#in a way it's kind of like she's martyring herself even when no one's really asking her to

[iiguess]

HEADCANON. Gosh, I know I said I wouldn't be on here as often but fortunately I have some spare time today and P4 Sam has once again grabbed my singular braincell.

As such, here's some headcanons I've thought of under the cut!

In this verse, Sam is a huge people pleaser, so much so that it can be considered an extreme.

She focuses more on making people happy and, as such, would base her identity and choices on other people’s desires. This includes her constant smiling, as showing emotions like sadness and anger are not considered pleasing. She’d even base what she says on how she believes others would react.

She is whatever you want her to be, even if it actually hurts her.

She has a tendency to bottle up emotions, only for it to come out as uncontrollable outbursts later on.

Such is the case with her anger. Should she shove down her growing rage for far too long, any Shadows she fights may be on the receiving end of a silent, blankly smiling Sam that will repeatedly hit the Shadow—-far beyond what is necessary to knock them down. Over. And over. And over again. The guilt and horror and panic that comes with realizing what she’s done never goes well after that, and she’d take a long time to be okay with seeing anyone who saw her in such a state.

This version of her is obsessed with the idea of being ‘good,’ perhaps even ‘perfect.’

The line between the two seems to have blurred already for her sometimes. Consequently, she punishes herself if there are any times where she perceives she does something ‘bad,’ either via starving herself or harming herself in other ways. (Thankfully, she never resorts to cutting or burning herself, but she does scratch at her skin.)

Usually Sam doesn’t speak her mind.

If anything, she’s more likely to go with the flow than she is against it, even if it’s over minor things. It’d take something real major for her to actually think about voicing her own opinion, or for her to be close or trust someone. If she feels saying or doing something incredibly dumb or outrageous would make someone happy, however, she would have no qualms in acting on it.

Sam has trouble saying ‘no,’ even if it’s to her own detriment.

With her desire to be ‘good’ and make others happy, it’s pretty often for her to accept a task she would rather not do, swallowing down her own objections in order to appease or please the other person. This stems from her trauma and upbringing, in which saying ‘no’ had been linked to being punished or hurt in some way. In cases where someone is asking her to do something considered morally wrong or brings harm to her or someone else, she has a tendency to hide or run away to avoid confrontation.

[hyperbali]

This seemed to go over well on r/dragonage, so I will also share it over here!

The question was:

Which DA Romances Do You Think Would Be Open To Having Kids?

DAO

Alistair - if he's got that Strong Theirin Bullshit going on, I think he's having a couple kids regardless of if it's with HoF or Anora. He's a great goofy dad but can't discipline worth a damn.

Leliana - Mmh... she would probably prefer to adopt rather than give birth, I think. Even then, she seems more like an auntie than a mother.

Morrigan - Did not ever foresee or want it for herself, but is a pretty decent mom by virtue of not wanting to be like Flemeth. Not a "cool" mom, but would let her kids have their independence.

Zevran - I can only ever see it being on accident, as beforehand he would have absolutely denied it - but once the possibility is in reach, he can't let the idea go. Ultimate Girl Dad.

DA2

Anders - Nope. Back in Awakening he liked his freedom without fetters too much, and over the course of 2 he gets too focused on becoming a martyr. Ain't ever gonna happen.

Fenris - Not something I think he actively wants, but is willing to take responsibility if it happens. He's the kind of stoic dad that it's hard to get an outward reaction from, but he's definitely protective of his kids.

Isabela - HAHA. That's adorable, kitten! (She probably just ends up kind of semi-adopting a galley kid, but in a way one would adopt a stray outdoor cat - leave it to its business.)

Merrill - Kind of taken aback by the idea, but secretly grows on it. I think she'd probably end up more of a mother figure to refugee elves, though.

DAI

Blackwall - Much as it's cute to think of him as a dad, I think what he did with the mercenary company is going to haunt him too much, even if he goes back to being Thom. He's content with the Inquisitor alone.

Cassandra - So long as she's not Divine, she would be willing to consider it - but would only want just one. Hard disciplinarian, but secretly a softie on some occasions.

Cullen - He's gonna end up having to build an entire farm community just to house all the impending kids and dogs. This man wants a BIG FAMILY.

