boyfriend having any relationship outside of them vibes.

If we're skipping down the Solavellan lane... Solas absolutely loves the Inquisitor. Now, let's take a step back and really think about that one for a moment. Romantic love. Here is a being that is timeless. That has walked Thedas for thousands of years and before that? Was just there. That has no beginning. And he has changed so much... and has fallen in love. With a mortal. With someone he knows he is going to lose - one way or another. He will lose her. He perceives time so incredibly differently than Lavellan. Ten years to him? A blink, if that.

Now, full disclosure - do I think there should have been at least a mural/fresco dedicated to a romanced Lavellan in the Lighthouse? Yes. Absolutely. Like maybe in his weird hidden office. Did they have one planned? Maybe, no idea. I think there should have been one. Because we already know he thinks of his relationship with her as a regret, one he treasures. But a regret regardless. Because he went into that knowing it will hurt. Knowing that it will hurt them both and he did it anyway. He let himself live in a dream, if only for a moment. [Oh and another disclosure - I am not a big Solas x Lavellan fan. I was the one sitting here going "crack the egg!" the whole time building up to Veilguard. So, there's that.] But - thinking about their relationship and how incredibly remarkable it is. Is it unfair to Lavellan? Oh, completely.

But when we're talking about Mythal? Let's see, how best to put this. In order of power; starting at the top: Mythal -> Solas -> Lavellan. Solas was never on equal footing with Mythal. She released him from her service. This was not a loving, two sided relationship. Mythal straight up took advantage of Solas, she manipulated him, and she used him. And because Solas is, at his core, still very much a spirit - he retained that - he's got no concept of grey. It's all black or white with spirits. It is or it isn't. But because he retained that - he never understood what she was doing. Never entertained the idea that she came to him with the sole purpose of using his wisdom as another tool in the fight. "I need your wisdom" she said but immediately disregards it when he offers it up. No, she needed his power. Solas himself is incredibly powerful - his power is just different than the other gods. (And yes, he's a god as they understand the term. He can rail against it all day long but it won't change that fact.) If we are going to look at him like a god - he's a creation / dream god. But not a trickster god. He's a clever one. He's not bound by the same morals as mortals because he doesn't think like one. Just like the 'love' he has for Mythal is not the same because love as mortals understand it is not in his scope of understanding until he meets Lavellan. Then - then he learns what love is. But, while love is the strongest mortal emotion - it is not the strongest emotion for a spirit unless that spirit is a spirit of love.

You have to think of Solas like a spinning top. Like the other gods - he was left unchecked. Only difference is, he's not inherently violent. But he is proud. Because, as we've already learned, wisdom can so easily be twisted to pride. He can be an insufferable know-it-all when dealing with Rook and there's a reason for this. He thinks he knows better. Because that's who he is, that's what he is. But he's already been proven wrong before, so many times. And each time he fails, every time he gets it wrong, he's twisted more towards pride instead of learning from his mistake. Because spirits don't learn.

We've seen it happen before. Justice. If you played Awakening - you would have thought that Justice was like... getting it, right, he was getting the whole mortal thing. But then you see him in DA2 and you're like "wow, yeah... no, he didn't get it". Because mortality comes with it a plethora of grey layers and spirits don't understand that. Spite. He doesn't understand patience, he doesn't understand that people don't just snap back from trauma. He doesn't get it. Spirits don't understand. They only understand their core trait. Spite gets spite. Justice gets justice. Wisdom gets wisdom. End of list. Anything past that? They're spinning tops, grasping at understanding that too often slips through their fingers. And mortals pay the price because mortals are foolish enough to think they can matter in the same way to them.

But Lavellan? She does matter. She 'changes everything'. And Solas doesn't know what to do with that. Because he can't let it change everything. Because he's still in service to Mythal. Running on a directive that is centuries old. A directive that he came to under severe distress. Enemies that were enemies from the start of his physical creation (the Evanuris) and then they kill Mythal. Death is something we know Spirits do not understand. (Spite not understanding where Manfred has gone.) And Solas spirals. So when he meets Mythal again? Sees that not only did she survive in part but that she's been out there? Just leaving him to do what? Flail and flounder? To fight this bloody war that has twisted him into something he was never supposed to be? Well... she's not really Mythal, is she? She's Flemeth. And Flemeth is just a mortal, holding onto power that was never hers. Yes, it's a regret but it's not enough to stop him. Because everything has to go back to the way it was. Back when things made sense! Because Solas doesn't know what to do otherwise. So he does all of this. All while knowing that Lavellan is out there. Knowing that the highest cost of all of it won't be the world but it will be her. So, he stays away from her.

I mean, think about that for a minute. Here's Mythal. Mythal. And he cuts her down. He feels bad, sure but like... doesn't stop him. It could even be argued that one of the reasons she had to go was because she would try to stop him. (But there's no basis for this just rando thought) and yet... here's Lavellan. A mortal. Just a woman. No one, really. A Dalish elf who's missing a damn arm. He has the opportunity to kill her. To just take the anchor's power and kill her. We all know he's done worse to those he's known much longer (-cough-Felassan-cough-). But he doesn't. He can't. He makes sure she'll survive that meeting with him. And then proceeds to stalk her dreams for the next decade. For no real reason other than to just... be with her, in some way. (Yes, it's creepy.)

But the point is - all of these people out there going on about how Lavellan couldn't talk him down but oh, here comes Mythal and she could blah blah blah. And it's like - you're totally missing the mark. Mythal didn't talk him down at all. She literally freed him. Not metaphysically. No, like... she - as the owner - freed him. Suddenly, he was no longer bound. Literally. He was no longer bound by the promise he'd made. He was no longer bound by duty. He could do what he wanted. What he wanted. And what he wanted was to save the world and stop hurting the woman he loved. He wanted to go away and become better for her. He didn't want her hurting more by going with him. Because he knew how fucked up he was. How messed up he was. But there she was, showing him again, that she was far stronger than anyone he'd ever met. Because she wasn't going to let him be alone anymore. Everyone, everyone - spirit or mortal that he had met throughout his incredibly long life has let him be alone. But not her. And there he is - a fucking god, an ageless being... who's seen more, done more, than any person alive... being brought to tears by this woman.

Let's not forget the breathless way he says "vhenan" when he sees her, when he's in her physical presence for the first time in, presumably, years. The way he seems to deflate. Because she can't be there, not her. But there she is. And that makes it worse. That twists the knife again. That makes him, as a fucking spirit, lean harder towards pride.

I mean, who could look at the interaction he has with Mythal and think that that is love? The man damn near kneels as soon as he sees her. And not in a good way. He turns into this vulnerable, shaken, obviously hurt being in her presence. And Mythal just spits out a generic apology and then releases him. That's the care she had for him. From a beautiful spirit of wisdom to this. This is what she has done to him. Who the hell is going to compare the two? And then the way he is almost brought to his knees not out of sorrow or anything but out of relief- the weight of everything suddenly off of him. I mean, come on.

It's like, I don't know who needs to hear this but women can be abusers too. And Mythal was one hundred percent the offending party here. Look at Solas' interactions with Rook. How he speaks to them, how he acts with them, how confident he is (how much of an asshole he is, honestly) and then look at how Solas is with romanced Lavellan in Inquisition. Carefree, almost. Light. A little silly. Mister Soft eyes over there. Gentle. And remorseful at the end but still soft. And then look at him with Mythal. Dude damn near crumbles. That is not a loving relationship. That is not okay.

And yeah - this kind of went all over the place but the point of it is this...

