#dissimulation childe

[roseodelle]

First Impressions - Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Summary: Your first excursion away from the Autumn Court to sit in on the High Lord’s meeting doesn’t go without a hitch.

Word Count: 2782

Warnings: Angry Azriel, Eris’s dumb mouth, Violence

Masterlist

“Keep your head high. Keep your mouth shut.” Eris straightens the collar of your coat, choking down his apprehension. Mother hen. “Don’t make eye contact and do not engage. Only speak if you’re spoken to and whatever you do, do not antagonize the Night Court.” You roll your eyes, removing his hand from your collar to hold it gently in your own. You soothe him, meeting his worried eyes with your own. 

“You worry too much, brother.”

“I do not worry nearly enough, sister.” He pulls his hand away from yours, instead placing it on your back to urge you forward toward the throne room. You’ll be leaving home today. For the first time ever. Sure, you’ve seen all there is to see in the Autumn Court, from the ports to the forests to the cities to the hovels. But you’d never visited another court, and you were overjoyed at the prospect. When your father told you that you’d be accompanying your family to the Dawn Court, it took all of your self-control to keep your excitement unknown.

“Who all will be there?” You quietly ask, ensuring your conversation remains unheard by your father's shadows. Eris first replies with a quick shake of his head, tightening his grip on your back to urge you faster.

“The High Lords and their immediate subjects. I’m not sure if Tamlin will be present. If he is, it’ll be a shitshow. Do not speak to him-” you cut him off.

“Do not speak to anyone; do not make eye contact with anyone; stay with mother. Yes, father.” He gently smacks the back of your head. You choke back a laugh, swinging out of his grip to smack his shoulder. 

“Don’t call me that.” He says, a boyish grin brightening his cheeks. Your own smile hurts your cheeks as you grab his hand in yours once more.

“Then fuss less. I’ll be good. I promise.” He gives your hand a tight squeeze before he releases you, taking steps to distance himself from you as the great entrance of the throne room comes into view. Before you can continue, you pause in step. Your mouth opens and closes, question like a stone on your tongue. Eris notices, of course, and halts his own movements.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and you give him a sad smile.

“Will Lucien be there?” You’d been so young when he’d fled. That night was the cause of a hundred years of nightmares. Nights that had been spent with Eris, silly stories and games keeping your mind from the horrors you’d witnessed as a child. You’d not seen Lucien since, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. Eris frowns, his shoulders drooping for a fraction of a second before he continues his pace toward the rest of your family.

“I’m not sure.” He whispers, and you remain silent for the rest of the short journey. Seconds before you step foot in the grand room, your perfected dissimulation slides into place. You’d been forced to charade since you were a babe, and you had the best teachers. You poke at your shield, ensuring it's in place, as you meet your mother's somber eye. 

Slipping next to her in effortless fashion, you watch as Eris takes his place next to your father. Your remaining brothers, Bastian and Alarik, stand at attention on either side of the High Lord and General, all mere steps ahead of you and your mother. Your father speaks, his voice harsh and slicing with finality, as he turns to meet your eye.

“Do not disappoint me, Y/n, or you will remain in this palace for another two hundred and fifty years.” And with that warning, you meet Eris’s eye once more as you slip out of Autumn and into Dawn. 

The Dawn Court could only be described as magnificent. Your mother holds your hand in a gentle grip as you arrive with the rest of your family on an angelic veranda. Your gaze rises first to cotton clouds teasing a periwinkle sky, wisps of pink and orange tinging their billowing edges. You stare into the sky for seconds, content to gaze forever, before the tightening grip of your mother's hand in yours draws your attention to the marble floor beneath you. Veins of deep black and pearlescent white mark the stone and lead into the grand palace and home of Thesan, the High Lord of Dawn. Pillars line the entrance and as your sight rises upon the sunstone facade, lavish balconies and stunning archways call your attention. It’s the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. And you've only been here for seconds. A great palace set upon a mountains peak. The stories you’d read and heard paled in comparison to the real thing. 

Your mother squeezes your hand once more, her thumb smoothing your skin with a gentle touch as she motions you forward. You follow as your family is led further into the palace by an attendant. Your mother's hand in yours is a gentle but firm reminder that this is not a visit for pleasure. You find Eris’s back, his posture rigid. If you could see his face, you knew you’d be met with the emotionless eyes and a facetious smirk he’d perfected over centuries of harshness. As you pass underneath another gilded archway, you feel your own facade slipping into place. He’d spent years teaching you how. You’d be damned if you let him down now. 

You can feel it the closer you get to the war room, the stronger the aura of pure power becomes. You feel it in your bones—a dangerous mix of pure disasterous magic that could only mean many powerful beings waited ahead. High Lords, you imagine all of them. Old and strong, it brings chills to your spine, and you throw needles against your own shield, ensuring it’s strength—a pity in comparison to the influence of those ahead. You feel a tinge of relief when you feel your father’s own shield expand to cover you and your mother. The smoky scent and warm touch of your High Lord’s magic offer the barest sense of relief.

Your father and Eris enter first, and as your remaining brothers follow behind, you catch a glimpse of evil grins on their faces. The tips of their too-white teeth are a nasty warning to those ahead.

“Enough.” You hear Eris command, and you know he speaks to keep Basitian and Alarik in check. Finally, you and your mother take a few final steps into the meeting chamber. You keep your head down as you’d promised him you would, your fingers tightening against her hand still in yours. Following her lead, you slide into a luxurious oak chair. Your gaze seeks Eris first, sitting just two seats away from you on the other side of your father, and your shoulders relax immediately as his empty eyes meet your own. He gives you a subtle nod, and you exhale softly, allowing your eyes to wander the rest of the room. It’s Lucien you now seek. When you fail to find his once-familiar deep red hair, you find your heart sinking into your chest. 

Instead, your gaze lands on dark swirling shadows, cognizant and conscious, surely whispering of every breath, every fidgeting movement of the inhabitants of the chamber, and every available secret to the master they surround in a dangerous cacoon. He’s beautiful, you think. Intelligent hazel eyes observe every person and shadow in the room, and dark hair rests in a perfect manner against his sharpened brow and tan cheekbones. Your eyes lower to his arms, large with chiseled muscle and marked by the swirling black ink of bargain tattoos and the lively shadows that surround him. You find his hands and feel tightness in your chest at the sight. Melted skin stretches against the veiny muscles and long fingers.

Burn scars, you know. You have your own, and you know how difficult it is to permanently scar a fae. You catch sight of his siphons, two deep blue ovals attached to the backs of his hands, held in place by dark gauntlets. Encased is pure power. But it’s his wings that halt the beating in your chest. Colossal, powerful, and simply incredible, the dark, scarred leather takes your breath away. Azriel, you think. Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court. You’d heard many stories about the lethal Illyrian male now in front of you, sitting just a few feet away from you. He sits across the table from Eris, and the deadly glare on his angled face brings a chill to your spine. 

“It’s no surprise that you’re tardy, given that your own sons were too slow to catch my mate. I suppose it runs in the family.” The High Lord of Night breaks the strained silence of the room, and you fight back the shiver at the pure power emanating from him. You subtly test the shield that surrounds your family, ensuring it still stands against his thrumming, dark power. Rhysand. He, too, is beautiful. Violet eyes sit underneath perfect dark brows, above cutting cheekbones. He meets your father’s ever-violent gaze, resting upon the Night Court’s concubine. Feyre. Unsurprisingly, she’s ethereally beautiful, with bright blue eyes and long golden hair. 

“Mate- and High Lady.” Beron finishes, lips in a tight curl as he examines the female ahead. Her power, too, is deeply emanative. The couple is deadly. They know it. You seek Eris once more, wishing to be near him. Wishing that it were his hand in yours instead of your mother's. Instead of meeting your gaze, he bares an amused smile across the table. Your eyes glance over the Morrigan, as beautiful as the stories painted her to be. Her history with Eris was disorganized, and you did not know every detail of what had come to pass. You had yet to be born when their forced betrothal ended violently, but he’d told you enough. He stares intently at the female sitting to the side of Feyre, with icy fire in her eyes and pale blonde hair. You do not recognize her, but her sharp gaze is deadly as she stares daggers back at your brother. Her anger is palpable, and you can surmise that this must be Nesta. 

When that certain glint shines in his amber eye, you find yourself tensing. You know that mischievous expression, and you know what often follows. This is not Eris, your best friend—your only friend. This is Eris, the asshole of the Autumn Court. Shit. You gently release your mother’s hand, ignoring the warning glance she gives you, preparing to act if he manages to create enough of a fit to require your assistance, regardless of your promise to behave.

“Pity you didn’t bring the other sister. I hear our little brother’s mate is quite the beauty.” At the mention of Lucien, your mother releases a quiet gasp. Eris had shared so little with you when it came to him. But he’d told you of Elain, and you knew he was toeing a dangerous line. It’s Morrigan who replies, with a smooth, frigidness in her melodic voice. 