Dorian - The thought of it is instantly repellant to him just on the basis of it having been expected of him for so long. He'd also be quietly terrified of ending up like his own father, hurting his own child while thinking he's doing his best for them... so no, definitely not happening.

Iron Bull - Hadn't ever really thought about it... ever, but if he's Tal-Vashoth, his heart melts when he sees any of his own babies for the first time. Any kid's got him wrapped around their little finger, and a whole host of aunts and uncles in the Chargers.

Josephine - She wants at least two, but preferably three - it simply wouldn't do for any of her children to grow up lonely. Hilariously, she's one of the strictest parents.

Sera - She sort of just wants to keep the Inquisitor all to herself for as long as she can, but if her wife really, really wanted it, she'd shrug and say why not? An alright mom, especially when they're still little, but I think she'd get really frustrated when they hit their teens.

Solas - He would like to say he doesn't wish it were possible, sometimes. He would like to say that.

DAV

Bellara - She would go nuts tracking down every single child-rearing research material she could and generally get herself anxious about it, but she'd turn out to be one of the best moms of the bunch.

Davrin - Willing to adopt after a while, especially once Assan starts getting older and leaving for longer periods of time as he gains his independence. That kiddo is definitely growing up with the best boy bird-cat-dog protector. Bit of a gruff dad, but he means well and can ease up with help.

Emmrich - Either way you shake it, probably not. Either he's content with Manfred and wouldn't want to chance leaving a young child behind when he eventually passes, or he just can't because he's a lich. For the latter, though, I think he'd be a great dadly mentor for the ages.

Harding - The ultimate in mommy cottagecore. TELL me you can't see her hiking through a forest with a bundled baby on her back, a kidlet skipping at her side, singing together as they head back home for the day. Adorable.

Lucanis - Incredibly unnerved by how much pressure is on him by being The Last Man Standing of the Dellamortes and what that means for their legacy, as well as being terrified over the possibility of what Spite could do to a child... but man, the thought haunts him. He wants to feel part of a close family again so bad. He would cry the first time he held his baby.

Neve - Probably not interested in having any of her own, but definitely ends up being kind of the boss-slash-denmother of a bunch of urchins in Docktown. She (lightly) bullies them into eating and sleeping, and they're her eyes from the shadows.

Taash - Their hang-ups over their mom are way too intense for that. Helping other Qunari and/or Tal-Vashoth adjust to a non-Qun life is about as far as that idea is gonna get.

[my-adhd-gremlin-blog]

I am as disappointed as everyone else is with the final season of The Umbrella Academy, but I also have some of my own Thoughts™️. Allow me to weigh in.

We can all agree that the finale was absolute dogshit, right? I've seen a lot of commentary about the character assassination of Number Five, and the cursed as fuck crack ship that should've stayed in the deep recesses of ao3, where no one could find it. But there was also absolutely no character development for any of them in the end? Not really?

Luther still has unresolved daddy issues (why else would he be squatting in the condemned building of the Academy?). And he just, what, gave up looking for his wife? Luther "loverboy" Hargreeves. The man who chased and pined for Allison almost his entire life gave up on HIS WIFE after/within six years? No way.

Diego's character basically went nowhere. Four seasons, and he still didn't come to any kind of realisation that, hey, maybe he is enough. No. If he isn't in Luther's shadow, he's insecure about his marriage, or his powers, and being "strong enough." Everything was a competition to him, even though he was the only one competing. He deserved a little bit of self-love, but apparently, "self-destruct" is all he gets.

Allison had her ups and downs, and they let her end on a fucking down? Her arch was the most disappointing. We literally see her trying to be a better, more honest person in s1, and then a human rights activist in s2. Her powers are morally grey, sure, but she had so much potential. Then she just straight up becomes a villain and has barely any redemption for it? Her character started on a high. It was natural progression for her to hit a low. But not that low. And she never really came back up from it. In six years, it seemed like she made no real effort to make up for what she did. A couple of good decisions do not make up for a multitude of bad ones.

Which brings me to Klaus. I wasn't sold on sober, germaphobe Klaus to begin with. I thought it was just a little bit too out of character. But I'll take that any day than what happened to him this season. And to his credit, his hypochondria after losing his powers at least made sense. But he'd made so much progress, not just on his sobriety but on embracing his powers rather than being afraid. (Also, he and Allison being codependent on each other like that was not healthy).

