#embrace ennui

[ozzgin]

content: gender neutral reader, religious themes, blasphemy, NSFW, horror

Something is wrong with your beloved Angel, yet you cannot place the dreadful feeling in the depths of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't made to comprehend such divine truths.

5. Honour thy father and thy mother

It was birthed from the void of the Heavens. No parent governs over its will. No being controls its resolve.

Father...? The word rings and echoes across ancient times, forgotten eons. It does not remember its meaning. All it knows is you, and you are enough.

4. Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy

"Six days you shall labor, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord, your God." Of course. The law is clear, or at least it should be. Its mind navigates the meaning, suddenly engulfed by a mysterious haze.

Six days it labors, it serves, it worships. It exists for you, to please you and fulfill your desires. Your wish is its command.

Six days of creation. It has been molded just for you, to fit all the nooks and corners of your body and soul. You have taught it how to love, how to crave, how to need. It starves for your touch.

3. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain

"Oh, God", you cry, clinging to the holy beast. It shivers in raw bliss, its many hands embracing your lewd body, drooling and panting in unquenchable desire. Its mind is possessed by one singular thought: to breed you, to own you, to fuck more profanities out of your pretty, little mouth.

The word swirls inside its head, baptized to a new sense: God is when you reach your peak, when you're within its voracious hold. Your trembling hands reach for the horns.

2. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image

It yearns to create, to be the architect for once. Your home is littered in unfinished pieces: bizarre, geometrical paintings, abstract statues chiseled in most refined detail, music sheets of notes foreign to your human ears. All of them have something in common - it's how the Angel perceives you.

You fill up its senses, and the essence drips onto its works of art. It gathers the objects of worship together, like the outline of an altar, like an inviting chamber of prayer.

1 Thou shalt have no other gods before me

The abyssal creature bows before you, its many eyes devouring your form. The long, black claws reach out, like a beggar scraping its way out of the depths of ennui.

You're a blessing from the Heavens.

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist] | [First Half]

[lovebugism]

“I’m not the easiest person to talk to, or be around. It’s… hard for other people to love me. I get that.” with Eddie? Maybe he and reader are sorta rivals or frenemies?

here's an unsolicited part 2 to this fic! hope you like it :D — eddie knows you like him now, so you find it extremely hard to be normal around him accordingly (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, more succession references, 2.3k)

You walk into the Hideout behind Steve and Robin, hands trembling and sticky with sweat. 

The humid air of the overcrowded bar and the overwhelming stench of cheap beer do little to quell your swirling stomach. The too-loud music and bustling bodies are hardly more than a harsh reminder of the last time you were here — pouring your heart out to Eddie Munson in the form of anxious word vomit, only to be hopelessly turned away. 

Not quite rejected but hardly embraced, which is somehow more embarrassing. 

“You alright?” Steve asks once you’ve ducked into the dim hallway of the backstage area. 

The music and muddled chatter are mostly stifled now, but the walls continue to pulse with life — riddled with chipping paint and dubious stains that only add to your unease. You try to swallow down your distant ennui, hoping it isn’t as obvious as it feels. (It is). Your loud feelings are too big for your body, and it’s got your face softly screwed together like you’ve tasted something sour.

The concerned glint in Steve’s eyes makes you cower. “Yeah. I’m peachy,” you deadpan with an unconvincing shrug. “Why?”

“‘Cause you look like we’re leading you to slaughter,” Robin scoffs.

“You’re asking me to be nice to Eddie Munson for two hours,” you grouse. “So, excuse me if I’m not the most chipper.”

The brunette girl flashes you a look over her shoulder, ocean eyes smudged with dark liner. “Scared you’ll spontaneously combust?” she jokes with her hand wrapped around the rusted knob of the faux greenroom. It feels more like her chipped maroon nails have grabbed your heart and twisted.

“Terrified,” you monotone just before she swings the door open.

The tiny, windowless room smells like sweat and grocery store cologne. It’s crowded with vanity mirrors, plastic folding chairs, and suitcases — hardly big enough for a heavy metal band. 

The three of you run into Gareth and Jeff on your way in. The two look nothing like themselves as you shuffle past them in the doorway, sharing fleeting glances and awkward greetings as you go. A couple of D&D nerds in leather and eyeliner feels almost uncanny.

It’s the same with Eddie, sort of. Curls drenched with sweat, eyes smudged black, tanktop damp around the neckline — a total rockstar. You’re not sure if it’s the raucous outfit stirring your stomach or the body wearing it.

“Oh, shit— You assholes actually showed!” Eddie beams at the sight of you. “And you dressed for the occasion, too.”

The boy in all black and silver stands before the three of you, still dressed in corporate attire after working late shifts. Steve and Robin look at least mostly normal without the Family Video vests and branded name tags. You, however, look like one of those businesswear catalogs brought to life — glaringly out of place. 

“You sayin’ The Gap isn’t proper Hideout attire, Munson?” Steve quips, holding his arm out for a friendly (only slightly awkward) side embrace.

Eddie slaps the back of the boy’s collared shirt with a ringed hand. “Claire’s is more metal than The Gap,” he teases, then turns to hug Robin. “At least Buckley looks halfway normal.”

“And by normal, you mean hot, right?” she jokes, voice deep and gritty and effortlessly sultry.

He scoffs. “Obviously.”

Eddie has no trouble greeting Steve and Robin but loses most of his cool when he turns to you.

The not-so confession at Benny’s Burgers seemed to change more things between you than the heart-felt one you shared here not too long ago. He feels a bit weird, knowing now that you meant what you said — that you actuallyliked him, and that it wasn’t just some cruel joke. 

He feels like he’s got cool points to win with you now. And it makes him achingly aware of when he inevitably loses them.

“Look at you,” Eddie grins, tossing his chin back to shake wild curls from his face. A few chestnut strands cling stubbornly to his sticky forehead. The milky white tendons of his neck shine with sweat, too. “You look like an actual human person.”

“Wow. Thanks, Eds,” you monotone, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a compliment. You cross your arms over the chest of your fitted turtle neck and joke, “I’d say that same, but… you look like a poodle that just washed up on shore.”

Robin mumbles your name through gritted teeth, flashing you a look and poking you on the shoulder. She scolds you like a parent, as though to say be nice without actually saying the words out loud.

“What?” you shrug.

Eddie only chuckles — a low and honeyed sound he presses to your ear when he brings you suddenly in for a hug. His lean body meets yours, soft and strong and slightly clammy. His skin smells like deep cologne, minty aftershave, and very faintly of boy. You tense when his hands cradle your back.

“Oh,” you mumble in surprise, floundering at the affection as you attempt to hold him back. “Okay.”

“How’s the nine-to-five?” Eddie asks after he parts from you, sounding almost like he cares. “Boring the absolute shit outta you?”

You shrug with an air of nonchalance and hope you don’t look as flustered by his attention as you feel. “Oh, you know… Burying the bodies, counting the cash.”

“Gotta picture of me in your little cubicle?”

“Tons,” you answer. “It’s basically an Eddie Munson shrine.”

His smile widens to show all his teeth. His chocolate eyes glitter with mischief, too, like he knows what he’s doing to you. 

Eddie gives you a break from his suffocating stare and looks to Steve and Robin standing on his other side. You feel like you can finally breathe. “I told Greg at the bar to give my friends free beer tonight— just show him your ID or whatever,” the boy tells them.

“Oh, my god— I could kiss you right now,” Robin mumbles.

Eddie’s plush pink lips curl into a half-smirk when he turns to you again. “So try not to run up your tab tonight, alright, sweetheart?” he quips and pats you on the arm. It’s easier to joke that he hadn’t mentioned you at all when your name was first from his lips. Which is totally a joke you would’ve made.

You flash Steve and Robin a wide-eyed look of annoyance, jaw clenched to contain all the insults you instinctively want to spew. “He got us free beers,” the former cautions with a sympathetic shrug. “Don’t ruin it.”

You roll your eyes and hear them leave behind you — not even trying to pretend like they didn’t swing byfor the beers. Eddie’s stupid grin widens when you stay. “You heard the man. Means you gotta be nice to be all night.”

“Right,” you scoff like it’s funny. Steve The Hair Harrington doesn’t exactly scream figure of authority to you. Robin Buckley, maybe. But definitely not Steve.

“Think you can do it without spontaneously combusting?” he quips.

You hate that he knows you so well. “Not particularly,” you deadpan.

Eddie tilts his wild head to the side and sends you a pretty, tight-lipped smile. “Well, you’re doing a great job already.”

His praise is sarcastic. You know this already, so you’re not sure why it has your stomach doing backflips. “Thanks…” you mumble, inherently shrinking inside yourself as you attempt to make small talk. “How, uh— How was the show?”

“Fine,” the boy hums, shrugging his pale shoulders. “Same set from last time. Same crowd of drunks.”

“Sorry I missed it.”

“Eh. Don’t be. You’ve actually got important shit going on— Don’t worry about me.”

“Your shit’s important, too,” you argue without thinking, perhaps more shocked by your sincerity than the boy ahead of you. You follow quickly and much more harshly, “I guess.”

Eddie smiles wordlessly. You start to squirm in place. He watches you grow suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin as you seem to look everywhere but back at him. The pink expression ebbs into a more concerned one. “You okay?”

You hate the question more the second time. 

“Fine,” you monotone, hardly convincing.