“You still certainly like to hear yourself talk, Eris. Good to know some things don’t change over the centuries.” A wicked smile appears on his lips, and that glint in his eye is on fire. Fuck, you think. Fuck. Fuck. You found yourself wishing for the coveted ability of the daemati at this moment. To be able to claw your way into his mind and tell him to shut the fuck up before he could begin. But no. Instead, you watch with bated breath as he opens his damned mouth and chuckles to himself before he speaks.

“Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut.” You release an exasperated groan, and in the same second, the shield around you shudders and breaks with a pulse of deep blue light and powerful magic. The wood of Eris’s chair is shattered into pieces, and your brother is tackled to the ground. Azriel’s scarred hands are a tight vise around your brother’s throat. Within the same second, another shield is erected. Azriel’s own, deep blue and as strong as the one he’d torn down with no effort at all. You hear a muttered “shit” and “enough” from the other side of the table, and within the same breath, you’re standing with your sharpened emerald and obsidian dagger in hand. You make quick work of the resilient shield Azriel had erected, made of radiant blue magic. You catch sight of his siphons once more; only now can you see that the two on his hands are not alone. He wears five more. Eris, you fucking idiot.

You’re fast. You’re strong. And you know that you’d stand no chance against the giant Illyrian at any other time, but somehow, you manage to get the upper hand. You grasp his sturdy shoulder, rounding your dagger sharply to his neck. You dig in with enough pressure to catch his attention, drawing an immediate and steady stream of blood. You feel him still, muscled body impossibly still in your tight hold. You catch Eris’s eye over the Illyrian’s shoulder, and it’s almost comical—the mischievous and proud look of an asshole turning to a quick and sharp panic as he sees the position his baby sister put herself in to protect him. 

“Release him.” You command, but Azriel’s grip on your brother’s neck remains unbroken. You watch as his eyes begin to redden, vessels widening in a concerning manner. You look across the room, meeting the High Lord of Night’s wide eyes with determination in your own. You crack your own shield, the barrier that keeps your mind safe from the prying eye’s of daemati. The shield Eris had taught you to wield the moment you began to walk.

Recall your dog, or all three of us will die right here, right now. You speak loudly, ensuring your words make their mark. You dig your blade in deeper for good measure, milimeters away from his carotid, steady stream of blood thickening as it runs down his neck and drips onto your brother’s face. 

“Enough, Azriel.” Rhysand’s command is deep and unyielding and yet Azriel does not yield, instead digging his heavy knee into Eris’s stomach. You release your hand from his shoulder, instead opting to dig into his dark hair and pull tightly. Any deeper on his neck, and you knew all three of you would be dead. It’s your father who speaks next, apparently realizing the sensitivity of the situation at hand. 

“Call off your overgrown bat!” He growls, but Rhysand does not utter another command. Your heart beats roughly in your chest, and you allow your sharp fingernails to dig into said overgrown bat’s scalp. It has no effect. Your eyes bore into Eris’s over the bat’s shoulder, wide and panicked in a mirror of your own. 

“Come, Azriel.” It’s Feyre, now standing ahead of Rhysand with a hand outstretched toward the Ilyrian. You sigh in relief as he releases his deadly grip on Eris’s throat. He chokes heavily, inhaling deeply and shakily. You slowly pull your nails from Azriel’s scalp, releasing the tangle of hair from your shaking hand, before tentatively removing your dagger from his bleeding neck. He stands confidently, towering over you in height and with his giant wings.

“Come sit with me.” Feyre commands him, and you shudder in relief as he drops the impressive blue shield. He glances at you, dropping his eyes down and then ever so slowly back up, head tilted in menace, and you shiver under his heavy gaze. Finally, he takes steady strides away from you, and you reach to pull Eris from the ground. His slender and toned body falls heavily against your side as you slowly walk him back toward your family. You pass the shattered chair he once sat in, leading him toward your own seat.

“What have you done?” He near silently whispers, his voice terribly hoarse as he leans in close, ensuring that you’re not overheard. 

“Our deal was off the moment you antagonized the Night Court.” You whisper back, and he tightens his grip on your shoulder.

“Beron will punish you for this.” You drop him into your chair, your mother taking his hand in hers underneath the table. 

“No punishment could be worse than watching you die.” He reaches to squeeze your hand, releasing you as you step back, standing obediently a step behind him. You can feel your father’s gaze on you; his ire is already a burning hand upon your back.

8/13 update: this will remain as a one shot. I wrote and posted a pt 2 but I wasn't happy with it so as of now, I've taken it down. I'm sorry :(

[mskenway97]

I've been wanting to write this for a long time and with the skills this character has, I've been itching to write this.

ROTB Mirage x Fem!human!reader

Cap 2

Curious cat

Words: 1.506

Summary: You started noticing something strange in your neighborhood, while you were watching something weird. You decided to investigate it to find some surprise.

Warning: g/t content, g/t fearplay

You've been saving money for a long time, working hard… Living in New York was expensive, but it was your dream since you were a little girl, the city of opportunity. For now you had started in a waitressing job, the hours were horrible, the bosses didn't treat you the way you wanted but it was the best you could do until one of the interviews gave you the job you wanted. You came home late, the nights were pretty quiet and you had to be alert for anything. You were always taught to be cautious, to say that living alone had a risk but you thought it was better to take a chance, you never knew what you might find along the way. You had heard all the time of urban legends: monsters, shadows that took you away. "Nonsense" you thought every time they mentioned it, you may be from the village but it doesn't mean that because you are from the village you believe in those unfounded legends. Although today while you were working, you had heard a couple of customers talking about a ghost car, you laughed when you heard it and tried to dissimulate. "People should focus on real problems not urban legends" you thought as you packed up to go home. The way though you kept thinking about what the customers talked about. A ghost car… You couldn't get that legend out of your mind even as you went to sleep, I'm sure you'd get over that thought tomorrow. But it didn't happen that way, every time you heard more and more about that car, something that made you more and more curious, you had a big defect, when in your mind there was an idea that didn't disappear until you found out what was going on.

Until one day you decided to investigate all the rumors that were going around: you had gathered that it appeared only at night (as in all legends or horror stories), it was always found in abandoned parking lots, it was a gray car with blue racing stripes… "I lack more information there is something that does not fit me in all this …. And the people who have found it? Or something else?" you thought while looking at the notebook of notes about what could be that mysterious vehicle. The following days were spent asking the supposed "people" who had seen that car… All the words they said were not credible: that it disappeared in front of their noses, suddenly they saw three cars instead of one… others said they saw a giant figure… This last one already seemed ridiculous to you from everything you had heard, what was going to be next, an alien? Absurd. Although if I found a good story I could give you some more credibility and help anything or maybe you were fixated on an idea that was impossible… Here's to making your life a little more dynamic. The bad thing is that you would never know where that car was, it did not keep a fixed position, so in order to find it you decided to ask someone who would surely know about the car. Reek was a man who knew more about robberies than anything else, but if there was any information about that car he would surely know something about it. So you met up with him in a neighborhood in Brooklyn while he came in smiling:

The man was always walking around with a licorice in his mouth, he was more cooperative after I told him you would give him some dough.

-Girl, are you sure about what you're going to do? Some of my colleagues were looking for that "ghost car" - said Reek while showing a picture of the car.

You took a better look at the picture and it matched the descriptions that everyone you had asked matched. You were more interested in the make of the car? You had wanted a car like this since you were a child, in fact you were saving up to buy one for yourself.

-Just give me a location, Reek, and I'll give you the dough. I'm sure it's nothing. Plus you know how to avoid the cameras, right? - you said as you were pulling out some bills Reek rubbed his hands together.Well if you give me a little extra I'll even deactivate them…

-Just this or I'll tell everyone you're stealing cable TV… Reek was a little offended to hear it and rectified what he said to you. He gave you everything you needed. This time it was in a parking lot not far from the residential area, but the neighborhood was not very well known… That's why it was guarded. The idea was that Reek would create a blackout while you went inside. It seemed like a perfect idea and the sooner you figured out what that car was, the calmer it would put your mind at ease. Finally the night you were waiting for came, Reek had left you a place where you could turn off the power, it didn't seem too difficult, you just had to lower some switches but when you arrived you saw that they were already down.

But instead of running away you decided to enter, seeing that the doors were open, the parking lot was in a closed place that did not even have a guard, only people took advantage of it to leave their vehicles "for free". You approached carefully, you hid among the cars to see a group of thieves approaching the car. Everything seemed normal until you saw that it had disappeared in front of them, not only that the lights had gone out around it, to show the same car several times and repeated all this all the time until the thieves ran away. If you didn't see it you wouldn't believe it, it was really happening as all those people were saying. You stayed in your position while you stood up and heard a voice in your ear:

-You thought I didn't see you? You jumped back to see that the car you were leaning against was the grey car you were all looking for, you quickly ran to another part of the parking lot that seemed to be more isolated while breathing heavily.-You're making it too easy for me, girl…. You jumped again to see the same car next to you, your face went blank as you saw that gray car. You were trying to react, you ran away from it.

-Come on, I'm not that scary… Come here little girl - said the giant gray being. You were thinking it was a dumbbell as you were hiding under a car. Suddenly you heard silence all around you, except for the watch you were wearing.