You can't think of Solas the same as you would a mortal person. Because he isn't. And you can't think of Mythal as a mortal person. Because she isn't. One far more removed than the other but the fact remains - Solas is still very bound when he denies Lavellan when she pleads for him to stop (again). Once unbound, Solas is free to do what he's wanted to do all along. Be the hero. Save the people, all people, all life. He's been trying to since the very beginning but has been restricted by his creation into the mortal realm. Were Mythal and him a couple? No. I'm not sure it even occurred to Solas that that was even a possibility until Lavellan. I don't think romantic emotional and physical connections intertwined into one relationship even occurred to Solas until Lavellan. Do I think he's had partners before? Possibly, dude's hella old. But personally, I think that if he did (and that's questionable) it was probably more about curiosity than true relationships. Because he comes from a world of power structure and ever shifting dynamics above and below him but never with him. Mythal and the rest are above him. Felassan and the others were below him. And he's rigid when it comes to taking advantage of others (insert his comment about not being with the Inquisitor under false pretenses, which I call bullshit on but that's just my opinion).

And I better stop because I could just keep rambling and rambling about this.

[written-with-blue-ink]

Cuddles with alhaitham? I want to be in his arms desperately please and thank you

Thank you for the ask! Not necessarily cuddles but happy wholesome fluff is coming up <3 also, I got a lot of requests and I am going in order from oldest to newest, sorry for the wait y'all. Wish the Furina wanters to be Furina Havers!

At the Dendro Archon's Decree, Alhaitham X Reader

Being the (Acting) Grand Scribe meant long days and multiple pots of coffee just to get work done. How he wondered how much Aazar and so many previous Grand Sages fucked up just due to not listening to the “Lesser Lord”. 

The average day had him leave long before you woke up and come home when you had finished your dinner, curled in the corner with a book. Sure, the few moments he got to spend with you were precious, but you both knew you wanted more time together. Just seemed like it wasn’t in the cards right now.

That’s why when the doors of the elevator opened, he was not expecting the God of Wisdom sitting at his desk, scribbling down notes and her vizier, no kagemusha was the term he used for himself, sitting off to the side with a scowl and crossed arms. “Lord Kusanali,” Alhaitham slowly stated, eyes glancing at the both of them, “I wasn’t aware we had a meeting today.”

Her green eyes fluttered up, her flower-shaped pupils meeting his, and seemed to shine with amusement. “Alhaitham! You’re here,” she smiled, pulling herself up so she was standing on the chair, “you can go home now. Bye!”

The white-haired man narrowed his eyes and cocked a brow as he stepped to the center of the room. “While I don’t mind going home,” he spoke bluntly, “is there a reason for my sudden dismissal?”

“Yeah, you work too much,” the hat-wearing boy said in the corner, a smirk on his face that always seemed to rub Alhaitham slightly the wrong way.

“Exactly,” Nahida smiled, pointing at the boy with indigo hair. “Not in a bad way but you have taken on so much work that was originally split evenly amongst several heads. While we are looking for replacements you have taken on that work but you deserve a break, Grand Sage Alhaitham.”

“Acting Grand Sage,” he corrected but he couldn’t help but feel some of the tension leave his shoulders. “But thank you, Lord Kusanali. I’ll be going now.”

Swiftly turning around and walking back to the elevator, he couldn’t help but smile as Nahida shouted, “Have fun! Tell (Y/N) I said hi!”

Walking out the doors of the Academia’s Library, the edge of the sun started peaking over the horizon. The warmth on his skin seemed to add some speed to his step as he briskly walked home.

---

Waking up in the morning, the smell of fresh bread hit your nose and the light shining through the windows sturred your senses. The thin bronze cat batted at the pillow next to you, her spots seeming darker in the shadow she gave off. “Mornin, Asal… How are you, baby girl?”

She purred as you scratched behind her ear, flopping on her side as you scratched her tummy with a smile. After a minute or two, the smell from outside your bedroom seemed to grow stronger and Asal flipped herself back onto her feet and bounded out the cracked door. You giggle as you hop to your feet, running out the door after her.

Wandering through the hall, you turn the corner just in time to watch Asal crawl up the green fabric before wrapping herself around the neck of a familiar face, his eyes concentrating on the stove as he cooked some eggs. She licked the side of his face, causing him to turn to the left, eyes meeting yours as you both smiled. “What are you doing here, handsome? Shouldn’t you be doing Grand Sage things?”

“Lord Kusanali sent me home and said I needed to spend more time with you,” he said, eyes on you instead of the dish in front of him as he slid the eggs onto a plate. “But you wouldn’t have any idea about that, would you?”

Strutting forward, he places an arm around your waist. “Why, I have no idea what you could be insinuating,” you smirk, placing a kiss on his lips as he pulls you closer to his chest.

Asal crawled down from the man’s neck into your arms, purring as you held her close. Alhaitham rolled his eyes, leading you to a table covered in slices of bread, cheeses, honey, and other spreads. Pulling a chair out for you, he spoke, “Then how did the Dendro Archon know you and I were dating? I don’t necessarily talk about my private life at work.”

“Well,” you coo, placing a hand on his, “I may or may not have run into her while I was bringing you lunch a few weeks ago. Then she would occasionally stop by in my dreams and we would talk… You aren’t mad, are you?”

His eyes melted at the question. Leaning over the chair, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and he placed a kiss in your hair, “How could I ever be upset at you?”

[starrailstories]

Hey! Could you write something about Blade having a keeper of time/ timekeeper s/o? ♥

first ask!!! let's hecking goooooooo

i wanted to write headcanons but then one thing led to another and it's a short story that i hope you enjoy

Blade x gn!Timekeeper!S/O — Seen in the shards

warnings: mentions of blade's depression and suicidal thoughts (canon-compliant), possibly ooc but i really really hope i wrote him well

Blade is destruction incarnate, the mara and rage and grief taking over him sporadically, like bile rising to the throat. He is an effective tool of the Hunters (ironic, isn't it? an abomination like him hardly can Hunt), and many would think that this is all he is, a bounty and a sin and a loosely held leash.

You know him differently, though. You know him in the moments of repose in-between the storm that he brings along, and in those moments, he feels like a large shard of time away from where he'd fit. It's always shards with him, glimpses of past mistakes, and battles, and memories, but mostly sorrow. You think of the ways time cracks as you struggle to keep it whole, revealing the uncomfortable truths you dare not mention to the IPC or the Intelligentsia Guild. It's kind of similar, like if you try just enough, you'll see the complete picture once again.

And he doesn't get you at first, because collecting broken shards and piecing them back is not what Blade does. Blade is all about burning bridges, throwing himself into battle headfirst, Blade does - not - get it when you show concern or worry, when you offer to share a meal, when you tend to a wound of his, when you try and protect him in battle, because he isn't supposed to be together, only apart, shatter and shatter and shatter in hopes that one day, he'll just lie there broken and dead and gone.

You care and that hurts, for some reason, hurts in a way that doesn't sate his urge to be hurt.

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"I almost pity you, Bladie. But envy you all the same," Kafka drops one day as they're sat in a boujee cafe on a planet that will experience a Stellaron catastrophe in about three system hours. She raises her cup of tea to her lips almost immediately, but he catches a hint of a smile.

"Pity, I understand, but I do not welcome it. However, what of the envy?"

Kafka set down her cup gently, in a manner that she would always do, and her smile faded.

"Soon, you would know the meaning of fear. You knew it once, but in a different lifetime. Now, you will know it again, and it will hurt in different ways. It's fascinating."