He squints. “Then why aren’t you looking at me?”

“I am looking at you,” you argue just to argue, giving him a measly glance before turning away a moment later.

“No, seriously,” Eddie chuckles, reaching out to touch you. “What’s going on?”

His ringed hand caresses the outside of your elbow. You jerk back on instinct, more aggressive than you mean to be. 

“Nothing!” you huff, looking so far away from him that he can only see your profile. You grumble like a storm cloud, “You just— You make me go all weird. As you know. And fully intend.”

“That’s what this is all about?” Eddie chuckles. “You got a little crush on me?”

He reaches out for you again, this time digging his fingers into the junction of your neck. You swat him away with a harsh hand. You hate the way his touch makes your skin buzz. 

“You’re such a dick,” you groan before spinning on your heel. Your slacks swish around your ankles as you walk the very short distance to the door. Eddie’s footsteps sound much heavier in comparison as he rushes behind you. 

“Hey, hey, hey! C’mon. I’m just kidding,” he assures, still laughing as he slides his body between you and the exit. He meets your glare with a crooked smile. “It’s okay. I got a crush on you back— you know that.”

You hate how easily the words spill from his mouth, how cool he is about all of it compared to the time bomb you’ve become — tick tick ticking away as your anxiety builds. You figure this stupid crush (or whatever he wants to call it) must mean more to you than it does to him. So again, you turn away.

Eddie knocks his worn sneaker against the toe of your pleather boot. “Just because you don’t believe me doesn’t make it any less true, you know?” he tells you, quiet and suddenly serious as he tilts his cheek to his shoulder. “Doesn’t make me like you any less, either.”

His confession makes you feel funny. It makes you giddy and fills you with dread all at once. “It’s just… It’s weird,” is all you can think to say, after several long moments of silence.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I— I’m not— I don’t know,” you groan, bringing your hands to your face to hide behind your palms. “God, I did not intend to talk about this today.”

“Well, too late. We’re talking about it.”

Eddie takes a step away from the door, moving impossibly closer to you. He ducks his chin to meet your sheepish gaze, dark eyes sparkling with visible concern. 

You step back from him on instinct and talk wildly with your hands. “No! Tonight was supposed to be about you— about you’re fucking show— not about me!”

Brows raised and hidden behind his sweat-drenched bangs, he monotones. “Say it.”

A stubborn sigh puffs out your lips. “I just… I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to. Or to be around. I know that,” you confess. “I know it’s hard for people to like me, but… you do, and I really don’t fucking get it, okay? It just feels like you’re playing a big, dumb prank on me.”

Eddie stays silent for a moment, chocolate gaze unwavering as he ponders your words. 

“Wait, so…” the boy trails off, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You’re mean to me, but I like you anyway, and because I can see through all the— faux bitchiness or whatever— You have a hard time… being around me?”

Your eyes flit to the ceiling for a moment. You look back at him and nod. “Yeah, that’s… That’s pretty much the gist of it, yeah.”

Eddie beams before he can help it, filling the dingy room with golden sunshine. “Well, you know how we get past that, right?” he wonders and scrunches the bridge of his nose.

You get the feeling he’s teasing you still, but you entertain him anyway. “What?”

“Us being boyfriend-girlfriend—”

“Eddie,” you groan with your head tilted back, only partly pretending to be annoyed. You don’t step back from him when he inches closer to you this time, though. You don’t jerk away from his touch when his hands caress your forearms, either. 

“I know you wanna…” he lilts, pulling you closer with ringed fingers wrapped gently around your wrists. Your shoes scuff the carpet as you stumble into his chest. “It’s why I make you go all funny, right?”

You squint up at him, with hate in your eyes and your heart in your throat. “You’re so annoying,” you deadpan.

“Okay, how about this? We can just go on one date, alright?” Eddie offers, smoothing his guitar-string calloused fingers up your shoulders. “Nothin’ fancy, I promise. Just bottomless breadsticks at Enzo’s at seven. And you, bottom-less at my place at eight.”

Your knotted stomach does a backflip at his words, but you keep glaring at him anyway. “And who says you don’t know how to flirt?” you squint.

Another chuckle spills from his plush, pink lips. His tongue darts out to wet them a second later — mouth desperate to be kissed. “‘Kay. Fine. How about we just makeout in my van after closing? And I try not to be a total idiot and ruin it like last time?”

He’s much more serious now. You can see it in his very expressive button eyes. He’s borderline pleading now, for a second chance he never needed to ask for. 

You cave, far quicker and with a lot less fight than he expected. “Fine,” you shrug with an unenthusiastic huff.

Eddie smiles so big, it’s like you’ve just told him you loved him or something — all his teeth on display — so wide and full of adoration it almost hurts. 

[minispidey]

01. Unclaimed Wedding Vows.

Duke James 'Logan' Howlett x f!reader CHAPTER ONE: THE LADY'S DILEMMA

warnings: besides me being extra descriptive, none. Leclaire is just a random last name for reader's family, and isn't coded as any race. OLD MAN LOGAN! ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I had a dictionary and a dream.

summary: A new season has dawned for you, Lady Leclaire, and this time, the stakes are higher. Your father is encouraging you to seek out a suitor, a contrast to the previous season when you made your debut but remained a mere spectator, and avoided the social whirl around you. This year, none of the debutants have managed to capture the queen's eye... that is, until the arrival of Duke James Howlett, who has unexpectedly entered the market. His entrance has changed the dynamics of the season entirely, bringing in whispers of intrigue and the promise of romance.

word count: 4.1k no beta we dying like logan 2017 (edit 12/7/24: edited some parts that i thought weren't needed. It just really stretches out the story. Anyways as usual, english is not my first language)

series masterlist.

The Queen is no stranger to the drama and heartache that come with reluctant or unfortunate brides and grooms—after all, her children often create quite the spectacle. The quest for the perfect match is a thrilling dilemma shared by every woman, even the Queen herself.

Under the dulcet tones of courtly sounds, a buzz of pressure was felt as the mamas whispered amongst themselves, feeling that they were up against unfair competition. With every new lady, the stakes climbed higher, and the probability of their daughters getting one of those marvelous matches became even smaller.

All the mamas, except for yours, panicked. You stood among the other women after being cooped up for the entire season. This time, you felt trapped, as your father had finally returned home to guide you.

You watched intently as each young lady glided toward the Queen, curtsying with grace and poise, only to be waved away almost instantly. The Queen sat majestically on her throne, appearing bored, her eyes glancing over the newcomers without a flicker of curiosity or admiration. Each presentation seemed to blend into the next, as though she were trapped in a routine, her expression one of deep ennui. It was clear she had encountered countless hopefuls before, and they were nothing more than fleeting shadows in her world.

"And I assume you didn't have the opportunity to introduce yourself to the Queen during the last season?" your father inquired, his gaze fixed intently on the unfolding presentation.

You released a quiet exhale. "I did not."

"Perhaps it is not too late to gain her blessing then."

You shut your eyes tightly, yearning for the comforting embrace of your soft blankets, wrapped securely in the sanctuary of your bedroom. The dim light of the suffocating room pressed in on you, making every breath feel heavy and labored. Even the tiny, cramped space beneath a table offered a sense of solace, an escape from the atmosphere that surrounded you.

"I believe I do not need the Queen's blessing to gain a husband." You opened your eyes and met the gaze of the men across the room, all ogling you and vying for your attention.

"But it certainly would help."

"Father." As you turned your head to meet his gaze, he gently pressed two fingers against your cheek, a firm yet tender gesture that redirected your focus back to the Queen. The movement felt like a subtle command, leaving you with a sense of unease.

Everyone knew Lord Leclaire’s sweet but spoiled daughter. You were the cherished only child of his first love, a woman whose memory lingered like a delicate perfume throughout the halls. As the sole offspring of a father who mourned a lost love, you basked in the benefits that came with being the only child of a wealthy widower. One of the most significant perks was the freedom to indulge in every whim, as your father poured his affection and resources solely into you, ensuring that your every desire was met with lavish gifts and endless attention.

Deep down, you understood that you were worthy of nothing less than the finest luxuries.

You favored silk that cascaded softly against your skin over any mere satin; you would always choose a decadent cake, rich with layers of flavor, instead of a simple slice of bread. Lace trim, with its intricate beauty, was your preference over the ordinary ribbons that could never capture the same elegance.

It is no different for your future husband. While your father and governess might worry that your high standards would scare men away, the reality is quite the contrary. Instead of feeling intimidated, they find themselves irresistibly drawn to you, captivated by the magnetic allure that lies behind your icy gaze. Even with the cool, distant expression on your features, it only seems to heighten their curiosity and determination, making them yearn to uncover the warmth that they sense lies beneath.

You chose to disregard the men around you, even those who struggled to position themselves beside you. Each one of them was aware of your allure, for you were undeniably the most desirable woman in the room.

There no doubt that you knew exactly what you wanted.

The ideal husband embodies a man of immense respect and admiration within his community, someone whose character and achievements inspire others. He possesses a substantial income that not only assures financial stability but also enables a luxurious lifestyle adorned with beautiful estates and properties. Above all, he shall be someone with whom you share a deep emotional connection, a person who ignites your heart and soul, making you genuinely fall in love.

Even in tough times, your heart stayed open to romance, a belief instilled by your parents' words on love's power. They taught you that every love story holds magic, so you refused to settle for less than your ideals. The thought of growing old alone felt better than being with someone who didn’t meet your high standards for love.