Tick,Tick No matter how hard you ran… You felt its presence all the time, playing with your mind… You had only one word in your mind: run away…

But running away to where your mind was racing, your heart felt like it was going to burst then you heard some big footsteps around you.

-Come out wherever you are, girl? No matter where you hide… I'm going to find you - said that giant robot while you saw him walking away from you to another floor of the parking lot. You didn't think about it and picked up your cell phone to see that the car where you were hiding was lifted as if nothing by that gray robot, you tried to run again to stumble and find three of them. You were completely surrounded, while one of them picked you up and made the rest of them disappear, you tried to move but he was holding you in his servo as if nothing. You were completely terrified trembling… completely at their mercy. The giant gray robot pinched you on the cheek.

I have to say, of all the humans I've seen… I found you the most curious. At least you didn't faint or run away. You've got some guts. You were trying to get away from his touch but he had too much strength to dodge it, you're literally like a doll in his hands.

-Let me go! Possessed car! - you said as the robot laughed at the sound.

-Possessed car? Come on, my name is Mirage… I don't want to let you go yet," he said as he transformed into a car while leaving you on the seat.

-Let go of me! Let go of me! - you said as you kicked everything you could.

I'm sorry, curious kitty… I can't see if Optimus will let me stay with you. I'll take good care of you," said the car as it pulled away to a location.

You tried to kick more but it was impossible, your curiosity had led you to a moment you never expected. To the mercy of a giant being that saw you as its kitten. Curiosity caught the cat.

[asterical-archives]

genshin impact | 原神 dividers by @cafekitsune

back to asterrical's personal faves ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ masterlist

Traveler . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

goodnight world by @intothegenshinworld

sagau masterlist by @intothegenshinworld

genshin au masterlist by @primofate

★彡 🄷🅈🄳🅁🄾 彡★

kamisato ayato | head of the kamisato clan

an unexpected replacement by @genshinology

ajax | tartaglia | childe | 11th of the fatui harbingers

dissimulation, part 2, part 3 by @teabutmakeitazure

i've known you fondly for many nights by @pochipop

primum non nocere by @justherefortheride-ismoving

digital heart by @that-foul-legacy-lover

the day the ocean erupted by @that-foul-legacy-lover

★彡 🄲🅁🅈🄾 彡★

wriothesley | lord of the fortress of meropide

lunch break by @earthtooz

★彡 🄰🄽🄴🄼🄾 彡★

wanderer | scaramouche | kunikuzushi

wanderer comes with you on a job. things are likely to go up in smoke. by @thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch

of scary dog privileges & matcha lattes by @mayaree-darling

you're a pain in the neck (literally) by @xiaowhore

a porcelain heart by @papiliotao

kaedehara kazuha | the wandering samurai

in which kazuha loses his sight, slowly by @dreamsofteyvat

★彡 🄳🄴🄽🄳🅁🄾 彡★

alhaitham | the scribe of sumeru

the withers and woes of a little fawn heart by hwaitham (sadly deactivated acc)

alhaitham x fem!reader (atonement fountain scene inspired) by @ladadiida

on the complexities of relationships and words by @vivalabunbun

there are nothing but flowers by @vivalabunbun

the mad scholar by teapartyspilled (sadly deactivated acc)

friend-zoned by @mimi-cee-genshin

how to woo the acting grand sage 101 by @baeshijima

★彡 🄶🄴🄾 彡★

gorou | the general of watatsumi army

gorou x fem!reader | normal!au + established relationship by @https-furina

arataki itto | the one and oni

itto as an ex-yakuza househusband! by @versadies

my favorite girl by @chilumi-shipper

★彡 🄿🅈🅁🄾 彡★

diluc ragnvinder | darknight hero of mondstadt

I love you so by @hiraya-rawr

[anneangel]

The most horrible thing Holmes ever said to Watson is, in my opinion:

"My dear fellow!" I (Watson) cried, approaching him.

"Stand back! Stand right back!" said he (Holmes) with the sharp imperiousness which I had associated only with moments of crisis. "If you approach me, Watson, I shall order you out of the house."

"But why?"

"Because it is my desire. Is that not enough?"

Yes, Mrs. Hudson was right. He was more masterful than ever. It was pitiful, however, to see his exhaustion. "I only wished to help," I explained.

"Exactly! You will help best by doing what you are told."

"Certainly, Holmes."

He relaxed the austerity of his manner. "You are not angry?" he asked, gasping for breath.

Poor devil, how could I be angry when I saw him lying in such a plight before me?

"It's for your own sake, Watson," he croaked.

"For MY sake?"

"I know what is the matter with me. It is a disease (…) Contagious by touch, Watson, that's it, by touch. Keep your distance and all is well."

"Good heavens, Holmes! Do you suppose that such a consideration weighs with me of an instant? It would not affect me in the case of a stranger. Do you imagine it would prevent me from doing my duty to so old a friend?"

Again I advanced, but he repulsed me with a look of furious anger. "If you will stand there I will talk. If you do not you must leave the room."

I have so deep a respect for the extraordinary qualities of Holmes that I have always deferred to his wishes, even when I least understood them. But now all my professional instincts were aroused. Let him be my master elsewhere, I at least was his in a sick room.

"Holmes," said I, "you are not yourself. A sick man is but a child, and so I will treat you. Whether you like it or not, I will examine your symptoms and treat you for them."

He looked at me with venomous eyes. "If I am to have a doctor whether I will or not, let me at least have someone in whom I have confidence," said he.

"Then you have none in me?"

"In your friendship, certainly. But facts are facts, Watson, and, after all, you are only a general practitioner with very limited experience and mediocre qualifications. It is painful to have to say these things, but you leave me no choice."

I was bitterly hurt.

"Such a remark is unworthy of you, Holmes. It shows me very clearly the state of your own nerves. But if you have no confidence in me I would not intrude my services. (…) . Let me bring (…) someone you MUST have, and that is final. If you think that I am going to stand here and see you die without either helping you myself or bringing anyone else to help you, then you have mistaken your man."

But in the end of the case Holmes justifies himself, making it seem like it was all just an act:

"My dear Watson, I owe you a thousand apologies. (…) You won't be offended, Watson? You will realize that among your many talents dissimulation finds no place, and that if you had shared my secret you would never have been able to impress"

"But why would you not let me near you, since there was in truth no infection?" (Said Watson).

"Can you ask, my dear Watson? Do you imagine that I have no respect for your medical talents? Could I fancy that your astute judgment would pass a dying man who, however weak, had no rise of pulse or temperature? At four yards, I could deceive you. (…) I act have carried out with the thoroughness of the true artist. Thank you, Watson, you must help me on with my coat. When we have finished at the police-station I think that something nutritious at Simpson's would not be out of place."

Oh, all of Watson's concern and way of acting towards Holmes is so cute, and yet he is so compassionate, even after what Holmes did, that I can't help but feel dislike for Holmes in this case, haha. Poor Watson.

[princess-of-the-corner]

In the trans adrien AU, I was thinking about how a couple of weeks of adrien and the miracuclass getting to know each other, the latter start seeing adrien as very feminine, like he acts more like a girl than a boy, his hobbies are more traditional female and prefers to use clothes that are androgynous whenever his father rarely allows it. Adrienne might be able to dissimulate well temporarily, but it’s just that, temporarily, when it comes to be around people her age, she is rather bad behaving like a boy long term. There is also the fact that she tends to spent a lot of time with Chloe, they both insist they are just friends, but some in the class believe adrien is chloe boyfriend (more like girlfriend really but they don’t know that, also some believe chloe is gay but don’t say it aloud, so it’s weird for them seeing chloe with any guy), but he doesn’t exactly click as one of the boys, not really.

As an aside, I believe the reason why Adrienne has some level of freedom to develop herself as a person despite how controlling Gabriel (and maybe emilie too) are of there perfect golden boy is that they understand they won’t be forever there to direct his every action, so him learning some independence is necessary so he develops in the way they see fit. The agrestes might also be too prideful to micromanage Adrienne via her amok, after all overusing it to mold and modify every single thing of the golden child doesn’t say good things about their parenting and that’s a line they aren’t willing to cross in their own eyes.

Honestly yeah I can see Gabe and Emilie kinda programming Adrien with enough independence that he doesn't shut down if they're not there 24/7.

Also YEAH like.

I think Adrienne barely knows how to socialize with Real People™ and a lot of people think 'him' liking girl things is just that 'he's' friends with just Chloé and she kinda dominates the activity choices.

They try to have a guys night to teach him guy things and the entire time she's just internally screaming .

[briwates]

Some context things abt Yohan's birth/Yohan's mother:

- if he's born around ~1985 thats in the middle of SK's antinatalist era when the state did everything it could to limit births (official communication on family planning even included things like "two is too many". Yohan is an extra marrital second child in the midst of an intensive family planning policy era, feels like that could add to the shame & difficulty of the whole situation for his mother + for jisang, even if considering how rich and disconnected from society he was, it probably would not have affected him much (aside from the catholic guilt I suppose). Her as a working class, to-be single mother on the other hand...