She spoke with a certainty, as if reciting a script. Possibly that was the case, and that was more sad than anything. Given a power to make anyone listen, but stuck saying words someone else wrote.

"So it will happen?"

"As much as anything said by Destiny's Slave will. There's a seed for fear in that, too. You will resent your wish and your fate, but it still will happen, even if you don't want it to happen anymore."

Right. Blade looks away, because he doesn't usually decipher the grand scheme of things. He was promised a death and a settling of the score, and he is content with that, content in the way a sword is content to rest in its sheath. Kafka reaches across the table to touch his forehead as if to impart a wisdom.

She'd point a gun to his head and he'd be just as apathetic.

"Listen. I am telling you this for your sake, after all."

There's no command behind the word, and Blade regrets this, because thinking he dislikes most of all.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Fear is a foreign concept, but the more you reach out to him with your care, the more he starts to grasp it. He knows of your strength, he knows of your capabilities, he sees you constantly fixing time itself, reaching into the molten metal with hands exposed and heart bare, to stitch all together before the past pours into the present and the future into the past and a sea of fake stars replaces the cosmos you traverse (you told him once of a world inside an egg one time, where the sky is fake and the up is down and why does he remember these trivial things again).

But he also knows of his own strength, and how all that he touches goes awry, and that is scary — to see you reach out when he knows full well how your care might destroy you, how he might destroy you.

"You shouldn't be picking up the shards. They'd cut you," he says one time after another crack is restored and the anomaly of the Fragmentum shifts into a stable state. His sword drags on the ground, leaving a distinctly red trace. You know he isn't speaking about the timeline.

"Those are big words coming from someone carrying a sword made of shards," you smile like you always do and it hurts. Because it hurts to be cared for and treated like a person and where were you those centuries ago when dying still felt memorable and there was something besides the anger?

He wishes he fell into a timeline anomaly back then because that would mean even for a moment, being caught by you, and that is a scary thought.

"Blade?" he's zoning out. Bad. He is supposed to keep himself in check, because most people are capable of dying and he is a remarkably well-working death machine.

"I will say this more clearly: if you keep reaching out to me, you will die."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

You don't stop because... actually why. Blade still doesn't get it. Blade doesn't speak up anymore, a sword in its sheath, but he thinks sometimes. Thinking is still a horrible pastime activity. But he does wonder about what it would have felt like to have met you earlier, when there was some feeling left in him.

He wonders if you bandaging a wound of his would make him feel safe. He wonders if the snacks you buy on the planets you visit would make him feel sated. He wonders if after a long day, sleeping next to each other would make him feel truly content.

Dangerous thoughts, yet strangely warm, like candlelight.

You plop on the bed of a dingy hotel room you two are staying at. Blade cares little about the quality of the establishment, but he does care about security, and keeping on the down low is of the essence. He stores his sword next to his side of the bed, to draw if a fight occurs.

He doesn't sleep anyway, simply lies in a dreamless haze, so nothing would catch him off-guard.

"Room's tiny. Bed's hard as a rock, too," you make small talk, untying the laces of your boots.

"Mhm," Blade hums. He thinks that there were free rooms in the hotel. With two beds in each, no less. He doesn't bring this up because it's safer to stay close together and that's the only reason.

"And it's cold."

"Mhm," he hums again. He doesn't feel much in terms of warmth or coldness.

You lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he checks for emergency exit pathways and makes notes of useful items.

"Sometimes I wish there were no anomalies or Stellarons out there. Then we wouldn't have large bounties on our heads and we'd be able to afford all the good hotels."

"We wouldn't have met then. And this room is sufficient."

Blade says sufficient, but for the last while, he found sufficient lacking. He wanted good things, despite being undeserving, and it hurt, too, because he knew all too well what happened to the good things in his life.

He lies down next to you, six inches, seven hundred years and a universe apart.

"Would we? I'd still have found you, I feel like."

It feels weird to hear this. He remembers how you once got hurt because you tried to block a hit meant for him. It was a long time ago, before that could hurt. It wasn't anything serious, but now, guilt eats at him each time he notices the faint scar on your shoulder. He drifts his gaze left, and there it is, a reminder.

And he also sees that you're cold.

What comes next is a whim and Blade never acts on whims. But he turns on the bed and drags you into an embrace.

"You wouldn't have liked what you've found."

Because then he'd be a mara-struck abomination, immortal mess of ginkgo leaves and dripping bile and the same names roared so much that no one would hear what he says. He still is like that, just somewhat grounded.

"You always decide for me. But isn't it up to me to weigh my choices, Blade?"

No, he wants to say, it's not. He's been mortal and stupid before, and that was his mistake. For that, he must pay a price. He doesn't want you to be hurt that way because you, unlike him, don't deserve this.

But he says none of it, as you raise your hand and touch his cheek and it's warm and it hurts—

His voice breaks, in both anger and fear, "I don't want you fixing me. I know you want to pick up the shards and glue them together. But you will regret that wish."

He isn't Yingxing and he won't be Yingxing ever again. What was him died on the Xianzhou Luofu, and it died again and again and again until what was left couldn't recall the deaths any longer. Then, a mess of shards, an empty husk, he was Blade, and he couldn't ever go back.

You smile gently at him.

"I know. If you ever decide to piece the shards together, it should be your choice and not mine, and I have no deal interfering with that. But still, I want to see all of you, Blade. Broken or not."

It's scary because admitting that he wants you to see him too would mean accepting that it won't change a thing. The script is merciless and uncaring. Even if he allows himself to love you, he is already destined to die as part of the performance. It's scary because it changes everything. It's scary because it changes nothing.

He shifts on the bed, so that you're face to face.

"May I kiss you?"

You close the distance first, as you always do, and he, for the first time in seven hundred years, feels seen.

[intotheelliwoods]

yeah I have no explanation for this one haha, other than I think I just realized that I accidentally created the most unthreatening and pathetic future Leo out there, no thoughts in his brain other than parental therapeutic wisdom, cant crack eggs, got his arm stuck in his shell, just saying

[seeker-ophelia]

Hallelujah

(There are no Veilguard spoilers in this content, it was all created in early September, I’m only posting it now).

So I found this old Bioware article from 2014…

Its about what the writers listened to when they wrote their characters.

I was immediately struck by Weekes’ (writer of Bull, Cole, & Solas) comment that he wrote whole swaths of Solas dialogue listening to K.D. Langs cover of Hallelujah.

Because when I was playing Origins, way back in 2009, as soon as I heard the words “The Chant of Andraste” I thought of Hallelujah.

No better parallel could exist for me. Hallelujah, if you listen to the lyrics, is not really church related, yet it got absorbed into the church as a hymn. Its fucking sad, and yet we’re praising god or some shit?

Kinda like how I feel The Chantry has changed their religion, their original purpose, Andraste and the Maker and all that, into something horrible (subjugation/lobotomization of mages, feeding templars crack, you know, nOrMal StUfF).

I love the parallels there. And I love that Weekes used this sad-ass fucking dirge for our sad-ass fucking egg, especially considering what KD Lang said about it:

Canadian singer k.d. lang said in an interview shortly after Cohen's death that she considered the song to be about "the struggle between having human desire and searching for spiritual wisdom. It's being caught between those two places."       (Be still, my heart.)

And I thought about how Legends Shouldn’t Be Given The Weight of History, and how The Chantry’s purpose has been twisted, and how Hallelujah’s purpose has been twisted, and at the time, I was completing The Temple of the Emerald Knights in DA:I. I was thinking about how the Elvhen temple is littered with statues of Andraste and Mythal (dragon), how there’s a Knight, Andale (which is so obviously Andraste, prob Flemythal reincarnate of some sort).