Some mamas convince their daughters to settle for what they can have, and luckily (or unluckily), your mother had passed away so she had no say in who you would marry. But if she were alive, she would encourage you to keep searching for the one.

You sat in front of your dressing table as your father delicately placed down each one of the gifts he bought for you on your soft carpeted floor. All the boxes were wrapped with bright paper and ribbons that shone under soft light.

You absent-mindedly played with a chest filled with a variety of trinkets: delicate porcelain figurines of cats, shimmering glass beads, and rusty old coins, each speaking of far-off places.

"That presentation was a disaster, if I may say so, Father," you remarked. "The Queen seemed unsatisfied and I feel very bad for those young ladies involved."

"Don't worry, my dear. All the young ladies will have another opportunity to flatter the Queen tonight when she hosts her ball," your father said softly, a gentle smile spreading across his face.

He put a slice of cake in front of you, the scent of vanilla and frosting wafting up to greet your senses. "I just brought it home this afternoon. It seemed to be quite the hit at the bakery."

"Even so, the Queen is fussy. She knows exactly what she wants and exactly what she deserves." And you accepted a slice of cake from him, bit into it, and he made no allowance for such an unladylike manner.

"She knows her choice cannot be just a simple lady—someone who can proudly yet modestly reveal she is Her Majesty's favorite, embodying every trait a lady possesses or desires."

You stood up from your mirror and stepped out onto the balcony. The breeze tousled your hair while the sun danced across your skin. Your presence startled a cluster of doves on the railings, who flew away in a flurry of white feathers.

"Perhaps I have a chance..."

Your father smiled, thinking that you would seek the favor of the Queen and then secure a place of honor in her court. However, as he smiled at you with that gleam of expectation in his eyes, your thoughts went elsewhere. You couldn't help but think that if the Queen wielded the power to select her favored ones, then surely you too could find a husband who meets your expectations— someone who embodies those qualities you want and actually deserves your heart.

Far from the Leclaire house, a lavish carriage adorned with intricate gold detailing, and luxurious silk stopped in front of the Queen's grand palace. The arrival drew the eyes of the servants peering from the ornate windows, their breaths caught in awe as the distinguished Duke Howlett stepped out. His walk was far from graceful, marked by a heavy, almost cumbersome stride; yet, with every step he took, he demanded the whole world’s attention, as if the very air shifted at his presence.

The Queen sat on her throne, her heart fluttering with anticipation for her friend’s arrival. She clapped her hands twice, signaling the musicians to stop. As silence enveloped the grand hall, she took a deep breath, savoring the stillness before her friend's entrance.

The elderly man slowly stepped into the room, his soft curled silver hair glinting softly in the light as he bowed his head, a gesture of respect. A sharp jolt of pain surged through his back, causing him to stifle a groan that escaped his lips. His frame remained strong, but telltale signs of age were etched on his skin, and shaking his hands revealed fragility in his bones.

"Is that as low as you can go, old man?" the Queen raised an eyebrow.

The Duke exhaled softly, a hint of relief washing over him as he straightened his posture, pulling his shoulders back. "If I could humble myself any further, Your Majesty," he said with a wry smile, "I would find myself six feet under."

"Logan! My dearest friend, why have you come?" A chuckle escaped the Queen. "I suppose you will be joining the gentlemen this season to search for a bride. You are getting, oh so very old."

With a long sigh, he nodded. "And you would be right."

The Queen drops her cup of tea and her eyes are blown wide open. "Are you trying to kill me? I could have you executed for attempting to do so." she laughed loudly.

"I am the last Howlett. If I want to continue my family name, I need a wife to bear my children." Logan coughed into a handkerchief before quickly composing himself. "Any lady will do, as long as she won't disturb me."

"Nonsense!" the Queen exclaimed, clapping her hands loudly and surprising her ladies, who were busy cleaning up the spilled tea and the broken cup. "You are a highly respected man. A Duke! Do you think I would allow you to marry a simple lady? You shall marry my diamond!"

"While Her Majesty is very kind, I would prefer not to spend too much time searching."

"I know I am very kind," the Queen huffed. "For I would be the one spending too much time looking— I was not even planning on looking for one. You are very welcome."

"I am not very selective, Your Majesty. Any lady will suffice." The Duke shook his head.

"Then you should have married a maid," the Queen said, cutting off the Duke's response with a raised hand. "I do not tolerate objections. I am doing you a favor, and it is an insult to refuse a gift. As your most humble and loyal friend, I cannot accept your decision to marry merely any lady."

From a tender age, the Duke was aware of the dynamics that surrounded individuals of high status. Placed in the role of Duke early in life, he quickly became the center of attention, a figure that drew gaze and admiration from all. At lavish gatherings, young ladies would shamelessly fight for his attention, their motives often far from innocent. Such experiences led him to retreat from the social scene altogether, burying himself in the labyrinthine of his duties.

Years passed since then, and while he amassed vast wealth and commanded respect, the relentless march of time had etched deeper lines into his visage, a testament to his toil. In his pursuit of success, the concept of legacy slipped through his fingers like sand. The urgency of fatherhood, the need to secure a successor to inherit the family fortune and the sprawling estates, faded into the background, overshadowed by the relentless demands of his work.

He retraced his steps through the grand palace hallways, made elegant with tapestries and chandeliers that spoke of the royal family's rich history. The scent of polished wood lingered in the air as he entered his carriage.

As the carriage rolled through the bustling streets of London, he gazed out at the vibrant city. He was heading to his estate—a property that had been neglected from his infrequent visits. Despite its silence and overgrown gardens, he had ensured everything was prepared, as this time he sought a bride.

The estate needed to be more than just a residence; it had to convey wealth and status, a place where a future wife could envision a life of comfort and elegance. As he approached the imposing estate between tall trees and trimmed hedges, a shiver ran down his spine.

Change loomed over him like a storm cloud, heavy and foreboding. Everyone knew that the Duke didn't take kindly to anything that came between himself and his well-planned world.

In a dazzling celebration marking the start of the season, the Queen organized a magnificent ball.

The grand ballroom was decked with sparkling chandeliers, and the air carried the sweet melodies of an orchestra that enticed everyone to dance. The Queen initially wanted not to attend her ball at all. Her change of mind came when there was the unexpected arrival of Duke James Howlett - a man of nobility seeking a worthy Duchess. His presence sparked great commotion, forcing the Queen to reverse her decision and plunge deep into the celebration before her. Everyone moved graciously in unity across the polished floor within the grand ballroom while soft, sweet melodies filtered in the air from the orchestra, wrapping around each of the elegantly attired couples and bouncing off the ceiling lined with sparkling chandeliers.

Amidst the vibrant gathering, you stood there elegantly commanding the room's attention. The soft murmur of admiration reverberated in the air as captivated gazes fell upon you like the breaking of the clouds. Your beauty shone with an enchanting glow and drew intrigued whispers from those around you. The debutantes, dressed in their finest, exchanged glances, all in agreement that you were the epitome of allure, the most desirable woman present.

The men ogled, all desiring you— the impossible. You glanced at them with a sharp look in your eye, ready to pounce and overpower those who dared to come too close. Intimidation ran through the veins of the LeClaire family, a legacy passed down through generations as an artful weapon to draw out the right partner. Your father never quite mastered it, but you had it in spades.

A coarse hand jerked you against the warmth of a muscular body. You gasped sharply, your breath catching as crimson wine splattered across your silk dress, the bright stain blooming like a dark flower against the delicate fabric. Turning to face the source of this unexpected collision, you saw the culprit—a flustered figure retreating into the collar of his tailored suit, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Now you are looking at the rough, ancient man that pulled you against his chest. For a moment you were lost in the green depth of his eyes: the color of a rain-soaked forest. But then, with a sharp jolt, you feel yourself pulling away from his grasp, looking back to the deep red stain on your dress.

"This is silk-" you hissed, your voice laced with barely controlled anger that threatened to bubble over at any moment, like a pot that is about to boil over. Every fiber of your body was aflame with fury as you clutched the fabric, feeling the smooth texture slip through your fingers, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within you.

Before you can vent your pent-up anger, a voice cuts in on you, surprising you by its calmness. "On behalf of the gentleman, I profoundly apologize, my lady," the old man says, his face showing a hint of concern. His eyes meet yours for a moment before he adds, "I will summon a servant immediately to assist you."

His voice slowly relieved the fiery tension within your heart. You took a deep breath, feeling centered "I accept your apology," you responded with an elegant curtsy as if to hold off the weight of the moment. "However, I feel I should retire for the night."

You watch as he opens his mouth, in probable protest, and you spin on your heel, cutting him off before a single word escaped his lips. The atmosphere in the room grew stressful, as if it was squeezing the air from your lungs.

Every glance is like a sharp dart, piercing through you, and one can almost hear the stifled giggles that lie just under the surface. The picture remains in your head: this once-towering ice princess, now reduced to become the target of their teasing, a crimson wine stain spreading like an unwanted prophecy across her elegant dress, an emblem of the embarrassment from the evening.

You stepped warily through the garden, surrounded by the sweet scent of flowers when suddenly a firm hand gripped your wrist.