- even today only 2% of SK kids are born out of wedlock + it's precised on their birth registry/birth certificates if theyre born outside of a marriage. Legally there's no difference of treatment compared to babies born to married parents, however I'm sure there are social consequences. Depending on who registered Yohan at birth, his original papers could have that indication. It seems to make more sense for him to find ways to dissimulate it once he had the means to tho, especially after becoming a public figure.

- Also idea floated by @clawbehavior that yohan's mother could even be a foreigner. There's that scene in the show where Heo Joongse accuses Yohan of not being fully korean. HJS's is written as a fascist/ethnonationalist which explains these claims once Yohan turns against him, but it's nonetheless a possibility. Now Yohan as a second child born out of wedlock, in the antinatalist era, and on top of that to a foreigner in an ethnically homogenous country ? So many avenues to explore

[jeannefostergoriot]

Family Line by Conan Gray X Fitz Vacker

(How didn’t I think of it sooner?)

« My father never talked a lot »: Alden… isn’t really open. Like. I doubt any of his kids, and even Della, ever knew what was happening, what he was doing, even when they were on missions.

« He just took a walk around the block »: keuf. That’s the secret missions. For the Council and for himself. That a kid can’t understand.

« Till all his anger took a hold of him, and he’d hit »: so. As I said for Driver’s Seat analysis, I doubt the cracks and the emotions go out as anger in the Lost Cities. Though it could happen, adding to the guilt that broke his mind. Yeah. Alden probably screamed. Criticized harshly without realizing. That’s the blows.

« My mother never cried a lot »: Della always stayed in the shadows. She says it herself, she isn’t known as standing up.

« She took the punches but she never fought »: that is about how Della never corrected Alden’s favoritism. She just compensated by caring more for Alvar and Biana.

« Till she said “I’m leaving and I’ll take the kids”, so she did »: that’s book 4. That’s Della joining the Black Swan.

« I say “They’re just the ones who gave me life” »: Fitz all throughout Flashback. Standing against his parents. Protesting.

« But I truly am my parents’ child »: but he can never undo the pressure, the legacy. Even his name, Fitz, that means « son of ». He’s what the Vackers made him.

« Scattered cross my family line »: the way the Vacker family is exploded. The ancestors. Alvar by the Neverseen. Alden and Della never truly close to their kids. Biana and Fitz raised in competition.

« I’m so good at telling lies »: he’s good at dissimulation, at tricking the world to appear fine.

« That came from my mother’s side »: dunno if Della lies. Probably yes. And she always gives the impression to be pretty delicate beauty, when she’s clearly a fighter (cf her registry pages in Unlocked)

« Told a million to survive »: not to survive but to keep the appearances up. Everything’s fine. There is no reason to worry.

« God, I have my father’s eyes »: Fitz has always been perceived as perfect heir. Miniature Alden.

« But my sister’s when I cry »: the fact that, with everything collapsing, Fitz and Biana grew closer throughout the series.

« I can run, but I can’t hide, from my family line »: that is the feeling that whatever he does, he will always be a Vacker. Seen as royal perfection.

« It’s hard to put it into words, how the holidays will always hurt »: it’s hard to admit in Glitter City that it’s not really perfect, expressing that is something they’ve never been taught.

« I watch the fathers with their little girls, and wonder what I did to deserve this »: I think I remember Fitz voicing that. Voicing that he doesn’t know why he is there, treated with so much respect and admiration and feeling so out of place.

« How could you hurt a little kid »: how could you turn me into a simple puppet and forget I have an identity ?

« I can’t forget, I can’t forgive you »: that’s to the whole family tree. The old ones that passed down the pressure and perfection-expectations for centuries.

« Cause now I’m scared that everyone I love will leave me ». This line is about how Fitz doesn’t know how to love. How to be stable. How to live.

« All that I did, I tried to undo it »: that he tried. Being perfect representation of the system? He joined the rebellion. Hurting Sophie and mistrusting her? He went through the whole process of Inquisition and accepted Sokeefe. Making Biana feel invisible? He talked with her in Flashback.

« All of my pain and all your excuses, I was a kid but I wasn’t clueless »: how living in both worlds made him stranger to everything, how he felt something was wrong with the missions, how he just wanted to make Alden proud.

« Someone who loves you wouldn’t do this »: to the system. To all the girls flirting with him without knowing. To his parents not understanding his fears.

« All of my past, I tried to erase it »: killing Alvar as erasing the pain. Joining the Black Swan as erasing the pressure. He is a runaway boy too, but it shows less.

« But now I see, would I even change it? »: I think he can learn to think like this. To be satisfied.

« Might share a face and share a last name, but we are not the same »: now. By Stellarlune, he knows. He knows he can have an identity and not be a copy of his father. He can not make the same mistakes.

[trans-duckling]

For Them to Have Your Eyes: Fear

That was the first and only baby Kakashi would be giving birth to. He was sure of it. Yeah, the beginning hadn’t been too bad, but the last couple of months in which he had started to have problems to control his chakra and his equilibrium was that of a duck on drugs, were being too much for him. And that was without talking about the new hobby the kid seemed to have developed during the last few days: kicking his kidneys. It felt like they were trying to practice the Konoha Senpu even before being born.

So, if Gai and him wanted another child at some point, they would have to adopt.

For the Hatake, it was not only the annoyance of the pregnancy itself —whoever said it was a ‘wonderful’ experience had surely not been pregnant—, but also the unease it brought to him. He was long passed the phase in which he could dissimulate the state with clothes, his belly big and round. Looking at himself in front of the mirror was too hard most of the times, the figure greeting him back almost unrecognizable. It didn’t matter how often Gai said he was handsome and perfect, the dysphoria would always be there. Which, of course, only got worse once he entered the third trimester and his hormones became even more crazy. Oh, the joy.

At some point, he had decided to isolate himself from the outer world, not leaving the house unless it was to pick up some papers from the office, visit the hospital or escape to the forest for a walk with his pack whenever he managed to escape Gai’s overprotection.

That didn’t mean he had ceased interacting with other people, most of them just coming to their house instead. His and Gai’s teams were frequent visitors, as well as Kurenai and some of their other friends. That day, however, the visitor he was sharing his time with was not there for pleasure.

Naruto was receiving an ‘immersive class’ about the Hokage position. Which basically meant that he was helping Kakashi to read and catalogue documents.

“Maah… Sensei, this is too boring, dattebayo” the blonde mumbled, face against the table. “My brain cannot take it anymore.”

“Well, this is what awaits you once you become Hokage” he pointed out with a sigh. “And you should be glad I’m helping you on the way there, most Kages just get thrown in the position and have to figure it out by themselves.”

He was not thinking about Tsunade. Not at all.

“But we’ve been looking at these papers all morning! There has to be something else we can do, dattebayo!”

“Mmm… Not really, being at peace means more documents than war, who would’ve guessed…”

Fine, there was a small possibility he was mocking Naruto just for the fun of it, but he could not avoid a chuckle as his student slid down the chair until he was lying flat on the floor, dramatic tears rolling over his cheeks.

Truth was, as Hokage there were a lot of things he had to do —physical matters, not paperwork—, but his current state meant he had to focus on decreasing the pile of documents that occupied his office. With any luck, by the end of the pregnancy the amount would have reduced to at least half of it.

The smile on his lips changed into a grimace as the baby decided to kick his left kidney again. He brought a hand to the spot and tried to telepathically ask them to fall asleep again. As the nuisance continued, he realized that was probably not going to happen, the kid seemingly starting a whole Gai’s routine. When the feeling morphed into pain, he was uncapable of holding a gasp.

“Give it a rest” he mumbled.

“Uh? You’re saying we can take a break, sensei, really?!” the Uzumaki happily exclaimed, jumping back up.

“No, I was talking to the demon inside of me” he grunted. “We still have a lot to do.”

Resigning to the situation, the Hatake got up to take another folder from the end of the table, and by doing so a stabbing pain punctured his abdomen. Well, that had definitely not been a kick. His hands let go of the folder and instead grabbed the edge of the desk to avoid falling as a nauseating feeling went through his body.

“Kakashi-sensei?”

“Something is wrong” he panted, one hand moving to his belly.

He had a weird sensation in between his legs, as if he was… Well, either bleeding or peeing, and he was quite sure he could still control his bladder. Another wave of abdominal pain forced him to hold for dear life to the table, knuckles white due to the effort and mask becoming moist due to the hard breathing.

In a blink, Naruto was by his side, helping him to stay up.

“I’m taking you to the hospital, Kakashi-sensei” he said, dead-serious. “Sakura-chan will be able to help you.”

“Wait” he panted. “Just… One second.”

The Hatake brought a hand to the edge of his mask to pull it down. The Uzumaki, who in the past would’ve been ready with a camera to record that moment, moved his head to the opposite side, offering him all the intimacy he could. As soon as his lips were free, Kakashi used his fingers to produce a low but potent whistle. By the time he had put the mask back up, eight dogs had entered the house from the back door.

“We’re here, boss!” Shiba barked. “What do you need?”