The blending and melding and mushing of cultures and religions as time drags on, how originally good or pure purposes are changed or shifted, or corrupted.

And I thought of Andraste again.

I have been unhealthily obsessed with this artist named Aly, who is a Bard in Thedas and sings at The Dread Halla Tavern (you can find them on spotify here);  

(for clarification, this human is not me, I am not a singer, she is very good, you should go listen to all her songs-after you read this).

Anyways, I got to thinking…

What would Andraste’s Hallelujah sound like?

I had to write it.

Its sad and beautiful and tells the story of a woman flighting against forces she has no hope of defeating (But we still have to try).

[Andraste’s Lament]

And I got immediately transported to a smoky, dimly lit tavern in Southern Thedas. Aly has just sung Andraste’s Lament, and is approached by Neria, a lone Dalish Elf who clutches a scrap of paper tightly in her hand.

Aly listens to this elf tell her a story of a sad song her mother used to sing her when she was young, before she got killed by bandits. And could she sing this song for her, please, she even has a few coppers.

And Aly sits down, scans the paper, and realizes it’s a different version of Andraste’s Hallelujah.

Written in small looping script at the top, in Common, is Dirge of the Dread Wolf.

And she sings it softly to Neria, a strange story of mothers and gods and tricksters and wolves, and Neria’s eyes well.

[Dirge of the Dread Wolf]

She ends the song, the last beautiful Hallelujah trembling through the thickness of the tavern air.

Neria sniffs once, and then begins a new story. Aly listens to this Elf speak of a crumbling Dalish temple deep in the middle of nowhere, where she found a piece of paper beside a four legged statue that has since eroded to expressionless guardianship, of words crossed out and changed and smudged.

Then she shakily hands Aly a different piece of paper.

This velumm is significantly older than the first, thicker, almost crumbling around the edges.

And its Hallelujah again, but its spelled wrong, and some strange name with too many n’s in it is written at the top.

And Neria asks Aly if she can sing this.

But it’s written in Elvhen, and Aly shakes her head, she doesn’t think she can stumble through all the strange Dalish a’s and ash’s and am’s (there's so many damn vowels in Dalish…).

But, Aly halts the elfs falling face, she is more than willing to sing this in Common, if Neria will stay to act as translator.

So the two bend their heads close over the bar, and Aly pulls out her small precious notebook where she writes down the lyrics to her own tunes, and they quickly make work of the Elvhen words, Aly humming and hawing as she changes some words to better match the pattern of the song.

And soon they have a brand-new Hallelujah, and Aly asks Neria to pronounce the name at the top.

Ghil-an’nain, Neria says, and make sure you spell the hallelujah right.

H, a, l, l, a, l, i, e, u, y, a.

What does that mean in Dalish? Aly asks the elf.

And Neria shrugs. Halla is like a halla, she assumes. But this word lieu, she doesn’t know.

Aly assumes in the context of this song it must mean birth, but Neria shakes her head. Shena is the verb for born.

Well, what about victory? But Neria shakes her head again. Ena’sal’in is the word for victory, or triumph.

Aly blows out a breath. She’s a lyricist. What would make this poetic.

What about truth?

The elf thinks, and a small smile grows on her lips.

She can’t think of a Dalish word for truth.

Ghilan’nain’s Truth of the Halla?

Aly’s beautiful soprano soon fills the room, and her eyes widen when a soft Alto joins her, singing along in the original Elvhen.

[Ghilan’nain’s Truth of the Halla]   

A haunting melody, completely changed by the understanding of the root of halla lieu’ya, not a praise to The Maker, or the curse of a trickster, but the story of a young god, beaten and battered and blinded, and her creations, and her destruction of them.

[Ghilan’nan’es Halla’lieu’ya]

The tavern erupts when they finish, and poor Neria blushes furiously as her back is slapped, and her hair is tousled, by the patrons of the establishment.

Aly and her new friend make their way to the bar, where foaming tankards await them.

They cheers, and as they tip the beer back, a city elf approaches them, dressed like a Dalish, but he has no vallaslin. He pushes his cowl down to reveal a bald head and shocking purple eyes. His voice is quiet, with a deep, romantic lilt.

“Where did you find that song?”

…

Please be gentle with any constructive criticism on my voice, I am absolutely NOT a singer, I know I don’t have a superstar voice but I’m also not tone deaf, so just… don’t be shitty to me, internet. Listen to the lyrics, not the delivery.

If anyone’s actually interested, I'll message you the lyrics. I also did record all four songs (Andraste, Dread Wolf, Ghilly (English), and Ghilly (Elvhen),) but can only put one video per post. Maybe I'll link them later if people are interested.

*It did not even occur to me until after writing Andraste’s Hallalujah that someone might have had this idea already. I did a little googling afterwards, and someone has put solas’ dialogue to the tune of Hallalujah, but no ones “re-written” it yet in this context (that I could find). My query to you is, why would Solas speak in Leonard Cohen's hallelujah/iambic pentameter if he had never heard it before?

---

Obviously, this can never be turned into a real song, because Sony owns the rights to the OG Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. But the romanticism of this song, changing through the ages, was too good to pass up. I hope you enjoy it, sincerely, and if you are a better singer than I, by all means, use my lyrics and record it, and please send me the link so that I can listen to it!  

Thanks to Weekes, Leonard Cohen, & The Dread Halla Tavern for inspiring this.

Bare your blade, and raise it high.

[strawberryscandy]

Curiosity Saved Me

This Fanfic is a slow burn about a teenage Frisk that fell down instead of Frisk as a child. She heard about the legends of the town and wanted to see it for herself. She finds love, family and hope in the strangest of places.

Introduction

It all started with the first child, Chara. A child with a hopeful mind and love for the monsters. You see, Chara ran away from something on the surface. Though they never spoke about it, it was obvious it hurt them. Deeply. And the Dreemurs could tell, they would wake up screaming. Have moments where they just stared off into a corner of a room. But the Dreemurs still loved them, cared for them deeply. Especially Asriel, Charas adoptive brother.

Asriel and Chara played together, laughed together and were true siblings. Then one day, it all turned rotten. Chara went to the butter cup field and took a big handful, shoving the flowers down their throat. Leading to their death. This was developed by their own wriggling hate for humanity. They thought if they were to eat the flowers and give the soul to Asriel he could go to the surface and MURDER more children and take the souls to free the other monsters.

And he did just that he took the soul and escaped the underground. But since he was a child he couldn't bring himself to do it. And the humans still attacked him. Asriel crawled back to the underground and died in his fathers arm. The death of both of his beloved children fueled King Dreemurs own hate and dangerous plan. Dooming the future children that accidentally end up in the underground.

CHAPTER ONE

Frisk was a curious teenager and loved adventure. She lost both of her parents tragically in a car wreck but that didn't stop her from moving forward, shedding light wherever she went. Her foster parents loved her, they took great pride taking care of the teen until a suited family came to adopt her. But Frisk knew that it'd be a long time for that, most people want to adopt babies so they can raise them as their own. Which frisk didn't mind that, in her eyes babies were still a priority. She was lucky enough to find such loving foster parents but not everyone is as lucky.

It was one morning day, Frisk had woken up groggy. As she sat up, she wiped the crust from her eyes and swung her feet over the bed. Her toes touching the soft pink rug. She felt extra exhausted this morning, last night she stayed up until early in the morning researching about the legend on the mountain. Frisks plan for today was the hike up the mountain and see if the legends were true.