You turned around quickly with that swift pull and lost your airy handkerchief. As you regained your balance, you looked up at the grizzled old man, his face a weathered map of worry. "My lady," he said, his voice gravelly yet warm, "please don't go just because a gentleman has clumsily spilled a drink upon your dress."

"I've never been one to enjoy parties," you said, your voice almost whispering above the din of conversation around you. You looked down at the dark red wine stain that seemed to mar the elegant weave of your dress. Your sigh was heavy as you continued, "I want only to go home. This accident is just the right reason to slip away."

He bows his head once more as an apology.

As you moved out of the grand palace, the old man lifted his head, and you caught a glimpse of your eyes for a moment as you passed. You half-turned, nodding towards your footman, who stood there just beyond the entrance. At your signal, he ran off, the fine weave of his livery rustling a little as he hastened to summon the carriage.

The afternoon light seeps through the curtains, and your eyes linger on the deep red stains your dress still bears from last night. Running your hand absent-mindedly over the silk, you hear the creak of the door as your maids enter the room.

"My lady," one of the called you, her voice full of excitement. "A package has arrived for you."

They cautiously approached your bed, where a huge light blue box was lying there. It was shrouded in beautiful wrappings, the expensive and opulent silk ribbon beautifully cascading over it. This sight made you curious; hence, you drew nearer to it.

"Who is it from?" Your fingers played gently with the smooth ribbon that bordered the box, feeling its softness as you waited for the surprise inside.

"We cannot say for sure, my lady," the maid said, furrowing her brow with worry. "What are we to do with it? Are we to throw it away?"

"No, I assure you, it is alright." you said, fingers twitching slightly as you fumbled to loosen the flimsy ribbon securing the tie. You gave it a gentle tug, unfolding the layers of paper under your fingers like delicate silken petals.

As you opened the box with utmost care, your gaze fell on a letter in it. The letter had a deep red wax for its seal, and this was stamped with an intricately designed crest that instantly took your breath away. This was undoubtedly a Duke's crest. A feeling of awe swept over you as you softly gasped and stood up in shock. HOWLETT.

"I don't believe it."

You ran back, your breath coming up in expectation as you unfolded the thin tissue paper that covered an amazing sight.

Lying before you was a gown unlike any you had ever seen—a vision of beauty and majesty. The silk shone dimly in the light, and its texture spoke of the skill of the finest artisans in the land. Your heart races for the reality of what actually had happened at the ball the other night: a real apology at the hands of a duke— and this beautiful gown. It's too ridiculous to think that he— the duke would hand to you something this private for you.

Was he scouting you as a potential Duchess?

You could hardly suppress an excited squeal as you sent your maids off, hoping for a few minutes to yourself. Holding the dress up against your chest, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, mesmerized by its beauty. Reaching your bed, you snatched the letter.

As you read the Duke's letter that accompanied the dress, newspapers fluttered all over town with their front pages splashed with the face of Duke James Howlett. His face was everywhere—the center of attention since last night's ball when whispers and glances revealed he was after a wife to elevate to duchess status.

Despite his age, the mamas eagerly nudged their debutantes to charm the Duke. After all, they had high hopes for a prestigious match in high society.

Every lady in town eagerly flocked to the modiste, set on getting new exquisite gowns that would dazzle the Duke at the upcoming ball. Silks and satins fluttered in the air as they envisioned the moment he would notice their carefully crafted attire. Meanwhile, the Duke, unaware of the flurry he inspired, focused on matters far different from the shimmering dresses vying for his attention.

Like when he received the dress he gave you.

"What is this?" he said raising his eyebrow, curiosity dancing across his eyes as he observed the box that his servant held in both hands, the elegant packaging soft to the touch, a deep light blue, and silky ribbon tied across it shining under the warm light of the room. It was that gift he had picked up for you, and couldn't help but wonder at what your reaction had been when you opened it.

He slowly raises the lid of the box.

Inside, the dress lies perfectly folded in delicate fabric. Alongside it is a letter, its envelope decorated with an elegant wax seal. As he tears it open, a wave of fragrance envelops him, the sweet, unmistakable scent of fresh roses wafting through the air and stirring memories within him of when he held you close. He opens the letter, revealing your beautiful handwriting, each stroke flowing across the page.

“Dearest Duke Howlett,

I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. I write to you with a heavy heart regarding the exquisite silk dress you so graciously gifted me.

As you may remember from last night’s event, a man accidentally spilled wine on the dress. Despite my best efforts to remedy the situation, the stain has proven stubborn.

Because of this, I think it’s best to return the dress to you. It deserves to be loved and worn as you intended. I am very sad to part with such a lovely piece, which brought me so much happiness.

Moreover, I find myself at a loss for words, as I cannot comprehend why a man of your esteemed stature would choose to bestow such an exquisite gown upon someone like myself. I am simply a lady, while you are a Duke. If my father were to witness this generous gesture, he might very well assume that you were proposing—a notion that brings a flush to my cheeks.

I deeply appreciate your kindness and generosity, and I hope to have the opportunity to discuss this matter further, perhaps with a dance.

With warmest regards...”

He finally learns your name, and as he reads it repeatedly. He softly whispers it to himself, allowing the syllables to linger in the air. A warm ember ignites in Logan’s chest, a stirring sensation that could be mistaken for something as simple as inflammation. Yet, deep down, he senses it might also be the dawning realization that he may have discovered a potential match—perhaps a true Duchess worthy of his affections.

tag list (open!) btw i cried when yall asked to be tagged ilysm: @dragovegogrimborn @manifester3 @buhitosueco @saltedcoffeescotch @angeiulst @moonpascal @v13nx @cleverfestivalconnoisseur @rexmeshlasblog @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @trickstersteve @tighrenicotine @luv4kook @steviebbboi @eldauvs @cards-and-daggers @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @awsome262338 @lustdotlove @jax-the-oregonian @misscrissfemmefatale @hereforthehitsbaby @lightupsketchersperson @st4rrlighttt @cherrypieyourface @blossoming-hotch @freythecrazyfae @sweetenerobert (shout out to robert for cheering me on while I wrote this with one hand and a dictionary in the other)

[tadpole-apocalypse]

Since patch 8 will be adding the shadow sorcerer subclass I’m finally going to do my durge run as an old dnd character I made named Faye.

She’s a half elf with the haunted one background, I intended to work on it with my dm, but I had to leave the group early on for mental health reasons so we never fleshed out her backstory. She was my first attempt to play dnd with an evil character but i wasn’t very good at it. She didn’t revel in being evil, she was just too lazy to do the right thing most of the time. She’s like Ennui from Inside Out 2.

Not sure if I’ll go the resist or embrace route, or even what romance she’ll do yet…🤔

[radiowendigo]

Anxiety was dealing with multiple panic episodes lately. It wasn’t too uncommon for her. But, her employees noticed that she would grip onto her arms to the point it would take a huge amount of strength to help release herself. Anxiety had also been experiencing these same type of panic episodes during the night, which awakened some or all of the emotions.

Despite having been unavailable for many of them, Ennui has seen them all. She wasn't always sure what to say or do in these kinds of situations. She felt guilty because Anxiety had always been so encouraging, supportive, and nice to her. She wished she could do more for her beloved. What kind of friend was she?. Deep down, Ennui as well feared that the other emotions would sense her secret feelings for Anxiety and get leaked in some way. All she could do in those moments was sympathize with Anxiety and wish her negative thoughts would subside.

Ennui woke up first in the middle of the night, which was the first time she did during Anxiety’s recent episodes. She slowly removed her white face mask and heard muffled whimpers distant to where the console was. Ennui furrowed her eyebrows and quietly got out of bed, moving past the others so as not to wake them, and trailing the noises as it made her way to the console. Anxiety was kneeling down in front of the console, hyperventilating, hair messy, and once again, hugging herself, gripping onto her arms in a deadly grip. Ennui rushed to Anxiety and kneeled down to her level in front of her, and placed her hands on hers.

“Anxiety, breathe, mon ami. Slowly.” Ennui said gently but looked concerned.

“I-I-I’m trying!” Anxiety breathed in a frantic tone, triggering tears which slowly began spilling down her cheeks. Ennui shushed her and rubbed her hands in an upside down motion in attempt to soothe her.

“Breathe with me.”

Anxiety nodded rapidly and Ennui inhaled and exhaled deeply, her low voice giving Anxiety a pleasant tingling sensation. Her voice had always been one of her favourite things about her. It was just calming and reassuring to her. Anxiety tried to repeat her but struggled.

“Again.” Ennui said in an engorging tone. They did this excerise three more times and finally, Anxiety was breathing normally, but was still gripping her arms. Ennui did not let go her hands.

“Anxiety, please let go of your arms, mon douce, you’re hurting your pretty arms.”

More tears fell from Anxiety’s eyes and nodded slowly releasing them, while Ennui carefully tugged along with her. Finally, Anxiety released her arms making Ennui sigh out of relief. At this point she let go of Anxiety’s hands. Anxiety looked up at Ennui in her distressed state, shaking less.

“I-I’m sorry Ennui, I know I’ve been doing this a lot lately, I don’t know why, I feel so bad and I know I’m disturbing your sleep, and I know you need your rest for the morning, and that I should just find a way to handle it myself, and—-“

“Shhh, hush, mon cher. You don’t need to apologize. Viens ici dans mes bras.”