“Naruto is taking me to the hospital” he explained, taking short breaths to control the pain. “Uhei, I need you to find Gai and tell him to come. I think something is wrong with the baby.”

Those words sank heavily on the ninken, who whined before nodding slowly. Uhei didn’t waist more time, running outside once again and disappearing in the forest. Being the fastest and knowing Gai’s scent by heart, he would find him in no time, for sure. The taijutsu master had gone training with his team close the village’s border and was supposed to be back by then, but it was not exactly strange for him to stay overtime. He would surely feel guilty later, even when it had been Kakashi who insisted on him going out more often, since his decision to stay at home didn’t have to extend to the other man as well. The Hatake still enjoyed his alone time.

“Ready, sensei?”

“Yes.”

As undignified as it felt, he allowed Naruto to pass a hand under his knees and another behind his back to lift him up, bridal style. Thank Kami for the blonde’s new arm, or otherwise the trip to the hospital would’ve been a less-fun one. Instead, with his four extremities intact and incredible speed, they found themselves in front of the main doors in just seven seconds. Luckily, his dogs would be able to find them by using their nose even inside of the hospital.

His student didn’t bother with the door —which may be something Kakashi had passed onto him—, instead he jumped directly to the windowsill of Sakura’s office, attached to it just with the chakra accumulated at the tip of his sandals. The Hatake really hoped they didn’t fall or the situation would become way worse.

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto exclaimed, uncapable to move his hands to knock at the window. “Open up, it’s an emergency!”

The young kunoichi turned her head towards them with a confused look, but the worried expression on the blonde was enough for her to run and give them access inside.

“What’s wrong?”

“Abdominal pain” Kakashi panted. “Very intense, in waves, just like… UGH! Like that.”

The Haruno’s eyes opened wide, probably because she knew Kakashi was not the kind of shinobi that would complain for a little pain.

“Put him on the bed, Naruto” she indicated as a scratch sound hit the office’s door. “And tell whoever is outside that I’m occupied.”

“It’s my pack” the Hatake grunted as his back hit the hard mattress. “Let them in.”

As the pink-haired moved to help him uncovering his upper body, Naruto opened the door and almost fell to the ground as the dogs at the other side ran to get to Kakashi’s side. They were a bunch of good boys.

“How are you doing, boss?” Pakkun asked.

“Peachy” he mumbled with a groan. “Sakura, tell me what’s wrong.”

His student had started to feel his distended belly without using ninjutsu, which was not a nice feeling, if he was being honest.

“I’m not sure yet” she admitted. “I’m going to use medical ninjutsu and then the echograph, ok?”

He nodded because another wave of pain made it too difficult to talk. The green chakra didn’t make it worse, but neither better. And he didn’t like the way in which Sakura’s eyebrow turned inwards. That was never a good signal.

“What is it?” he groaned. “Is the baby ok?”

“I… I don’t know. I need to use the echograph and check if really…”

“What, Sakura-chan?” the blonde pressured. “Are Kakashi-sensei and the baby going to be ok?”

She hesitated and something took out the air from the Hatake’s lungs. No. That could not happen, not when they were so close to meeting their child.

“I don’t care if we’re not married, he’s my rival!” an angry voice exclaimed from the corridor. “KAKASHI!”

“GAI!” another voice, this one feminine and stronger, interrupted the other man’s complains. “Stop screaming inside my hospital, there is people here trying to work! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Naruto” Sakura commanded with one word.

In a second, the Uzumaki was out of the office. Another one, and him, together with Tsunade, Gai and Uhei, were back.

“Rival!” the taijutsu master called as he approached the hospital bed. “Uhei told me something was wrong. What is it?!”

“That’s what we’re trying to check, Gai-sensei” Sakura indicated, looking then at her mentor. “I still have to use the echograph to confirm it, Tsunade-sama, but I think… I think is a placental abruption.”

The second frown from the Godaime did nothing to calm Kakashi’s nerves.

“What does that mean?” he demanded.

“Calm down, Kakashi, let’s figure this out first and then we’ll explain.”

As Tsunade moved to help Sakura with the echography, Uhei and Naruto took a step back to join the rest of the pack, giving them the necessary space to work. Gai changed his position as well to be by the Hatake’s side, hands holding one of his while he looked at him with a serious expression. They didn’t need words to understand each other.

I’m here. Whatever happens, I’ll always be here. We’ll get through this together.

The transducer’s pressure was almost painful against his belly, and when it reached the lower part he had to bite the inside of his cheek to contain a complaint.

“That’s liquid, possibly blood, too” the Sannin pointed out, signaling a grey and black spot in the little screen of the apparatus. “You were right, Sakura.”

The girl didn’t seem happy to hear that.

“What does that mean, Tsunade-sama?” Gai asked, voice trembling. “Are they going to be ok?”

The Godaime turned to look at them with a grave expression.

“We cannot be sure, this is a delicate situation” she explained. “The placenta seems to have suffered an abruption, which is what is causing you pain, Kakashi. If you were closer to your due date, we would recommend early labor to decrease any risk, but that is not a possibility right now.”

“But” the Hatake said, “doesn’t the baby gets all the food and that from the placenta? What will happen to them?”

Tsunade and Sakura exchanged a quick glance.

“You’ll have to remain in bedrest to avoid further damage, sensei” the pink haired said, “and take supplements to help the baby keep developing. With luck, that, together with weekly checks, will be enough to get you close to the due date.”

“There is something more we could do” the Sannin added once she finished.

“Tsunade-sama?”

“I have only done the intervention twice before, and only succeeded once” she declared. “If we use medical ninjutsu, we can potentially repair the abruption and help the pregnancy to reach term in a way that is safer for both you and the baby. Rest and supplements may avoid the situation getting worse, but the risks at delivery would remain, mainly blood loss that will endanger both of you.”

The hold of Gai’s hands around Kakashi’s increased to an almost painful level. It was evident he was struggling even more than the Hatake with the news. He was pretty sure that the reason behind it was the indecision of what to choose. Luckily for him, Kakashi had a very clear idea.

“When can you do the intervention?” he asked.

“Kakashi, wait a moment, we need…” the other man tried to add.

“We’re both in danger either way, Gai” he cut him. “This way, at least we have a chance to reach full term without any more risks.”

“But with what Tsunade-sama said, the chances of me losing you both are fifty-fifty!”

“You trusted her with Lee” the Hatake pointed out, squeezing his hands. “Trust her with this, as well.”

When he turned his eyes towards the older woman, she nodded with conviction. Behind her, Sakura didn’t seem so sure, and it was evident that his pack and Naruto wanted to add something, but new better than to try.

“I can schedule it for tomorrow morning” she proposed. “Shizune and Sakura will assist me to help if something goes wrong. This is the best option, Gai.”

Kakashi looked back at his partner, who was no doubt clenching his teeth with enough strength to break them. Then, he inhaled deeply and let out a long breath.

“Ok” he said, moving up to kiss the Hatake’s forehead. “Ok.”

There was a heavy load on Gai’s shoulders that he had only felt once before in his life, five years ago. He had been pacing around those same corridors —well, not exactly because the hospital had been rebuilt since then—, wondering if he would see again the person who entered the surgery room.

“Gai-sensei, what about a sparring match to kill the nerves?” Lee suggested behind him. “Tsunade-sama said the procedure would take at least five hours, so…”

“I appreciate the intention, Lee, but I never left the hospital when it was you in that room, and surely I won’t do it now, either.”

Only two hours had passed since Kakashi had been taken into surgery and Sakura assured him they wouldn’t be able to say anything until they were close to the end, but he still didn’t want to leave the waiting room. The simple thought of it made him sick, as if he would be abandoning both his partner and their child. It would be wrong.

“They’ll be fine” Biscuit said, jumping to his chest and forcing the taijutsu master to catch him. “Have faith, Gai.”

Petting soft fur calmed him, which he suspected the ninken knew, but he still kept pacing around the room. Lee, the dogs and him were not the only ones there, of course. Tenten was out on a mission and not many people had been told of the situation, but Kurenai, Naruto, Sai, Genma and Yamato were there as well, though the last two ones were hidden in the shadows, still on duty even when Kakashi was in surgery.

It felt like an eternity —a slow, horrible one— until the moment Sakura came through the corridor’s doors with a tired expression. Thankfully Gai was not holding a ninken anymore, or it would’ve ended on the floor. They still hadn’t reached the fourth hour mark, so the medic nin shouldn’t be out there yet. A cold chill ran down his spine as his mind tried to prepare for a dozen of painful scenarios.

Then, Sakura smiled.

“Everything went well” she said. “The abruption was smaller than we thought and easy to repair by Tsunade-sama. We also had time to check the overall situation of the baby, and no further damage seemed to have happened, so everything should be fine now.”

Gai felt tears filling up his eyes. He quickly blinked them away in favor of approaching Sakura and pick her hands.

“Thank you” he babbled. “When can I see them?”

“Well, Tsunade-sama and Shizune-san are finishing up and then he’ll be sent to a private room, so I guess you can wait for him there” she indicated, turning then towards the others. “Only him, though, the rest of you may be able to pop up for a second once he’s awake.”