She reached out like a limp noodle and grabbed her robe. Wrapping it around her torso before standing up, moving her hands to her back she stretched out her body and heard.. CRACK! Frisk let out a loud sigh and relief went down her legs. Shuffling her feet across the hardwood floor, she stepped into her white slippers.

Then she smelt it, her foster mom was cooking up breakfast. And a loud grumble escaped her stomach causing her to groan and rub it. “Food…” She mumbled out like a zombie looking for brains.

Reaching out she opened her bedroom door and made her way down the hallway until she entered the dining room. Her eyes laid onto a nice platter of food. Toast, Bacon, Eggs, Fruit and pancakes. “Oh yeah that's the stuff..” She spoke before taking a seat in front of her foster dad.

“Well good morning sleeping zombie.” The Foster dad slyly spoke, with a little chuckle in his tone. Frisk really liked her foster dad, he was funny and always had the wisdom around him. She showed a tired smile, “Goodmorning..” She whispered out.

“So what are your big plans today?? I heard you up last night, and that usually means you have an adventure in miiiind..” Her foster dad spoke again, he watched Frisk grab some Bacon and pancakes before dowsing it in syrup.

“I was researching the legends on the mountain, I plan to go up there and see what all the fuss is about.” Frisk said before taking a big bite into the pancake.

“The mountain? Oh you mean about the monsters? Yeah, my parents used to scare me with that. I think it was to stop the kids from going up there and getting lost.” He stated, almost like he was having a flashback to a distant memory of his parents. “But if you go there you have to be very careful. That mountain has a lot of unexplored caves. So it can be dangerous.”

Before they knew it Frisk was already finished with her food. She stood up and wiped her mouth clean. “Yeahh yeahh, I will be, I promise. I've never gotten lost before!” She stated triumphantly. Striking a pose of a muscle man. Only causing her foster dad to laugh at her behavior and shake his head.

Frisk made her way back to her room, she rushed getting ready. She was now wide awake and excited to make her way up the mountain. The foster parents could hear the banging and things being tossed around before Frisk rushed out her bedroom door and down the hallway. Slipping on her shoes and shouting out into the house, “I'm off now!! Thanks for the breakfast!” She shouted before running out and into her backyard. Up to the tree line and vanishing into the forest.

While traveling up the mountain, she noticed the forest became denser and the trails became tangled. At a point on the mountain she had to pick up and stick and use it to get around all the rocks, veins and roots all around her. At a certain point she had been walking for hours, and saw nothing. “Awe mannn…” She sighed out, rubbing her forehead and stood there stumped. “I really wanted to see at least something!” She shouted out, with her arms above her head. Frisk looked down and defeat and let her arms dangle beside her.

It was getting dark now, Frisk knew her parents would start to worry so she decided she would come back tomorrow and try the other side of the mountain. Turning around she started to make her way down the mountain. But it was strange.

Everywhere she turned, nothing looked the same. Frisk could swear she was going back the same way she came. Deeper down she went, the more lost she felt. And then she stumbled into an opening. Right in the middle was a gaping hole, and she remembered what her foster dad said. “The mountain has a lot of unexplored caves,So it can be dangerous .”

But Frisk was curious, something about this opening was drawing her to it. Making her way to the opening she looked down into it. The sun was setting over the tree lines. It was dark and she couldn't see that far into it.

Something seems to wrap around her foot. She looked down and saw a vein, “wha-” Was all frisk could get out before she felt something shove her back and sending her down into the cave. She could feel herself falling and the panic made her black out mid fall.

Then she woke up. Frisk sat up and rubbed her face, her hair had so many twigs and leaves in it. And her clothes were all dirty from the hike and fall. Looking down she saw these beautiful yellow flowers all around her in a circle. “This must of cushioned my fall..” She mumbled out before standing up. Wiping off her shorts and shirt. Frisk looked around and saw in the distance a lit up hallway.

Taking a step out of the flower patch she weakly made her way towards the hallway, gripping onto the side of the wall to help her stand. While the lights guided her down the hallway, there were many tunnels.

After a while her knees buckled again, causing her to fall down. She was tired, beaten up from the fall and most of all thirsty and hungry. Then she fell down onto her side, passing out in the process.

Waning in and out of concussions, she heard a woman's voice. It was soft and warm, like a blanket on a cold day. “Oh my child… What happened to you??” But Frisk could not return a voice to the kind gesture. Her eyesight was blurry, and it felt like she just kept falling asleep.

Frisk could feel herself being picked up, and she reached over and felt cloth and fur. She opened her eyes a little and saw white and purple plumped together. Before passing out again. Frisk was being carried to who knows where, inside a cave that she had no idea where it was. But still she felt safe in this person's arms.

Later that.. what she assumed was morning? She woke up to the smell of apple pie and water sitting on the bed stand beside her. Setting up, she looked around the room. It looked like she was in a house, more importantly a children's room. There were two beds, she was in the lime green one and the other bed was dark green. ‘Was I rescued?’ She thought to herself.

Reaching over she grabbed the plate of apple pie and scarfed it down. Along with the water. Frisk felt restored, like she could hope out of the bed perfectly fine.

Getting up from the bed, the girl made her way to the bedroom door and opened it. There was a smell of apple pie all throughout the house. And also smelt like flowers.

Down the hallway Frisk went as she looked curiously at decorations displayed. It reminded her of someone's grandmother's home. Then she made her way down the stairs, in the room in front of her she could hear someone sipping tea and swiping through pages of a book.

Stepping inside the room she looked over and saw. A goat? A woman? She stood there in shock as Frisk's eyes laid upon this goat woman. “Woah.” Was all Frisk got out as the goat woman herself jumped as if Frisk startled her. “Oh my child! You gave me a fright!!” She said, holding her chest. Frisk looked like a deer in headlights, this goat woman in front of her just spoke. And it sounded like the voice that saved her in the cave. So she is still in the cave. And that means. The legends were true.

Frisk face lit up, she had so many questions. She wanted to know so much, but before she could get a word out the woman spoke. “My name is Tori.. What is your name child.” Frisk almost forgot her manners. “My name is Frisk.. Where are we??”

Tori smiled before standing up, the woman was VERY tall. “We are in my house, down in the cave tunnels..”

Frisk nodded in response to her. Then Tori spoke again, “I only have one rule here, you can explore the tunnels and learn about my fellow monsters here. But you can not go down stairs.”

This confused Frisk, the adventure side of her wanted to come out. ‘What's downstairs??’ Was all she could think as she watched Tori head into the kitchen.

Then she had the feeling again, like she felt at the entrance of the cave. Before she knew it her footsteps just started to move, making her towards the down stairs. Looming over the stairs, they took a step. Then another, then another. The bottom of the stairs was dark, like an echo of the past. When they got to the bottom, they saw a door and used all her might to shove it open. Forcing her way into another deeper hallway. It looked like ruins, these beautifully detailed beams that were semi collapsed were holding up the hall.

Each foot step Frisk took echoed down the hallway. Then she heard another's footsteps, it was Tori. Tori quickly grabbed Frisk's hands to pull her back to the house. “Come child! I told you not to come down here.” Tori spoke with worry and sadness.

While Tori was guiding her back Frisk pulled her hand back and quietly started to walk back. Like she was hypnotized with curiosity. Tori quickly walked in front of Frisk and held her hands out. “Child you can stay here with me, you don't want to go there!” Tori spoke out with sorrow.