Ennui pulled Anxiety into her arms, resting Anxiety’s cheek on her chest, Anxiety enjoyed the soft material of her black shirt. Ennui wrapped her long arms around Anxiety and held her in a strong but comforting embrace. Anxiety cried softly now from the exhaustion of the situation. Ennui stroked through Anxiety’s messy strands with one hand in an attempt to comfort her more. After a while, Anxiety’s cries subsided and Ennui placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, which Anxiety noticed blushing furiously. But didn’t say anything not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Are you alright now, Anxiety?” Ennui asked softly.

Anxiety exhaled and looked up at the indigo emotion. Her eyes were fatigued, bangs had creeped out underneath them, and her cheeks were tear-stained but smiled.

“Yeah, I am. Thank you..” Anxiety replied weakly, looking down flustered.

Ennui smiled warmly and placed her hand on Anxiety’s right cheek and gently guided it back to her face.

“Of course. That’s what we’re here for, right? You are never a bother to us. It’s a part of who you are. But it’s how you deal with it what matters, and you are trying. I see it.”

The orange emotion just stared at her in awe, and her smile grew wider.

“Thank you, Ennui. You really are the best.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Anxiety looked at Ennui’s hand that was resting on her cheek and put her right hand on top of hers, and kissed her palm. Revealing a shocked glance and gasp from Ennui. Her cheeks now forming a dark blush herself.

“But I will, ma chere.”

Ennui swiftly pulled her in her arms again embracing her. Anxiety wrapped her arms around Ennui as well and ran her fingers through her long hair. A couple minutes passed and Ennui looked down at Anxiety.

“Anxiety? Are you ready to try and go back to sleep?”

Anxiety yawned.

“Yeahh. I’m exhausted.”

“We should get some sleep. We have to get up in a couple hours.”

“Can I please sleep with you tonight? I don’t want this to end yet and I don’t want to be alone.” Anxiety asked a little desperate in the end.

“Oui, oui. Of course. Come, allons-y.” Ennui said in a caring tone, grabbing Anxiety’s hand. She led her to her bed, the others were still knocked out. Ennui climbed and scooted to her right side of her bed and laid down on her left side. Anxiety climbed afterwords and laid down next to Ennui, trying to give her space. This only made Ennui pull her closer, making Anxiety release a soft yelp and rested her head on her chest again. Ennui’s arms wrapped around Anxiety and used one to yank the cover over them.

Anxiety yawned, her eyes heavy. Ennui smiled softly and kissed her forehead and the crown of her head gently.

“Sleep now, chere. Everything will be okay. I will be here if you need me.”

Anxiety nodded and shut her eyes, soon breathing softly but not with fear, indicating she fell asleep. Ennui placed a final kiss on her forehead and rested her chin on Anxiety’s head.

“Bonne nuit, mon amour.” Ennui whispered lovingly.

Ennui closed her eyes and the two emotions slept in each others embrace until Riley woke up. No one understood why Anxiety and Ennui were sleeping on the same bed but decided not to bring it up. Joy thought it was very sweet and couldn’t stop talking about it for a bit during that morning.

(Been having inside out/inside out 2 brain rot for the past week. I can’t stop looking, watching reading, content about it. It’s genuinely an amazing franchise. Also anxiety and ennui have been on my mind lately, ennui’s my fav lmao. I see the chemistry between these two. I’m a little embarrassed (No pun intended) to share this and thought it was a bit out of character on ennui’s part but reading over it so much I didn’t think so much. ANYWAYS enjoy to my anxiety and ennui lovers!! ^ ^)

They’re the first two women I’ve ever written while writing LMAO

And I don’t think I need to say but if there’s gonna be any hate, leave ‼️

[ravens-two]

PICK A CARD reading

How do other people see you?

Pile 1 -> Pile 2

Pile 3 -> Pile 4

Decks used: Dark Wood Tarot & Green Witch Oracle

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Strength & Banana

Main Star sign energy: Leo & Cancer

Hi, Pile 1, Banana is the card of duality and so I think that it may be that people see you in very different ways, like you're not very consensual to the general public. The people you meet can't really decipher you, some perceive you to be incredibly nice, while others find you off-putting. However, with this card and Strength I also feel like people turn to you a lot for advice. People find you to be very wise, and most of all, impartial. They trust that you will see things from every perspective and offer the best advice you can. This also means that some people see you as a devil's advocate, because you insist on giving voice to different points of view.

In general, I think that people perceive you as being very outspoken, you don't shy away from conflict, but you don't go looking for it either. It's just that it naturally finds a way to you and you can't help but stand up for yourself and others. I also feel like other people find you to be a very calming presence, I think that it's mix of it just being your vibe, but also that they know that they can count on you to help solve any problem that might come up.

A bit random, but I think that you are known to make dirty jokes and also your sense of humor is very underrated, kind of deadpan and sometimes others can't tell if you're being serious or not.

Other people see you as being very confident in yourself, even if you don't feel like that. There's a sort of confidence that shines through you. Also, you are known as being very loyal to your friends.

Pile 2

6 of Cups & Lemon

Main Star sign energy: Gemini, Scorpio & Cancer

Pile 2 the first thing I'm getting with your group is that you have big Cancer energy. Being with you feels like coming home. I think that the people closest to you feel almost "mothered" by you, I mean this in the best way possible, they know that they can count on you to make them a nice cup of tea, pull out a blanket and hear out their problems. You have a very safe presence.

Some not so nice energy that is also coming through is that some people think that you're stuck in the past. This sentence is coming through very clearly like this to me, but I think that it will apply differently to each of you. It might be a bit literal, like you refuse to embrace new technologies for example or it could be more like you are frequently reminiscing about the good old days. I think that sometimes you are seen as being a bit sad, like filled with ennui if that makes sense. Despite that, I think that you are someone who remembers. You always know your friends birthdays and you remember the little details about their lives, and they appreciate this so so much.

With the lemon card I think that you are very talkative, but only when you feel comfortable. And the interesting thing is, when you get to the stage where you're really really comfortable you start to hold back less and less and you end up being a bit mean with your words. You're not trying to be mean, but they might sting a bit because you're brutally honest. Also, with lemon being the card of cleansing I think that your friends perceive you as being very good at cleaning. I mean this both in a literal sense (lol) and metaphorically. You're good at closing old chapters and cleaning out the old to bring in the new (with a twist too, because you always make space for the memories). You give me this vibe of it doesn't matter if it was good or bad, it matters that it happened.

Pile 3

Empress & Orange

Main Star sign energy: Virgo & Taurus

Pile 3 people see you as being full of life and energy. You are the life to her party, even if there isn't a party, you know how to cheer and pump up the people around you. I also think that people find you very charming and they love to hear you talk. In fact, I think that others love being around you and being around your energy, because it's just so big. Do you know that poem about the orange? In this metaphor you are the orange.

There's also this really interesting vibe that you are very sensual, it could be like sensual as in sexy, but like sensual as in using your senses. You love eating, you love listening to music, you love pretty things. I think that your friends and acquaintances even always ask you about restaurant recommendations and stuff like that. Also, other people love your style and your aesthetic. In fact, they really admire how cohesive you look.

Others also see you as someone who is incredibly creative and that is always filled with ideas. Honestly I think that most of you are either studying arts/design/etc or you work in those areas. You are known for your work. There's also this thing that if one of your friends has a problem they will come to you if they need an out of pocket solution. Like, you always have one. Your friends love your sense of humor, it's always so random and unpredictable. And I honestly think that you might be very popular on social media.

Pile 4

7 of Swords & Pea

Main Star signs energy: Pisces & Aquarius

Hey pile 4, you are the embodiment of chaotic energy. I don't think that anyone can pin you down, and when someone thinks that they have you figured out you immediately prove them wrong. This is big Aquarius energy honestly, not with the chaos, but with the fact that you see things in such a different manner that no one can predict what you are going to do or say next. I also think that you're the type of person to lie for fun (nothing serious of course, but just making up a whole different life to some stranger you'll never see again).

You are filled with ideas and people find you to be a good communicator. In particular I think that you're good with speaking and writing. There's also this vibe that your friends never know when to expect an answer to their texts, it could be immediately or three weeks later.

Your mind is very very busy, always buzzing with new ideas and scenarios and I think that sort of comes across to other people who think you are a bit scatterbrained. Also, people think that you are very smart. I am also getting this vibe that you have a sharp tongue, especially when it comes to social commentary. Sometimes you'll make a sarcastic comment about something around you, but not everyone will get it and those people find you a bit weird. You may get lost while telling a story, going on multiple tangents to explain your train of thought. And I also think that you get distracted easily. Some people find that a bit annoying, but your friends find it endearing.

There's this type of trickster energy here with the 7 of Swords so it might be that you are known for pulling pranks on your friends. Your presence is very fun, but sometimes a bit unsettling because again, no one knows what you're going to do next.

[toon-tales]

Is Anxiety the villain in Inside out 2?

First, let's get something straight:

These. Are. Emotions. Not. Persons.

Here's the thing, Fear isn't about being scared, nor Disgust is about being disgusted, nor Sadness is about being sad, and etc...

Sadness is about sympathy, understanding and listening and offering comfort

Embarrassment is about being careful not to draw attention, feeling ashamed, exposed, even regretful

Anger is about needing justice, feeling mad when someone does something that bothers you

Fear is about protecting, not just being scared

Disgust is about avoiding toxicity, physically and socially

Ennui is about irritation, pointlessness, feeling empty

Envy is about not feeling complete, feeling like everyone is better than you and you're lacking something

Now, to Anxiety.