Gai expected some protests, but not even Naruto complained against Sakura’s orders as she directed him to the room were the Hatake would be taken. He barely had to wait a few minutes in the empty space before Shizune and Tsunade entered pushing the bed in which Kakashi was currently asleep. His gaze didn’t move from his rival from the moment he caught an eye on him, too busy checking that he was really breathing and his belly was still there. Making sure his family was safe.

“He should wake within the next hour” the Godaime said in a soft voice. “We’ll do a second check then, to be sure the pain is truly gone, but otherwise everything indicates the pregnancy will be carried to term safely for both of them. You can breathe now, Gai.”

Hearing it didn’t make it more possible, as his lungs seemed to have chosen that moment to forget how to put air in. That was, until his brain sent a panic signal and he basically gasped for oxygen.

“Thank you” he let out with a trembling voice.

The three women looked at him with kind smiles, as they were probably used to that kind of reaction whenever they saved a life. As if their work was not the closest thing to magic any person could think of.

“You should rest as well now, sensei” Sakura advised. “Someone will have to take care of Kakashi-sensei’s incisions for the next week, so…”

“I won’t leave his side, I promise.”

The Sannin chuckled.

“Oh, I can imagine Kakashi protesting against that.”

Gai couldn’t care less. He didn’t even think himself capable of stepping out of the room in which the Hatake was.

“We’ll leave you alone now, sensei” the youngest kunoichi said. “Just be sure to call us shortly after he awakes, ok?”

He nodded, his eyes still focused on Kakashi, and they stayed that way as the women left through the door. Only when he found himself alone did he manage to transfer to the chair next to the bed, fingers coming up to softly brush against the Hatake’s.

Thirty seven minutes.

That was the amount of time that Kakashi needed to wake up once they were left alone in the room. His eyelids were the first thing to move, blinking a couple of times before his eyes found Gai’s. Then, his mouth shifted under the surgical mask he was wearing, expression a mix of confusion and worry.

“How…?” he started with a raspy voice.

“It went well” Gai quickly reassured, his fingers interlacing with Kakashi’s and body bending closer to the other man. “You’re both fine. The abruption was smaller than they thought and were able to fix it easily so you can reach full term. How is the pain?”

“Good” the Hatake responded, grimacing a bit. “Your kid is currently using my kidney as a punching bag, though.”

Gai chuckled loudly, just so damn happy of hearing his rival talk so naturally.

“They’ll become a master in taijutsu, I just know it.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes, but his general expression said he was smiling under the mask. Gai’s free hand came up to rest on his round belly, careful to not rest it on top of the incision. Even if medical ninjutsu had been used, he didn’t want to risk causing him more pain by accident. His fingers spread over the medical gown the other man had on, and the Hatake’s other hand didn’t take long before joining his.

“They are truly very active, rival” Gai smiled upon feeling another kick.

Instead of answering, Kakashi just nodded and closed his eyes again, probably looking to take in that moment and finally relax. Gai let him, of course, happy with just observing his rival while smiling, one hand holding the most important person in his life and the other feeling the result of their love moving without rest.

His little perfect family.

[lemonhemlock]

i've had a few days to marinate on shogun and, since i haven't seen any of this discussed in the video essays i've managed to see, i would like to very respectfully critique toranaga's hero framing. i thought the last conversation with yabushige was supposed to temper that a bit but imo it was not enough. the torturing of the village to dissimulate for his own sinking of the ship followed by the luke-skywalker-staring-at-the-horizon choice of imagery felt inappropriate to me. the man is sociopath! he essentially sacrificed so many people so that he can become shogun and accumulate even more power than he already has. i don't think we should be praising that or shrouding it in such reverence. i don't expect much from male youtube commentators bc ofc they're not going to be sensitive to that strain of commentary and can't wait for a new badass male warrior to stan, but i'm starting to wonder whether i'm misinterpreting this series as i'm sure there are many cultural aspects i still don't understand

other decisions of toranaga's that did not sit well with me and struck me as red flags were letting hiromatsu commit seppuku for nothing and sending mariko to sacrifice herself. i understand these events were changed from the book? and honestly the book versions make more sense and make him less of an unfeeling lunatic (disclaimer that i haven't read it so i might be wrong ofc). but, i heard that in the novel, he tells his generals of his plan of feigning defeat so no one feels compelled into such a dramatic gesture as seppuku. if so, this is one show change that left me scratching my head

at the same time, mariko sama is a character i really liked, but i don't think her actions in episode 9 paint her in a very positive light; more than that, i feel like her death is kind of justified as narrative punishment? again, i understand that, in the book, she & ochiba no kata were not childhood friends, so it would make sense why mariko had no qualms to act against her. but, by helping toranaga to essentially & eventually become shogun, is mariko not endangering her girlhood friend and her son? my understanding of this period in japan's history is very limited, but lady ochiba's real-life counterpart, yodo-dono, and her son ended up committing suicide because of toranaga's historical counterpart. as such, i didn't really understand why ochiba no kata would lend a hand to toranaga's campaign. he was suspected at large of wanting to restore the shogunate so why wouldn't lady ochiba correlate that with her son's safety?

in this context, toranaga's statement that mariko's karma was to die for her lord while his is to become shogun ultimately feels so condescending and i'm surprised i'm not seeing more critique on it? mariko's sacrifice is being interpreted everywhere as this great act of strength and principle and i'm really just left asking myself what exactly am i missing. similarly, toranaga's professing of being ready to lay down his life for the heir and his promises to the dying taiko ring very hollow, to be honest. he even has an introductory scene when he is making nice with this child and it's just... ?? weird that there is no commentary attached to that

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Danton breaking up fights between Robespierre and his soon-to-be ex-boyfriends compilation

The surveillance Committee launched an arrest warrant against Minister Roland; it was the 4th (September), and the massacres were still going on. Danton was informed of it, he came to town hall, he was with Robespierre; […] I (Pétion) had an explanation with Robespierre, it was very lively. I tell him: “Robespierre, you are doing a lot of harm; your denunciations, your alarms, your hatreds, your suspicions, they agitate the people; explain yourself; do you have any facts? Do you have any proof? I fight with you; I only love the truth; I only want freedom.”

”You allow yourself to be surrounded, you allow yourself to be warned, he replied; you are disposed against me; you see my enemies everyday; you see Brissot and his party.”

”You are mistaken, Robespierre; no one is more on guard than I against prejudices, and judges with more coolness, men and things. You’re right, I see Brissot, however rarely, but you don’t know him, and I know him since his childhood. I have seen him in those moments when the soul shows itself entirely; where one abandons oneself unreservedly to friendship, to confidence: I know his disinterestedness; I know his principles, I proclaim to you that they are pure; those who make him a party leader have not the faintest idea of ​​his character; he has enlightenment and knowledge; but he has neither the reserve, nor the dissimulation, nor those lively forms, nor that spirit of consistency which constitutes a leader of a party, and what will surprise you is that, far from leading others, he is very easy to abuse.”

Robespierre insisted, but confined himself to generalities.

”Allow us to explain ourselves,” I told him, ”tell me frankly what is in your heart, what you know.”

”Well!” he replied, ”I believe that Brissot is at Brunswick.”

”What mistake is yours,” I exclaimed! ”it is truly madness; this is how your imagination leads you astray: wouldn't Brunswick be the first to cut his head off? Brissot is not mad enough to doubt it: which of us can seriously capitulate! which of us does not risk his life! Let us banish unjust mistrust.”

Danton became entangled in the colloquy, saying that this was not the time for arguments; that it was necessary to have all these explanations after the expulsion of the enemies; that this decisive object alone should occupy all good citizens.  Discours de Jérôme Pétion sur l’accusation intentée contre Maximilien Robespierre (November 5 1792)