This hurts Frisk's heart a little, Tori seemed lonely and sad. But also fearful. Still, Frisk continued to march on without a word.“I'll have to force you then!!” Tori shouted while getting into a fighting stance. Suddenly blue floating flames light up the tunnel. Frisk looked surprised and stepped back as the flames came at her.

Dodging each attack, but not fighting back. “Please! You don't have to do this Tori! Just let me go!”

Tori looked like her fighting spirit was slowly faltering as her attacks persisted. And Frisk noticed this, the attacks stopped being aimed at her. The flames could have hit her but just went around her.

“Please! Tori, don't do this! We can talk about it!”

Then it stopped, Tori looked at Frisk with defeat and sadness as soft tears went down her cheek. As she walked up and embraced Frisk. “It's okay, I'll be safe I promise.” Frisk whispered into the hug. Tory let go and stood up. “Then this is goodbye…”

Tori moved away from Frisk and walked past her, disappearing into the tunnel. Looking up Frisk saw a large door, with writing at the top. Though she couldn't understand it looked like an ancient language. Moving forward, she reached out pressing her palms onto the much colder concrete door. Then pushing. She pushed hard, it was heavy like it hadn't been opened for quite a while.

And she fell inside it was white, cold and she saw.. Snow?? Falling from the cave top. “How is it snowing inside??” She spoke softly, tucking her hands under her armpits to keep herself from getting frostbite.

Then she started to make her way through the snowy forest. Not knowing what would come next.

Chapter 2

[rainhadaenerys]

Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin

I wrote about this before, and I made an edit about this as well, but I wanted to write a separate post just for this topic because I think people really don't understand what "madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin" means. I see many people taking at face value that half of the Targaryens are mad and that Targaryens are ticking time bombs, and I also see other people criticizing GRRM for including the madness theme for the Targaryens, criticizing him for supposedly adding genetic determinism and stigmatizing mental illness. But I think both are missing the point.

The madness vs greatness theme is not about half of the Targaryens being mad or great (this isn't even accurate with what we're shown in the books, as very few Targaryens were mad). The madness and greatness theme wasn't introduced just to add some cool mythos to House Targaryen. The madness vs greatness theme is a commentary on what it takes to be great: madness. And it's a theme pertaining to Dany specifically.

The theme was introduced explicitly for the first time in a Dany's chapter, as something that is said TO Dany, right after she liberated three slave cities:

"I am no maester to quote history at you, Your Grace. Swords have been my life, not books. But every child knows that the Targaryens have always danced too close to madness. Your father was not the first. King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land." - Daenerys VI ASOS

In fact, this is the ONLY time in all the books in which the Targaryens are stated to be mad or great (sure, there are times where the books talk about the Mad King, or say that this or that Targaryen was mad, but this is the only moment in the books where the coin toss and the theme of madness vs greatness are explicitly mentioned). It's not something that is brought up several times or given much emphasis, it's something that appears only this time, and is only said to Dany.

And why is this concept introduced only to Dany, and at this moment? Because it's meant to be a thematic reflection on what she just did. Because what she did was MAD. To think that you have the power to defy an institution as ingrained as slavery, to think you have the power to make such a huge change in the world, and to actually attempt it, it's something that most people would consider madness. Because it's seen as an impossible thing, it's seen as crazy, it's seen as suicide. But that's exactly what greatness is: to do things that most people would consider madness.

And this theme doesn't even start in ASOS, it starts back in AGOT. The only reason Dany is even in a position to attempt to end slavery, is because she did a mad thing in the first place: walk into a pyre to hatch her dragons. And the narrative points this out several times:

"No. He cannot have my son." She would not weep, she decided. She would not shiver with fear. The Usurper has woken the dragon now, she told herself … and her eyes went to the dragon's eggs resting in their nest of dark velvet. The shifting lamplight limned their stony scales, and shimmering motes of jade and scarlet and gold swam in the air around them, like courtiers around a king.

Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, "Ser Jorah, light the brazier."

[...]

When the coals were afire, Dany sent Ser Jorah from her. She had to be alone to do what she must do. This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn, and it's so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet …

Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals. The black scales seemed to glow as they drank the heat. Flames licked against the stone with small red tongues. Dany placed the other two eggs beside the black one in the fire. As she stepped back from the brazier, the breath trembled in her throat. - Daenerys VI AGOT

~

She could feel the eyes of the khalasar on her as she entered her tent. The Dothraki were muttering and giving her strange sideways looks from the corners of their dark almond eyes. They thought her mad, Dany realized. Perhaps she was. She would know soon enough. If I look back I am lost. - Daenerys X AGOT

~

As she climbed down off the pyre, she noticed Mirri Maz Duur watching her. "You are mad," the godswife said hoarsely.

"Is it so far from madness to wisdom?" Dany asked. - Daenerys V AGOT

When Dany says she is determined to conquer Westeros, even though it seems impossible for someone who has nothing, she is called mad:

"I mean to sail to Westeros, and drink the wine of vengeance from the skull of the Usurper." She scratched Rhaegal under one eye, and his jade-green wings unfolded for a moment, stirring the still air in the palanquin.

A single perfect tear ran down the cheek of Xaro Xhoan Daxos. "Will nothing turn you from this madness?"

"Nothing," she said, wishing she was as certain as she sounded. - Daenerys III ACOK

Later, when Dany ends slavery, people call her mad for it, for daring to challenge an institution that is seen as the right order or things:

"I have a gift for you as well." She slammed the chest shut. "Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters' possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?"

"I say, you are mad." - Daenerys IV ASOS

~

Xaro caught it in the air and took a bite. "Whence came this madness? Should I count myself fortunate that you did not free my own slaves when you were my guest in Qarth?" - Daenerys III ADWD

And we also see people looking at Dany as if she is mad when she approaches the sick Astapori, because this is something people consider to be very dangerous:

By the time Aggo returned with Grey Worm and fifty of the Unsullied loping behind his horse, Dany had shamed all of them into helping her. Symon Stripeback and his men were pulling the living from the dead and stacking up the corpses, while Jhogo and Rakharo and their Dothraki helped those who could still walk toward the shore to bathe and wash their clothes. Aggo stared at them as if they had all gone mad, but Grey Worm knelt beside the queen and said, "This one would be of help." - Daenerys VI ADWD

That's what the madness vs greatness theme is about. It's not about how half of the Targaryens are great and half are crazy. It's about how to be great you have to be mad (not in the clinical sense, like the ASOIAF fandom thinks, but in the sense that you have to do things most people would consider mad). That's the whole point of the theme and it's why it’s been applied only to Dany's character so far: she is an extraordinary person, someone who would DARE to do something that most people would consider impossible and mad. And even GRRM points this out in his interview:

The whole point of the scene in A Game of Thrones where Daenerys hatches the dragons is that she makes the magic up as she goes along; she is someone who really might do anything. (source)

Finally, I just want to mention that Aegon the Conqueror, who is considered to be the greatest Targaryen for conquering Westeros, was also called mad for this:

“A bold plan,” Grand Maester Orwyle said cautiously, when he heard it. Mushroom prefers “madness,” but adds, “they called Aegon the Dragon mad when he spoke of conquering all Westeros.” - Fire and Blood

[nihonnojihifukainomajonoseiiki]

I made a blackberry and blueberry cheesecake to honor Hecate.

This cheesecake’s layers and colors reflect the hidden mysteries that Hecate guards, making it an ideal dessert for honoring her.