I don't think you people know what anxiety is. Anxiety is a complex and misunderstood condition. It's more than just feeling stressed or worried; anxiety can be an overwhelming sense of dread that something bad is going to happen, even if there's no clear reason for that feeling. It's a state of being that can affect one's entire perception of the world, making everyday tasks seem daunting. Playing hockey, in Riley's case, is proof of that. That's her favorite sport we're talking about and all of a sudden it's a competition, an exhausting one

Anxiety often also manifests as a deep-seated need to maintain control over one's environment or circumstances. It's a relentless whisper in the head, suggesting that if things are not managed just so, something terrible may occur

And what did Anxiety do? Just that - took control

However, anxiety isn't that bad when it's controlled. It can actually be quite beneficial, serving as a catalyst for action and a motivator for change. Controlled anxiety can sharpen focus, enhance creativity, and even drive efficiency. It's like an internal alarm system, a gentle reminder of forgotten stuff

Like what happened in the end

Now, to Joy

Joy is great because it makes us feel happy and full of energy. But, it's not always perfect. Sometimes, if we're too happy, we might not want to try new things or be ready for when bad times come. Also, if we keep trying to be happy all the time, we might end up feeling sad because being happy all the time is hard. Which is what happened to Riley in the first movie

Joy, like a bright light, can sometimes overshadow other parts of our experiences. It's not that it erases parts of ourselves, but rather, it can make us temporarily forget the challenges and complexities that shape who we are. When we're caught up in a moment of joy, it's easy to overlook the lessons we've learned from difficult times. However, these aspects of our identity are not lost; they're simply out of focus. Once the intensity of joy dims, the rest of our experiences can come back into view. But with no joy to ease them, other emotions kick in, especially anxiety

Now, what's the case here? It's simple, really

The case is that Riley couldn't control her anxiety. Why? She wasn't complete, not yet, she didn't know what she wanted. But in the end, she embraced herself, all of herself, then she managed to control her emotions

Thaaaaat's it! Hope you guys liked it! As usual, feel free to add or comment on anything!

[impalementation]

Read Uncle Vanya recently, and was struck by the similarity between Sonya's famous monologue at the end of the play and the church scene in "Beneath You." Specifically Spike's repetition of the phrase "Can we rest?"

SPIKE: [He walks to the crucifix at the altar.] She shall look on him with forgiveness, and everybody will forgive and love. He will be loved. [He stands before the crucifix, staring at it.] So everything's okay, right? [He embraces the crucifix, and his body begins to smoke.] Can we rest now? Buffy? Can we rest? - Buffy the Vampire Slayer 7x02 "Beneath You"

Here's Sonya's full monologue, though the most relevant part is at the end:

SONYA: What's to be done, we must go on living! [Pause] We shall go on living, Uncle Vanya. We shall live through a long, long chain of days and endless evenings; we shall patiently bear the trials fate sends us; we'll work for others, now and in our old age, without ever knowing rest, and when our time comes, we shall die submissively; and there, beyond the grave, we shall say that we have suffered, that we have wept, and have known bitterness, and God will have pity on us; and you and I, Uncle, dear Uncle, shall behold a life that is bright, beautiful, and fine. We shall rejoice and look back on our present troubles with tenderness, with a smile--and we shall rest. I have faith, Uncle, I have fervent, passionate faith... [Kneeling before him, lays her head on his hand; in a weary voice] We shall rest! [TELYEGIN softly plays the guitar.] We shall rest! We shall hear the angels, and see the heavens all sparkling like jewels; we shall see all earthly evil, all our sufferings, drowned in a mercy that will fill the whole world, and our life will grow peaceful, gentle, sweet as a caress. I have faith, I have faith... [Wipes away his tears with a handkerchief.] Poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you're crying... [Through tears] You have had no joy in your life, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait... We shall rest... [Puts her arms around him.] We shall rest! [The WATCHMAN taps; TELYEGIN plays softly; MARIA VASILYEVNA makes notes on the margin of her pamphlet; MARINA knits her stocking.] We shall rest! The Curtain Falls Slowly - Uncle Vanya, Anton Chekhov (trans. Ann Dunnigan)

Uncle Vanya is a story of ennui and disappointment with life. The titular Vanya and his niece Sonya have spent their lives dedicated to supporting Sonya's father Serebryakov, a celebrated academic, at the expense of their own yearnings and ambitions in life. Over the course of the play, both experience disappointment in romantic love. They are also shocked by Serebryakov's intention to sell the estate they have poured their lives and funds into, without regard for the precarious position it will leave them in. Near the climax of the play, Vanya attempts and impotently fails to kill both Serebryakov and himself. Sonya and Vanya end the play where they began, toiling and romantically alone. On the surface, Sonya's monologue is a spiritually optimistic exhortation to endure and hope in the face of unrewarding drudgery. But it also highlights the bleak inability of the characters to change their circumstances on their own.

"When done well it’s not just Vanya who weeps. Through an act of will, the thing that has most afflicted them – drudgery – can be embraced. The (religious) reward is loaded with paradox: in death they will find rest, and new life. Whether or not you believe in God, it’s bleak yet the repeated phrases (“We shall rest!”, “I have faith”) have a persuasive force of uplift, tolling like a bell." - Dominic Cavendish, The Telegraph

The connections to Buffy are numerous. Like Buffy, Uncle Vanya depicts the existential dilemma: How to carry on in the face of cosmic indifference? If your lot is drudgery, how do you keep going? Throughout the show, Buffy experiences slaying as an often dreary, inescapable fate, one which she has to imbue with her own meaning instead of expecting recognition or the approval of authorities or institutions. In seasons five and six this metaphorical slog is made more human and literal as Buffy struggles to continue on with the everyday aspects of being an adult. Buffy gets her rest at the end of season five, but heaven only ends up being a false, temporary respite--she has to keep going.

Freshly ensouled, Spike in "Beneath You" is newly aware of the existential struggle. Like Vanya and Sonya, Spike has been romantically disappointed and disillusioned, and can no longer rely on it as a source of meaning. It parallels Buffy's own disillusionments when it comes to both romance and Romance (for more on this if curious, there's my unfinished romanticism series). Furthermore, now that he can make true moral choices, Spike is faced with the prospect of having to keep on making them--day after day after day--and living with the consequences. He now truly understands that, due to his actions, a chance with Buffy is impossible--that his labors, with Buffy in mind, like Vanya and Sonya with Serebryakov, cannot reward him--that his romantic and heroic narratives of himself are pathetic, broken. Now he'll have to find some other reason to keep on making choices, and it will be a thankless, unending task.

But the scene also inverts aspects of Sonya's monologue in interesting ways, making it both more and less optimistic. As a text, Buffy is not underwritten by any kind of religious or spiritual faith. Where Sonya puts God ("God will have pity on us"), Spike puts Buffy ("She shall look on him with forgiveness"), and this invocation of deity is more clearly ironic in Spike's case. He proceeds to drape himself on a cross, a Christian symbol, and the fact that it burns him emphasizes the inability of formal religion to provide the absolution or direction or reprieve he might crave. In general, the religious imagery in the church scene, the basic image of an empty church, supports the idea that this is a scene about the struggle for meaning. What does it mean to crave redemption if there's no God (or Buffy) to grant it to you?

What is left, instead, is the human ability to provide such things. On the one hand, in Buffy, one cannot have faith in even a bleak hope of spiritual reprieve. But on the other hand, there is a hope and belief in people's capacity for agency and change. As always, any given scene should ultimately be tied back to Buffy's story, especially when the scene is a dramatic centerpiece between Buffy and Spike--who, like the other major characters, has paralleled her throughout the show. I think it's very significant that this scene comes so early in the season. It restates, via Spike, Buffy's own struggle for meaning and agency within the Slayer fate, adult existence, and Romantic ideas that bound her. It re-establishes that this is one of the show's most central ideas, something to be re-explored throughout the season and resolved--in some way--by the end. (Which I think it is. There are a lot of connections between this scene and Buffy and Spike's final scene in "Chosen." Spike's sacrifice, done without stated belief in Buffy's love, suggests achievement of some internal locus of meaning. He burns with purpose, instead of on a cross. This parallels Buffy's triumph over the first and sharing the Slayer power. She no longer burns on the cross of self-hatred, or slogging away at an isolated fate.)

Of course, as ever, I don't know for sure whether or not Vanya was a direct influence or reference. I would say it's fairly likely. I wasn't able to find anything direct on the subject. All I was able to turn up was that Joss Whedon (who wrote and directed that scene) had not seen The Seagull--another Chekhov play--until ca 2007, which doesn't exactly help my thesis, lol. But I will say Vanya is probably the more famous play, and Whedon has a documented love of theater, given "Once More, With Feeling" and the Shakespeare readings hosted at his house and such. Also, Vanya on 42nd Street, a classic performance of the play, was released in 1994. The modern, stripped-down rendition of Vanya in that movie has aspects in common with Whedon's version of Much Ado About Nothing. Here's Sonya's monologue from that Vanya. The delivery of "We shall rest" is simple and restrained, closer to Spike's delivery of "Can we rest" than a more ecstatic Sonya performance.