Robespierre: Camille's writings are to be condemned, no doubt; but nevertheless it is necessary to distinguish the person from his works. I consent freedom to treat Desmoulins like a spoiled child who had happy dispositions, and who has been led astray by bad company. His head sometimes wanders, but his talents are precious. But we must demand of him that he prove his repentance for all his thoughtlessness, by quitting those companies which have ruined him. We must crack down on his acts that Brissot himself would not have dared to admit, and keep Desmoulms in our midst. All these truths are not flattering for an author: but if the vanity of Camille Desmoulins is offended by them, he considers that he has attracted a small admonition sufficient to correct it. When he sees that he has deserved still more severe reproaches, he will feel the necessity of rallying to principles, and removing from himself all causes of an error that we are willing to forgive him for. Let him examine that his writings are the pain of patriots and the joy of aristocrats, and he will be grateful to us to see that it is only for him that we can forget them. I end by asking that his numbers be treated like the aristocrats who buy them, with the contempt that profanity deserves. I propose to the Society to burn them in the middle of the room (There is applause several times; Robespierre's speech was interrupted by applause and bursts of laughter).  Desmoulins: That's very well said, Robespierre, but I'll answer you like Rousseau: "To burn is not to answer."  Robespierre: How dare you still want to justify works that delight the aristocracy? Learn, Camille, that if you were not Camille, one could not have so much indulgence for you. The way you want to justify yourself proves to me that you have bad intentions. To burn is not to answer! But can this quotation of the sublime philosopher of Geneva find its application here? WelI, I retract my last motion; I ask that Camille's numbers not be burned, but that they be answered. Since he wants to, let him be covered with ignominy, let the Society not restrain its indignation, since he persists in supporting his diatribes and his dangerous principles. The man who clings so strongly to perfidious writings is perhaps more than misguided; if he had been in good faith, if he had written in the simplicity of his heart, he would not have dared longer to support works proscribed by patriots and sought after by all the counter-revolutionaries of France. His courage is only borrowed, he detects the hidden men under whose dictation he wrote his diary; he detects in Desmoulins the organ of a villainous faction which has borrowed his pen to distill its poison with more audacity and certainty. Desmoulins, who sees himself blamed by the patriots, finds himself compensated by the adulations of the aristocrats he frequents, and by the caresses of many false patriots, under which he does not perceive the perfidious intention of ruining him. You must know what he said in response to those who blamed his writings: Do you know that I sold 50 000 copies! I would not have said these truths if Desmoulins had not been so obstinate, but the point of order has become necessary. I therefore ask that the numbers of Camille Desmoulins be read from the rostrum: if there are individuals who defend his principles, they will be listened to, but there will be patriots to answer them.  Desmoulins: But Robespierre, I don’t understand you. How can you say only aristocrats read my paper? The Convention, the Mountain, are they composed of aristocrats? You denounce me here, but was I not at your house? Didn’t I read you my numbers, asking you, in the name of friendship, for your advice, and to trace the path that I had to take?  Robespierre: You didn’t show me all your numbers, I only saw one or two. To avoid quarrel I didn’t want to read the others, it would be said that I dictated them.  Danton: Camille mustn’t be frightened by the rather severe lessons Robespierre’s friendship has just given him. Citizens, let justice and cold-headedness always preside over our decisions. In judging Camille, be careful to not strike a deadly blow against the liberty of the press.  [A secretary reads number 4 of Vieux Cordelier, which excites reclamations, the reading is at several times interrupted by marks of improbation. The club, at the proposal of Robespierre, decides that it will hear the reading of Camille’s third and fifth number tomorrow, where he will justify himself.]  The Jacobin Club January 7 1794

[ccaptain]

Awaiting that delicious moment where H:SR Kaeya will confess to someone he trusts that not only he no longer feels like a person, but that he has nothing to call his own and no place to belong to: his body is borrowed from someone who already lived before him, his memories as a cheerful child seem to have happened eons ago to a disconnected person compared to the being he now is, and people that he's close to will eventually die while him, as a ''being'', continues to live on.

He no longer knows who or what he is, and if he's deserving to have an identity at all, and what he'll do after he's finished dissimulating the history of the Great Catastrophe. He truly lives in a present, and in an uncertaint future that he doesn't know what to feel about.

[dertaglichedan]

Can Harris’s Cynical, Run-out-the Clock Campaign Succeed?

Harris thinks her delays, deceptions, and vilifications for the next 47 days will ensure her victory.

By Victor Davis Hanson

September 19, 2024

Cynically running out the clock has been the overarching principle of the entire abbreviated 105-day presidential campaign of Kamala Harris—ever since Joe Biden, at the 11th-hour, dropped out in July.

Harris seems unwilling or unable to answer any impromptu question that she has not been previously prepped for. Her answers at the debate were memorized and canned. They never addressed the questions asked.

Her single, 11-minute post-debate Philadelphia interview was a shipwreck of dodging and dissimulating—even though the host was sympathetically left-wing.

Even socialist Bernie Sanders pointed out that for Harris to get elected, she must temporarily disown her lifelong leftist credentials.

As vice president, she must further deny co-ownership of the unpopular record of the Biden-Harris administration.

Left unstated is that whether she wins the presidency—or loses it and continues as vice president for another three months—nonetheless she will inevitably revert back to her hard-core, lifelong leftist beliefs.

In addition, Harris has reconstructed her privileged upbringing as a child of two PhDs, living in a posh Montreal neighborhood into a struggling, middle-class Oakland childhood.

How can she stage such a complete makeover—and contemptuously count on the voting public to be so easily deceived?

She avoids all news conferences, one-on-one nationally broadcast interviews, and town halls. And like Biden, she will debate only on leftist venues with impartial pro-Harris moderators.

[kurokid1412]

Chains of Eternity Masterpost

Original masterpost is here

Miscellaneous

6 days countdown

-Semi-vent- ✦ Poison The Air ✦

✦ The true director ✦

★⋆. ࿐࿔ A world of wonder ★⋆. ࿐࿔

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Shattered Loop ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Duchy of Whiteridge ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Snowspire Festival ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

✦ Rendezvous ✦

✦ Fate can be cruel ✦

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Ghostly Hot Springs ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Masquerade Ball ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

✦ Dancing with Fate ✦

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Closing Ceremony ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

✦ Hopefully, a see you again ✦

✦ ☯️ Dark and light ☯️ ✦

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Festival Rerun ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Repeat ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

✦ Repeat 1 ✦

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Hero of Legend ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Faith and Evil ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Secrets Within ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

✦ Faith in spite of evil ✦

✦ Evil in spite of faith ✦

✦ Descended from grace ✦

✦ Dissimulation ✦

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Frozen Abyss ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Twisted Castle ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

✦ You're the Devil in Disguise ✦

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Frozen Legacy ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

✦ “If you see flames of unusual colors, look away and keep your distance.” ✦

✦ 190125 ✦

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Afterglow of Snow ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Intermission 1 ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔

✶⋆.˚ Clan Reputation - Radinov Family ✶⋆.˚

★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Intermission 2 ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✦ Gentle warmth ✦

✦ Dichotomy ✦

✦ Umbral Weaver ✦

✦ Theatre of the Absurd ✦

✦ Cyanide Love ✦

★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔

✶⋆.˚ World Before You ✶⋆.˚

✶⋆.˚ Sunrise Overture ✶⋆.˚

ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ Drifting Snowflakes ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

✦ [1.] ✦

✦ [2.] ✦

✦ [3.] ✦

✶⋆.˚ Light of Tomorrow ✶⋆.˚

✦ Follow-up ✦

✦ What do you make of melancholy ✦

✦ Hold onto it ✦

★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔

✶⋆.˚ Clan Reputation - Duchy of Whiteridge ✶⋆.˚

✦ What they call salvation ✦

★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Intermission 3 ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✦ Your Betrayal ✦

✶⋆.˚ Dearest Child ✶⋆.˚

✦ Snowball Showdown ✦

[laveuvequincy-a]

Amelie's backstory

Here's a revised and more in depth version of Amélie's backstory to make her character a bit more complex and interesting than my first version; as well as better fitted in the Bleach world and make interactions easier. Some details are still to be added and think about, but here's the global idea.

I've added a bit about her personality at the end of the post to help with interactions and give you a better idea of who she is.

Early life:

Amelie grew up in a strict wealthy Quincy family. Her family is from the noble class and owns land in France. As an old child she was raised to be the heir of the family and wed at the age of twenty. A life she found little excitement from. Amélie struggled a lot as a child and teenager to fit within society, often talking and behaving inapproprietly and very blunlty with people. She had very little friends and trouble relating to other people, whom she other found dumb or dull. 

She found refuge and escapism in ballet classes she started taking as a child, she likes the thrive and discipline to become the best she came, the attention during performance and portraying different characters. She dreamt of making a career out of it, her parents weren't very keen but allowed to keep going to those classes, seeing it was helping her building discipline and appropriate behaviour. 

Pre-war:

By the age of twenty, she betroded her man named Pierre, of noble Etcht lineage, she wasn't very keen on him and the idea of marriage, but he proved overtime to be a very patient and kind man with her, who cherished her for who she was and never berated her for behaviour or eccentricities. For the first time in her life, Amélie felt understood and not judged, though many in society and in her husband entourage disliked her bizarre characters. 

Shortly after her marriage, rumours of a war against Soul Society started echoing within the Kindgom, which wrecked fear and chaos amonsgt people who feared for their future. Amélie decided to pick up some archery and proper fighting class, she had only been taught the basics of archery, as anything beyond was considered inappropriate at the time for a noble lady.

 She refused to be a spectator of her own downfall, should Soul Society attack them and didn't trust the army to protect them as her husband had a strong dislike for Yhwach and often voiced his concerns towards his intentions. 

She found a teacher who presented themselves as expert if the arts of archery and with experience training military and mercenaries alike. She found herself absolutely thrilled and taken aback by the arts of fighting and the adrenaline it provided. She trained everyday for many hours and started excelling in precision. Her teacher saw her passion as well as the look on her face whenever she shoot, sensing a much darker edge and urges to her personality. Then suggested she tried to join the military or a brotherhood of contractors. 

She first refused knowing her husband and family would never approved. But her teacher insisted that it would be a waste of talents and that it would be very difficult for her to live a normal life within society; if her needs weren't satisified and controlled within an appropriate framework. She risks ending up locked up in asylum, prison or w orst being accused and burned for witchcraft.