Ingredients

Crust:

1 ½ cups chocolate graham cracker crumbs

¼ cup unsalted butter, melted

A pinch of sea salt (for purification)

Cheesecake filling:

3 (8-ounce) packages of cream cheese, softened

1 cup granulated sugar

3 large eggs

1 cup sour cream

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 cup fresh blackberries

½ cup fresh blueberries

2 tbsp honey

Purple glaze:

½ cup blackberry juice (strain fresh blackberries or use blackberry juice concentrate)

2 tbsp blueberry juice (for a deeper purple color)

2 tbsp sugar

1 tbsp cornstarch mixed with 1 tbsp cold water

Garnish:

Fresh blackberries and blueberries

Fresh rosemary sprigs (symbolizing wisdom and remembrance)

Instructions

Prepare the crust:

Preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C) and grease a 9-inch springform pan.

In a mixing bowl, combine the chocolate graham cracker crumbs, melted butter, and sea salt.

Press the mixture firmly into the bottom of the pan to form an even layer. Bake for 10 minutes, then let it cool.

2. Make the cheesecake filling:

In a large bowl, beat the softened cream cheese and sugar until smooth.

Add eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition.

Add the sour cream and vanilla extract and beat until smooth.

In a blender, blend the blackberries and blueberries with honey until smooth. Strain to remove seeds if desired.

Fold half of the berry puree into the cheesecake mixture for a marbled effect.

Pour the mixture into the crust.

3. Bake the cheesecake:

Bake for 50-60 minutes, until the center is just set and slightly jiggly.

Turn off the oven, crack the door, and let the cheesecake cool in the oven for an hour to prevent cracking.

Remove from the oven and cool completely, then refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight.

4. Prepare the purple glaze:

In a small saucepan, combine the blackberry juice, blueberry juice, and sugar over medium heat.

Add the cornstarch mixture and cook, stirring continuously, until thickened to a glaze consistency.

Let the glaze cool to room temperature.

5. Assemble the cheesecake:

Pour the glaze over the cooled cheesecake and gently spread it to the edges.

6. Garnish:

Decorate with fresh blackberries, blueberries, and fresh sprigs of rosemary on top, to evoke the colors and essence of Hecate.

7. Serve:

Refrigerate the cheesecake for at least 4 hours or overnight to set completely.

Slice and serve the cheesecake by candlelight during a nighttime gathering, to honor Hecate.

[questionsonislam]

Why does Allah give people so much hardship like torture, cruelty, brutality, disability, blindness and rape?

Answer 1:

“That which is on earth we have made but as a glittering show for the earth, in order that We may test them - as to which of them are best in conduct. Verily what is on earth we shall make but as dust and dry soil (without growth or herbage)." (al-Kahf, 7-8)

As it is stated in the verses above and similar verses, the world is exactly a testing place. This is a complete test. The deeds and outcomes we evaluate originate from this environment of testing. In this environment of testing, a believer or an unbeliever is not given a privileged position. Sad things and joyful things exist together.

What is bad is not the possibility of doing bad deeds but doing bad deeds itself. For instance, a person’s being fair and just is understood when he has the opportunity to be cruel and to oppress but he does not do so.

Therefore, in a world where only opportunities to do good deeds are present, doing good deeds is not regarded as something valuable. When we consider all of the grades of good and beautiful, honesty and justice, it is clear that there will also be the opposites of them. The point that needs to be judged at this point is people’s misusing their ability to do endless good deeds, and doing bad deeds instead.

There are so many good and charitable servants of Allah. The existence of these good servants in terms of quality is also the cause of the creation of this world of testing. In other words, many people make themselves bad in this test, and many people display the good things in themselves thanks to this test.

However, Allah states that with His mercy He will grant boons that will please in their eternal life those who are oppressed and wronged in this test

What we need to do is to surrender to the divine mercy and to wait for the great day of religion. On this great day, the one who is punished will be punished fully and the one who is rewarded will be rewarded fully.

This worldly life may be a short life but since that person denies his Lord, who is eternal, his denial necessitates eternal punishment. Similarly, in this short life, a person who accepts and believes in his Lord attains eternal mercy.

Answer 2:

Man was created in a nature that tends to develop and change like a nucleus and an egg; his rank is not fixed like angels and animals. The conditions, circumstances and situations that will trigger and activate this development in man were necessary.

The development of an egg that is a candidate to be a bird and a seed that is a candidate to be a tree cannot develop everywhere and in all circumstances. The egg needs to remain under a chicken or an environment like that of a chicken.  

A seed needs the environment under the soil. Otherwise, they will rot and be destroyed.

Can it be regarded as a torture for a seed to be thrown into the ground, buried in the darkness, to crack as a result of being given water so that it will be transformed into a tree and to have the blessings such as leaves, flowers, fruits, tastes, smells and colors? No sane person can say that it is wrong for the seed and that it is not in compliance with wisdom and mercy.

So, a suitable environment is required for a seed to be a tree,

Similarly, there is a need for an environment so that man will reveal the ores in his nature. This environment is the life in the world. Man’s nature, which could not develop in Paradise, was sent to the world, which has the conditions that will enable him to develop.

Such an environment was necessary for man to show which one of the positive or negative features potentially placed in his nature he would prefer. Otherwise, the ranks of human beings would be fixed like those of the angels and animals; They would not have the ability to ascend and descend.

It is clear what a great blessing and mercy is for man to be buried in the earth so that these great and endless blessings will be revealed.

[ghostchems]

How about "one more kiss, please?" + goodbye kiss w/ Terzo 💙

i am in my feels these days…

You have been dreading this day for some time now. Sleep had evaded you all night but you tried to be careful not to toss and turn, only to end up laying on your back and staring at the ceiling while your thoughts ran wild. The sun peeks into the room through the curtains and you turn your head slowly with a sigh. You feel him start to stir beside you and he gives a soft groan.

Terzo’s arm slips around your waist and pulls you in close, his nose brushing against your neck up to your ear. You place your hands on top of his arm and give another sigh, this one more content than the last. He nibbles on your ear and tightens his grasp around you.

“Good morning, amore.” Terzo purrs sleepily. “Ah, I wish I could just lay here with you all day.” He presses a few sloppy kisses to your neck and you can’t hold back a quiet giggle.

“I wish you could, too.” You roll over onto your other side so you can face him. It’s impossible not to smile and he looks like this — his hair unruly and falling into his paintless face and his lips are curled in a sleepy grin. Terzo’s soft hand rests on your cheek and he gently strokes it with his thumb. Mornings like these are what you’re going to miss the most.

He nibbles on your nose and gives it a small kiss before he’s out of bed and off to the bathroom. You wait until you hear the shower running to jump into action, climbing out of bed and putting your robe on. You leave your quarters and head down to the commissary to grab his breakfast. Terzo typically ate in the commissary, surrounded by his admirers and ghouls but this morning you are being selfish. You want him all to yourself.

You bring his breakfast back (sunny side up eggs and toast) and start to set the small table in your quarters. It’s not long before Terzo emerges from the bathroom, his hair already immaculate and his paint crisp. His robe is almost completely undone and you can’t help but ogle at his tight briefs. A wide smile slowly spreads across his face as he realizes his breakfast is ready.

“You are spoiling me this morning, amore.” Terzo runs his fingers through his hair as he takes a seat at the table.

“Spoiling? I am just being nice.” You smile and he gives a soft laugh.

The rest of the morning ends up flying by and suddenly you’re outside of the abbey as the ghouls load onto the tour bus. Your stomach is in knots as you watch Terzo say goodbye to his admirers and friends, offering words of wisdom. He settles in front of you and you can feel everyone’s attention shift to the two of you. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his check.