The church scene, also for reference:

[daguerreotyping]

Carte de visite of two ladies embracing in the throes of passion and/or ennui, c. 1860s

[mageknight14]

I made a whole Twitter thread about this a few months back but I figured that I might as well bring it here as well.

Today I want to take some time to make another NEO TWEWY analysis post on the Identity Crisis sidequest revolving around Eiru and how it actually provides extra insight into Nagi and Fret’s characters.

Basically, the main gist of the sidequest is that Nagi and Fret are debating on how to imprint confidence onto Eiru, who’s suffering with his physical insecurities, and this is where we see the differences with Nagi and Fret's philosophies on life.

Fret's response is to tell Eiru to ignore the haters and even more so, ignore confronting the insecurities; life is better when you don't have to concern yourself with anything or try; don't take anything seriously. Nagi, however, believes that insecurities should be understood and harnessed so that they can ultimately be turned into a strength that can be used as a tool for success; accept your weaknesses and come to terms with them so that you can weaponize your strengths better.

On a surface level, these might read to be the same thing. Fret’s advice can be read positively as "don't let others judge you for something you can't control" and Fret certainly thinks so, hence why he thinks that he and Nagi are on the same page even though she disagrees.

However, when you read between the lines and think about it some more, there are notable implications that Fret's advice is more of a dismissive approach to dealing with emotional struggles as opposed to Nagi's own methodology. It’s no coincidence that Fret used to be a fan of the Eiji "the Prince" Oji in his ennui/apathy phase. The Prince in the original TWEWY was beloved for his “don’t give a damn attitude” and how he expressed that both in person and in his blog “F Everything.” Fret claims to have grown out of it but with certain reveals about his character later on, there are some implications that Fret latched onto the Prince and aspired to his attitude due to his own struggles with feeling genuine and wanting to embracing apathy instead.

However, if you recall in the original game, Neku and Joshua came around and helped the Prince sort out his own issues and in the process, helped him to become more genuine and true to himself in the process. With all of this in mind, you can interpret Fret’s response as him seeing the process of the Prince’s reconciliation with his genuine emotions happening in front of him and didn’t want to confront the possibility of that happening to him as well so he "grows out of it." It also acts as a neat parallel to Neku and his own thing with CAT. Whereas Neku latched onto his misinterpretation of CAT’s words in order to cope with his trauma, Fret turned away from the Prince changing so that he wouldn’t have to deal with his own trauma just yet.

To get back to the quest, if player had decided to choose Fret's philosophy, Eiru ends up doing just that, spinning Fret's stance on the situation into self-motivating positivity. However, there's a element of emotional responsibility lacking in Fret's way of processing struggles in that he doesn't seem to have the awareness to recognize the difference between overcoming adversity and just ignoring it (or maybe he does but refuses to confront that truth). In order for someone to truly not care what other people think, they need to do what Nagi suggested first, which is to find acceptance with their insecurities and build a stronger foundation for their character through that acceptance.

If the player chose Fret's approach to solving Eiru's issue, his dialogue afterwards shows how he feels about not having to face issues head on, with Nagi lamenting that her approach was not used despite being glad that Eiru's mood was visibily improved.

I also really like this moment here for how it subtly foreshadows what caused Fret’s attitude and way of thinking to happen in the first place.

Stuff like this is why I always tend to roll my eyes whenever I hear the claim that "Nagi is mean to Fret for no reason" when moments like these show why she acts the way she does towards him: their philosophies on life are complete polar opposites.

In Nagi’s eyes, Fret acting the way he did screamed to her that he seemingly had no regard for how his attitude and actions towards others made other people feel in service of his own self-interest and she fundamentally cannot get along with other people of that nature, as shown with how she dismisses Motoi entirely off the bat when the crew first meets him because she could tell that there was something off about his attitude. However, once it was revealed that Fret’s attitude was due to him trying to unhealthily cope with his trauma and not because he was seemingly unconcerned for the feelings of others, she’s far more understandable towards him and empathizes with his grief.

That’s when Nagi learns to understand that she does not need to dismiss people right away and that they, like Fret, might be going through struggles of their own and trying to cope with it via other means, even if she doesn’t agree with it at first. Hence the friendship they start up at the end of the convo.

The characters in NEO have a lot of internal flaws they need to work through, some that might not be immediate obvious at first compared to the original, but when you look back at it all, the game goes through a lot of painstaking detail to flesh out their struggles and mindset and aspects like these is what makes the game a joy for me to replay whenever I go back to it.

[crownedinmarigolds]

For vtm oc ask game, 5, 9, 14, 22, 25, 45, 46, and 48 for Pavarti!!

I love methuselah ocs I wish there were more of them in the vamily!!!

Oh my gosh! So many questions for her excellency! Thank you and ahhh! The Elders are so rare these days!! <3

5. Who is their sire? She does not know her Sire, she was basically shovel-headed while fetching water one night outside of her village! It was a lone wandering Ravnos who had been feeling a little peckish as they wandered the jungle paths between villages, and poor Parvati had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. 9. Do they have a childer? Parvati has one Childer she created a long time ago during one of her many Sabbaticals. Parvati doesn't speak of her or to her, and it seems what little information that's been gleaned leads to two possible reasons she did it. The woman had been a queen about to commit suicide thanks to the death of her king husband and the coming of an invading force, but Parvati Embraced her instead of letting her die with honor. Was it gleeful cruelty to extend her suffering, or a distant compassion perhaps? That's completely locked within the mind of the ever quiet Parvati. Her Childe has many things to say about the situation, and a few of them are related to how many times she's had to see her story weirdly overblown in a lot of modern Bollywood. At least she's a Deepika Padukone fan! Parvati also - thanks to the magics of the Setites, her own, and the Giovanni - has a flesh and blood child with her husband... if that counts! 14. How did they initially feel after being embraced? Did they like being reborn into something knew or did it take them a while to cope with their new reality? Parvati has had a lot of time to think since her rebirth, and had been alone for a very long time before she really crossed paths with other Kindred. The way she woke up from her Embrace made her monstrous, and she seemed to take her new life in a strange stride. She's coped with it by embracing what she is, choosing to be more animalistic and accepting her new place as simply a new part of the food chain. 22. What are their thoughts on other predator types? Parvati doesn't really bother herself with the actions of others unless it directly affects the temple. If the other types aren't encroaching on their territory it does not matter. Hunting is hunting. 25. How often do they cause a masquerade breach? Parvati like her husband is a walking masquerade breach though not quite as egregious as he is. She stands too still, she doesn't blink, her gaze is too ferocious, there's something unsettling about her striking beauty. While her husband is a serpentine man glittering with gold, she has a look that would tell any clear-minded individual that she is a dangerous predator. 45. What are their disciplines? Parvati is a Phuri Dae Ravnos, so she baseline has Animalism, Auspex, and Chimerstry - nearly all mastered in her old age. She's walked in the jungles with the animals and has slept beside and fed from them. She is a avid mind reader, nearly all conversation to be had with her is through telepathy. Her Chimerstry paired with her knowledge of Sadhana make her terrifying if you are lured into her domain. Harrakhty's flock and haven are always protected with his Obfuscate and her Chimerstry combined. She also knows a couple of dots of Serpentis as she has been brought into the Followers of Set fold and is married to a prominent branch's Hierophant. 46. What are their ambition(s) if any? Parvati has reached a state where her ambition is enjoying however many days she has left. Not quite in a state of ennui, but also not quite in a state of motion, she simply enjoys what she has access to. 48. Detail things about your OC you spent a lot of time on! Let's seee.... Parvati is just about the oldest character in our VTM repertoire! She was Embraced during the Bronze Era of ancient Northern India. She's older than Harrakhty both in terms of actual age and physical age, but is younger Generation-wise when it comes to their bloodlines. She survived barely the curse of Zapathasura, having gone mad within the Setite temple but thankfully non-lethally taken down by her husband in his God form. I love my lady so much!!

[thenadnerb02]

Inside Out Theory Concluded / Thoughts on Inside Out 2 [MAJOR SPOILERS]

Well, here we are folks. Four and a half months after I came up with my Inside Out theory based on the first movie and the sequel’s teaser, and two months after I continued on from that with the proper trailer, Inside Out 2 is here! 

So now that the movie’s come out, how well does my theory hold up? Well, let's discuss.

(Also, I had the great honor to see the first 35 minutes a week early at an event attended by Pete Docter at the Museum of the Moving Image, and a couple of the things he said in the post-screening interview will be referenced here.)

Again, major spoilers for Pixar’s latest movie. If you don't want to be spoiled, then come back.

—————SPOILERS BELOW THIS LINE—————

Okay, quick recap: I theorized that the 4 new emotions are directly influenced by the actions, thoughts, etc. of the main 5. They’re the embodiments of combinations of emotions and they can physically manifest now that Riley has matured. I figured that this would be the big twist of Inside Out 2. Well, was it?

No. No it wasn’t…

While I don’t think the theory is completely invalidated, it doesn’t mesh well with the second half of the movie.

When I first developed this theory, I had in mind that the new emotions would be fully aware of their connection to the old ones, but it’s clear this isn't the case. Anxiety initially has no idea what's going on when Joy and co. start envisioning positive outcomes of the hockey game, Embarrassment is surprised when he notices Sadness sneaked back into Headquarters, Ennui is shocked to discover Sadness stole her phone, etc.

Plus, the theory hinged upon the fact that Riley has demonstrably felt the new emotions before, but Inside Out 2 provides us a new plausible explanation for how that could be.