She felt extremely conflicted as her life was about to start relatively normal and under control, but she couldn't deny that learning to fight had awaken an urge in her she could no longer resist. 

Early assassin life:

After a long dilemma she agreed for her teacher to introduced her to a contact to work as an assassin for the court. She was put to test and underwent very specific training for months to perfect her skills, as well as learned the art of dissimulation, as well teach her the ideology of the Empire. She cared very little for the latter, but she figured she'd better be good at pretending she did, if she wanted to carry on. 

After a few months of training, she started off as a spy, in charge of spotting dissidence and resistance against Yhwach and his regime. Then once, established as trustworthy and efficient, she was entrusted with carrying on the assassination of some of the dissident. At last. 

But amongst those dissident she has unveiled a correspondance involving her own husband, upon investigating in their home, she found out she was indeed involved with a group of rebel and held a lot of influence within their groups. 

She found herself once again in a difficult dilemma, though at this point she had gone too far to turn around and back off. She had known this might likely happened and gone in secret to work as assassin for court. She decided to go for a quiet and clean sleep while Pierre was asleep. A first and sad first killl, that yet brought her a feeling of being alive she had never felt before that couldn't compare to anything she'd known before, not even her feelings for her husband. 

People found out, she started earning the nickname of the black widow for murdering her own husband and she became a topic of horrors amongst society. Her family decided to disown her. 

First war:

Shortly after, war started waging with a surprise attack on Lietchreich from Soul Society. Amelie was tasked with helping civilians escape and find safe escape to the Wandenreich, spot the enemy, sabotage their campement, killed some of the low foot soldier. But she wasn't considered experience enough to against higher ups or other high risks missions. 

Wandenreich era:

After the war, she kept on working for the Empire, helping them spot dissident, as well as going on mission to the human world to spy on Shinigami's activities, carry on assassination, and helped rescue remaining Quincy in the world of living who wanted to escape to a safer land. 

While she originally didn't care for the Empire's ambitions and her interests solely lied in killing, after witnessing the horrors the war, the Wandenreich ideology and a sense of Quincy pride started to grow on her. 

She takes orders directly from Yhwach and his close entourage ie Jugram & his royal guards. She doesn't have a schrift, she's not a part of the Sternritter, but she may work with them and assist depending on her mission.

Reputation:

She's made quite a reputation for herself over the years. As an assassin she's known for her exceptional precision and one shot kill. A lot of people hated her amongst former noble society, she's viewed as a ruthless monster with no honour.

Personality:

She's usually quite cold and not the friendliest person, she often is very sarcastic and likes to trigger with her dark sense of humour.

She knows how to adapt, be charming and fake attitude or emotions when needed, but unless it's needed she doesn't really care about her actions and words affect other people. As kid and adult she was seen as weird for her bluntless and lack of empathy. The way she functions borders that of a sociopath.

Views on Shinigami & Hollows:

She hates them. She views them as a very backwards and power hungry society. After the first war, she fully endorsed Yhwach's ideology and that the world would be a better place if rule by Quincy and without Shinigami. She believes Shinigami's methods are gross and unmethodical, though she does a bit of a morbid admiration for some of their most blood thirst fighter.

Hollows she believes are inferior and brainless creatures.

[kokonattsu-tokui]

Stone Cold Killer (Draft)

I'm working on a fanfiction named "Stone Cold Killer". Will be on Killer and Dust... maybe a ship? I don't really know for now-

It's inspired by:

The song "Stone Cold Killer" from @/SharaX (Youtube)

The headcanons and incorrect quotes from @/b4d_.s4turn (Instagram)

Some drawings from @/anothertale_neil (Instagram)

Here are the first paragraphs!

Warning: I don't usually write light stuff. There's nothing explicit though.

Who has never dreaded the urban evening?

Black falls in a sinuous way or instantly. This lying shade, this oppressive atmosphere giving you the impression of suffocating in your sleep... This feeling of cold, morbid, ominous. That gives goose bumps and makes you at bay. After all, when the lightness of the day fades behind the insipid buildings, the shadows emerge from their hideout and inexorably blossom, engulfing the slightest gleam remaining on their path, taking back their rights that had been taken from them the night before. Sneaky and fearsome. Never inhabitants nor travelers appreciate them. Like the plague, they must be avoided at all costs and the reflex is to find a weapon, the smallest light to defend oneself against them. Flashlight, mobile phone... Whichever.

At night, the immense, effervescent and reassuring city becomes the lair of darkness, an untrustworthy and hungry monster. Only a few lights deign to illuminate, from time to time in a great act of kindness, passersby of a minute lost out of home. Black is a sign of disclosed crime, hidden forbidden passion, dissimulated hatred. The screams are silenced in the depths of the dead ends, breaths are held or wheezing. The danger invades the neighborhoods, roams tirelessly, progresses noiselessly, corrupts and devours the soul and the body. Nothing belongs to anyone anymore: houses like reason, the word of the child like the one of the woman. It is impossible to distinguish the truth from the lie, the shelter from the trap, the friend from the enemy, the human from the animal. When the sun moves away, the true colors of the world unveil themselves under this dark canvas.

Thus, all cats are grey at night.

[frozenambiguity]

Today's thoughts reside on the relationship between Kaeya and Varka.

There is little that we know about Varka, apart from a few mentions regarding his connections to a few characters and the fact that he has embarked on a journey and took all the cavalry with him. The overall impression that we get is that he is highly respected and looked upon by the community, and even idealized by some, be it the knights, the citizens of Mond, or outsiders ( take Childe's opinion, for example ).

We also know for a fact that Kaeya tends to act in a somewhat dissimulated // cold // calculative way in order to attain his goals and that he bears no shame in his controversial methods. He fraternizes with the enemy, he has dealings with the black market, and he puts other people in risky situations. So you might be asking: Cláudia, what does one thing have to do with another? Well. There is a certain voice line of Kaeya that has always stuck with me:

"There are a total of ten captains within the Knights of Favonius. But truth be told, not all of them have what it takes to be leaders."

I know Kaeya is talking about the captains and not the highest positions of Acting Grandmaster and Grandmaster, but this voice line has always made me question the exact qualities that Kaeya approves of when it comes to leadership. And how Varka, precisely, seems to suit that role in Kaeya's eyes.

We know for certain that Kaeya's views are not one hundred percent aligned with the idealistic, heroic ambitions many KoF possess. Due to his life experiences, you can even say that he has a certain disenchantment with the way the world works ( in the sense that he views the world in different shades of grey. Not everything is marvelous and not everything is catastrophic --- good and evil both coexist, as do light and shadow, and that is the natural order of things ).

But what is interesting to me is that Kaeya approves Varka's way of operating. We do not know the exact details so far. We do not even know what the intent of the expedition that made Varka depart with the cavalry really is. We only know that it must be something grand for it to be so secretive and require so many resources, and important enough for the highest person in charge to entrust Mondstadt to the care of others. But Varka's modus operandi is mentioned by Kaeya multiple times:

"Now that you mention him, it is a shame there is no one in the Knights of Favonius to inherit the Grand Master's approach to his work. *sigh* I must say I really do appreciate people like him."

This gives me the impression that, although ethical, Varka must be someone capable of understanding the way the world works and acting realistically on it. That is to say: he might approach situations as someone who is not afraid to dirty their hands when the circumstances demand it. And someone who is not afraid to be secretive about his carefully crafted plans. Sounds familiar?

Kaeya and Varka have had a somewhat philosophical discussion regarding justice and what exactly it entails, and I wish we had more context about it. A debate concerning a topic so heavy seems to imply that their relationship is not merely one of employer and employee. Kaeya freely exposes his way of thinking to Varka, who no doubt has noticed Kaeya's special way of dealing with things:

"Justice is not an absolute principle, but the result of striking that fine balance between strength and strategy. As for the details of how it's done... Don't worry yourself too much about that." Kaeya once said these words in front of Grand Master Varka.

It is interesting to notice that, although Kaeya's methods may be questioned, people like his comrades and Jean still decide to follow and support him. They trust his intuition. Varka must be no exception. Not that their relationship is necessarily 100% based on trust: Kaeya has dismissed Varka's worries regarding his past and arrival in Mondstadt --- something that, too, confirms that Varka might suspect people's true motives easily, much like Kaeya does. 

Even when the Grand Master demanded information on his background, Kaeya skirted around the issue and gave only vague answers devoid of details.

I really wish we had more information about these two, because all in all, this got me wondering about Kaeya's and Varka's methods of operating and whether they are similar in nature, in general, and their way of understanding each other, in particular.

Could it be that the inner workings of these two characters are somewhat similar? Varka certainly seems to be more righteous than Kaeya is, perhaps because his position demands it. But he still trusted Kaeya enough to allow him into their ranks, although he had demanded clarity from Kaeya before and was not met with it.

Only time will reveal the true purpose of Varka's expedition, his true character, his objectives, and the role the KoF will play in the grand scheme of things.