“Go get’em, Popestar.” You whisper and his arms immediately wrap tightly around you.

“One more kiss, per favore. Please.” He sounds like he really needs it and his warm eyes meet yours. You lean in and kiss him, and he melts against your lips, his own moving expertly against yours. You part your lips and slip your tongue inside his mouth and he groans at the taste of you. The feeling of passion and longing in the kiss makes your heart flutter.

Terzo pulls away, hovering close to you for a moment and you feel his breath on your lips. He brings his hand up to stroke at your cheek and then ghosts his fingers over your lips.

“I will miss you.” His voice is low and it cracks only slightly. You nod, unable to even speak because of the intense emotion you’re feeling. Terzo kisses you again, a quick little peck and he thumbs at your cheek. He gives a soft sigh when he pulls away and gives you a small squeeze before he leaves you to board the tour bus.

You watch as the bus pulls away but you still feel warm from his embrace.

[cutepresea]

Posting about Shirabe Meshi bonus pages from the currently released volumes since there's no new chapter this month (it'll be back next month along with volume 4's release)

I'll do separate posts for each volume, this post being for volume 1's

So first off, there's the one on the cover under the sleeve

It starts near the end of G, when Nastassja used the moon's systems to fix its orbit

And then she died...or did she? (Of course not, this is the official Everyone Lived AU)

[Heartbeat confirmed]

[Fully committing wheelchair's remaining output to life support. Commencing preservation mode.]

Later, during the space shuttle rescue:

Afterward, she tells them that she was saved because there was "clean air" (referencing a line of Maria's in XV that gets memed a lot by the Japanese fandom)

The pages after each chapter:

Chapter 1's has Millaarc changing to her Tiny Bat form in order to fill herself with less food and she gets smacked by the owner of Flower who thinks she's a large bug

Chapter 2, Kirika is really hungry but Shirabe doesn't have time to caramelize onions like she did for the curry this chapter, so she puts chopped onions on a paper towel lined plate and wraps it, microwaves them for 3 minutes, then puts them in the pan for 10 ("if you're having too much trouble, pre-made packets of curry are fine")

Chapter 3 has Hibiki and Miku in the bath. Hibiki is happily talking about cold baths in the summer heat and poor Miku is freezing. It's labeled as "the night she took things too far" (in chapter 3, Hibiki blamed herself for Miku getting sick saying she "took things too far the other night")

Chapter 4 has art of Chris labeled "Hot blooded teacher version for when grades are poor"

Chapter 5...okay my previous post for chapter 5 didn't go into detail because that was when my wisdom teeth hurt so bad I had to get them removed so just know Tsubasa got Shirabe's help to cook yakisoba on Fudou's television program.

It says that after that, the show got renewed as a series where Fudou acts as assistant to a young girl, but instead of actually helping cook, he just causes problem after problem. It became a big hit in living rooms everywhere. Little by little, he eventually gets better at doing things like cracking eggs and the viewers have started to warm up to him

(note that his original show comes back in a later chapter and then gets bought and canceled by Adam who then starts his own show)

Chapter 6 is a picture of Serena in her school uniform (with the Nephilim) that says "looking forward to school"

The bonus manga at the end:

Shirabe is staring at Kirika, as she does, and her "passionate gaze" is "making (Kirika's) heart throb" 😂

But then...

"Kiri-chan's head...reminds me of something..."

"But the way Shirabe's staring at me reminds me of something..."

"A SHOEBILL"

[himitsusentaiblog]

Japanese Media that Helped Me Come Out

Hey, I wanted to make a post about the shows and movies from Japan that really helped me come to terms with my identity and made me more comfortable with coming out (even if I had a few early aborted comings out before I had real support). Before I begin, a special shoutout has to be given to Ranma 1/2, the first anime I ever saw that involved gender changing content.

I think one of the first foundationally important bits of media for me was Sailor Moon, the original animated series. Or more specifically season 5, Bishouji Senshi Sailor Moon Sailor Stars. This is a series I watched shortly after the episodes aired in four episode blocks at a time on rented VHS tapes from a local Japanese Electronics Store in Dallas, Texas. (R.I.P. Orbit Electronics).

For those not familiar with the series, this season introduces three major new heroic characters, the Sailor Starlights. In their civilian identities they are a boys idol group called The Three Lights and go by the names Seiya, Yaten and Taiki but in their heroic identities they are three women named Sailor Star Fighter, Sailor Star Healer and Sailor Star Maker.

The idea of three women hiding themselves in the guise of men was so fascinating to me and spoke to something deep down inside of me. This may be the reason why Sailor Stars is the series I decided to purchase on Laserdisc back when it was coming out.

The second major anime series from this time that was foundational for my exploration of who I am was 1997's Shoujo Kakumei Utena.

This is a series all about defying societal expectations especially of gender roles and sexuality. It's an amazing if sometimes very couched in metaphor and symbolism coming of age story about a young woman who refuses to conform to her expected role and seeks to become a Prince to defend others. It also contains dialogue like this:

Which, if you are familiar with Trans terminology just holds so much extra meaning. For those who do not know, trans people who have not come out yet are often referred to as eggs, as in they have not come out of their shell yet. Lastly is probably both the most obvious and most ridiculous entry here. the 1999 Rock and Roll, Zombie, Alien Invasion film Wild Zero. This is a movie about the rock band Guitar Wolf, their biggest fan Ace and a zombie apocalypse started by aliens (think Plan 9 from Outer Space but somehow even more wild and ridiculous and with an amazing soundtrack). In the movie, Ace meets and falls in love with a beautiful girl named Tobio.

However, as Ace discovers, Tobio has a penis. This causes him to have a bit of a crisis until his idol, Guitar Wolf appears before him in a bathroom to bestow these words of wisdom upon him.

So yeah, this movie helped me in some very strange ways when it came to accepting who I really am, even if it took YEARS for me to finally crack my shell for real and come out publicly. So, thanks for reading this and thanks for all of your support.

[realcleverscience]

I am obsessed with "Dr. Stone"

Background: Dr. Stone is an anime about a reality in which all humans on earth are suddenly turned to stone. Civilization is gone, and most of its remains slowly decay and disappear as eons go by. After around 3,000 years, the protagonist, Senku, is suddenly reborn; we find that he cracks out of his stone statue form, like a chick cracking through its egg. The world he finds is described as a world of stone: Human stone statues are still everywhere, but more importantly, the world is similar to how it was in the stone age: plants, rocks, and nature. No real science or technology to speak of. The essence of the show is about Senku's attempt to rebuild a scientific civilization from scratch, while fighting off those who'd prefer a more brute-force, Neanderthal-like approach to life.

What I love: In ancient times, it was common to personify and deify various cultural values, such as truth (Roman goddess Veritas), justice (Lady Justice, or Justitia), and Wisdom/science (Egyptian god Thoth; Greek goddess Athena).

Today, these gods are gone. And with them, the culture and allegorical stories that inspired veneration for the values and ideas they represented.

One of the things that I love about Dr. Stone is that it's a modern day ode to science. It's a romantic vision of the wonders and potential of science, which is all around us today but vastly underappreciated and often misunderstood. It helps us see the magic of science by more easily envisioning a world without it - the world which science did in fact conquer through our actual, real history. It more easily allows us to marvel at the technologies we developed - like soap, light bulbs, and glass - using such primitive materials as wood, water, and stone.

And yes, it's just a show. It's not always 100% scientifically, historically, or technologically accurate, but it manages to convey the main ideas, and again, offers a beautiful metaphor.