This room right here! While never explicitly referred to as such in the film, Docter called this a waiting area for emotions before it's their time to appear in Headquarters. And if Nostalgia is there 10+ years ahead of schedule, then there’s no reason why Anxiety, Envy, Embarrassment, and Ennui wouldn’t have been there during the first film. Their presence meant Riley could still feel those emotions even if they didn’t have access to the console yet.

And as cool as it would’ve been for my theory to be correct, after seeing Inside Out 2 I'm kind of glad it wasn't. The movie’s overall message is to embrace every part of yourself, and thinking that some of those emotions aren’t fully-formed beings of their own doesn’t sit right with me anymore.

Oh well.

Now, onto the second half of this post. As someone who deals with anxiety on a regular basis, I must commend Pixar on how accurate the emotion is depicted here. One thing I didn’t think of before I saw the movie (but in retrospect I feel like I should have) is how in addition to the worrying we often associate with the emotion, Anxiety also works hard to push Riley forward.

Sometimes my anxiety leads to endless worrying about the future, but it also pushes me to be productive and try new things. Funny how it can be both a motivator and a de-motivator at the exact same time.

For starters: catastrophizing about every possible bad outcome to a situation.

This is definitely something I experience during stressful situations. Sometimes I try to rationalize this under the belief that assuming the worst will make good things feel better, but ultimately (just like Anxiety), I get so focused on the worst that could happen that I disregard the possible good outcomes. But just like we see in the movie, it’s unhealthy to simply hyperfocus on the bad possibilities.

Another experience I have with anxiety is fretting over things in the far future when there’s much more pertinent things that could be focused on instead. For example, I won’t begin my grad school animation program for another two months, but sometimes I worry about it as if I’m already neck-deep in my M.F.A. I don’t have to stress over that right now, but sometimes I can’t help but do it anyway.

We see this at the end of the movie, where Anxiety spirals about Riley’s distant future, but eventually Joy calms her down by reminding her she doesn’t have to worry about that right now. (And she gets her Anxie-Tea!)

The belief threads and sense of self are cool additions to the canon of Inside Out. (A sense of self definitely feels like something a person would have before age 12, but let’s not think about that too much right now.) And the thing in this movie I found relatable most of all is what happens to the sense of self once Anxiety takes the reins of Riley’s life: it goes from “I’m a good person” to “I’m not good enough.” And I can say with 100% certainty that this kind of distressing self-talk is what happens when anxiety shapes one’s sense of self.

Anxiety literally forcing other emotions out of HQ is an excellent metaphor for what it feels like when anxiety gets extreme. We make no room for other emotions as anxiety builds up, and as we do our mental health state only grows worse.

(Although from my personal experience at least, this “I’m not good enough” mentality actually involves envy as well as anxiety, since what you’re really thinking is “I’m not good enough in comparison to others.”)

At the end of the day, Anxiety wanted what was best for Riley. She really, really did. It’s painful to watch her panic so much that Riley seemed to be close to a heart attack. And yeah, that’s what anxiety attacks are like — we get too caught up in worrying for the future that we forget to have joy.

And while we shouldn't let our sense of self be shaped solely by anxiety, we can't just repress the parts of ourselves we don't like Joy was initially doing with certain memories.

It's by finding that perfect balance and loving every part of ourselves that we can avoid complete breakdowns.

And it can be hard. It really can. As the film so poignantly notes, we tend to feel less joy as we get older. We can’t just have fun all the time like when we were little kids, but at the same time all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

We have a complete rainbow of emotions inside our heads, and even when things get hard and overwhelming, we must embrace all of our emotions because they all have an important role to play.

Or as Disgust puts it:

“You must make your curse your gift.”

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Drabble Challenge 2024 - Day 26: Ennui

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Characters: Dame Aylin

-

Aylin spreads her arms in mocking welcome. This arrival is the first disruption of her ennui in some time.

"Am I to be regaled with the tale of the suffering that drove you into your lady's embrace? The loss that justifies its own prolification?"

The man approaches unperturbed, sword aloft. "Shar's Fourteenth Truth. All is meaningless. Nothing endures."

"How wrong you both are," Aylin scoffs at her would-be murderer's rote recitation. "Fleeting blessings are all the more precious for their brevity. It is ours to cherish them, and remember them when they are gone."

The sword slips between her ribs.

-

[cogitrot]

The fact you need Nightmares 5 in order to pick the Watchful option during the process of becoming a POSI is so funny, actually.

Having a meeting with the Ambitious Barrister and she's over here judging the degree of your sallow complexion and facial spasms. Your eyes have better not focused once this whole conversation. You need to look like the next loud noise will either cause you to burst into tears or dissolve into molten rage or give in to the sweet embrace of eternal ennui with no middle ground whatsoever. She knew you had potential!

[lolitalempicka]

summer so far: death of love, embracing the ennui, chanel red nails, psy trance, tarot readings, mild alcoholism, abstaining but also sex everyday, loving loneliness

[marcmarcmomarc]

Once Upon a Lamp - Group Photo Notes (Heartwarming)

Everybody is all smiles for the group picture, from heroes to villains and everything in-between. Even characters who were otherwise sticks in the mud like Hank, Dicker, and Ego genuinely smile for the picture. Villains such as Muntz, de la Cruz, Lotso, Thunderclap and his gang, Syndrome, Evelyn, Randall, Waternoose, Hopper, Skinner, and Ercole, as evil as they were, are seen respectfully singing along. Even Sid, who was a massive bully to Hannah, is seen giving her a kind brotherly embrace, and GO-4 being here means the other robots didn’t hold any grudges against him for following AUTO’s orders.

Not only that, most of the main casts seem to be cramped together. On one side of the crowd, Ian and his family all together; and on the other, the Monsters, Inc. and WALL-E casts. Linguini carries Remy in one hand with his other rested on Colette, who holds Django and Emile, the living and dead Riveras are all together, as are the Lumens and Ripples with Ember and Wade bridging both families, the Bao cast, and the Inside Out emotions and human characters, albeit grouped separately, with the emotions being toward the front of the crowd and the humans toward the back, right in front of the Cars cast all standing side by side, and the main Toy Story cast stand front and center. Even the villains stand near their respective heroes.

Several of Pixar’s official couples are seen holding each other close. Special mention to Ember snuggling into Wade’s chest, WALL-E and EVE standing with their hands locked together, Greg and Manuel leaning their heads towards each other, Flik and Atta embraced together (same applies to John and Mary), and Maudie and the Clan Dingwall hunk sharing a loving look, with a special shout out to the already married couples showcasing their love.

The larger characters (like the Cars and Good Dinosaur casts) offering their bodies for the smaller characters or carrying the smaller characters (Sulley with Boo, Helen with Jack-Jack, Presto with Alec, Carl and Russell with Kevin’s babies, Elinor and Fergus with their triplet sons, Embarrassment with Envy, Massimo with Machiavelli, and Izzy with Sox) is nothing short of adorable.

The fact that Pixar didn’t leave out anything they made. Not just the highly recognizable movies, but the short films and SparkSports, no matter how overlooked they are, are included, too.

The bluebirds are happy to have the gawky bird with them, a far cry from how they treated him in their short.

Marlin, Dory, and Nemo peeking out from above the water of the coffee pot carried by Hank is nothing short of cute.

Mater can’t help but have the biggest grateful smile on his face, as if he’s aware of the hatred he’s gotten over the years and is happy to be a part of a photo celebrating a milestone. In fact, he seems to be on the verge of tears, which McQueen and Cruz notice, prompting McQueen to give Mater a tire bump to the wheel well.

Mr. B. cracks a little smile at the camera, putting his stoic exterior aside for a moment.

Day and Night sing and smile with one arm around the other, still having put their differences aside after the radio tower message.

Bambino looks up at his papà and nonno being genuinely happy, having never gone back to arguing. Similarly, Sanjay and his father look at each other with clear signs that their relationship hasn’t regressed to being too emotionally distant.

The chiefs of the clans Macintosh, MacGuffin, and Dingwall embracing their sons is certainly a touching sight. Lord MacGuffin patting his son on the back like he did at the presentation of the suitors, especially.

Being stationary volcanoes, Uku and Lele are unable to leave their photo. Thankfully, they have Thunderclap to hold it so they can be in the group picture.

Joy and Sadness hold hands together and give each other a gentle look. Also, Anxiety actually looks calm for once, and Ennui also doesn’t shy away from smiling.

Riley, Grace, and Bree all carry Knick together while Riley’s parents carry the Miami and Florida knick knacks, Val and the Fire Hawks carry the Egypt, Jamaica, Palm Springs, Israel, and Death Valley knick knacks, and Coach Roberts carries Sunny Atlantis in her fish bowl.

Spot stays on Arlo’s back while looking at the camera.

While not in her panda form, Mei has her red hair, panda ears, and panda tail, showing that she never stopped embracing her panda.

The cast of Lightyear stand toward the back of the crowd, giving the impression that they’re fully aware of their box office bomb and are letting their more successful friends be in front of them.

Izzy gives Sox a neck scratch.

Alisha and Kiko’s inclusion also counts due to their backlash following the movie’s release.

After everyone finishes singing, Forky, Heimlich, the gawky bird, Boo, Jack-Jack, Stu, WALL-E, one of the triplets, and Embarrassment wave at the camera.