This season made Ben, as a character, pretty much pointless. From the beginning, it seemed like his death was supposed to bring the Academy together, narratively speaking. It was his "purpose" to die and become a sort of martyr to his siblings (I mean, it didn't work, so even then, Ben kinda died unnecessarily). But in reality, his death wasn't a teachable moment, it was just murder. And without Ben, the story still would have ended the same way. Any of the children born from the marigold could have brought about the cleanse, it didn't necessarily HAVE to be Ben. And with the number of timelines there were, it was probably inevitable that it would happen in at least one of them. They all died pointlessly, but Ben's deaths were especially pointless.

Viktor was about the only character that DID have some development. He finally stood up to his father and received at least some validation for his mistreatment as a kid. Not that it ended up mattering because his relationship with his siblings was practically non-existent at this point. All he'd ever wanted was to be a part of the team, and yet apparently made no effort in six years to see his siblings and actually be a part of the family. It makes no sense for his character.

I hate that Lila was a damsel in distress for most of this season. She's a grown woman who we know is fully capable of standing up for herself, but it felt like she was reduced to just her role in the family. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with being a mother or a wife, but that seemed to be ALL her character was this season, when we know she's more than that. The one thing she got to herself was taken away from her coz it hurt "poor Diego's feelings 🥺". Grow up 🙄. And I am not touching the other thing with a ten foot barge pole.

Now, obviously, there's Five. People have already talked about how his character was completely butchered this season. No, Five of the past would not have given up so easily. Despite the jabs and the squabbling, Five loved his family. He fought hard to get back to them when he was stranded. After a struggle like that, why the fuck WOULD he stop fighting to keep his family together?

I'm not saying all of these characters had to be good, outstanding citizens by the end of the show. But they should have at least had a journey from season one. Instead, they either went backwards or in circles. And in the end, none of it mattered anyway.

This season was so fucking stupid. It completely undermined the rest of the story. What was the point in literally anything that happened in the previous seasons if it was just leading up to all of it being erased? This is some, "and it was all a dream" bullshit, and I'm not here for it.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Jackie supports the lion swap? How dare you!

Okay SO. This is not the first time I’ve gotten an ask or a comment like this, and I’m fully aware it’s a joke (or at least I think), but I also know that it is kind of a controversial topic on here! And I’ve already written an essay in the topic, but I have some more thoughts I’d like to dive into.

I used to be team Blue Paladin Lance, and hardcore on that team, too. If you look at some of my old fics, you’ll see that. However since I am a contrary person by nature, I started to notice that Red Paladin Lance was way less liked, and so I started to like it more. I really grew fond of the dynamic Keith and Lance got to have as co-leaders, both because it was homoerotic as hell and because the symbolism was fun to explore, but klance is not the main reason I started to care so deeply for the lion change — it was actually Shiro and Allura.

I’m going to start with Shiro, because he’s one of the most fascinating characters in VLD, if not underdeveloped. Part of that fascination for me is that he probably has the most arcs and opportunities for character growth and development in the show, and yet somehow he’s the flattest. He’s portrayed as very one-dimensional in a lot of fic — he tends to be less of a character and more of a role. He’s the Space Dad, or the older brother, or the cool teacher, or the kind and wise friend, or even the stoic Black Paladin. He is loved, I think, but the role he plays is loved, not quite the person he is. And that makes sense, because that is exactly how he’s portrayed in canon.

To Keith, Shiro is “like a brother to [him]”, but what do we see of that dynamic? The show has a clear sense of how a brother acts, that’s a good chunk of Pidge’s character. We barely even know Matt, but Pidge carries herself in such a way that it’s clear when her brother shines through her. And yet even though Shiro also goes missing, twice even, Shiro does not shine through his brother. Keith’s impulses are his own, developed from general abandonment issues rather than Shiro’s specific absence. Shiro’s absence becomes less of Shiro’s absence and more of an absence of a beloved leader figure, kind of a martyr, a “Shiro would have wanted you to carry on”. It is really hard for us as a fandom to use Shiro’s disappearance as anything but a plot device, because that’s all it felt like! We have occasional moments with Shiro, enough to care about him in some way, but as a figure, not as a person. Someone pointed it out on one of my fics and I agree wholeheartedly — Shiro is not shown with any flaws, and that makes it really hard to love him, because you don’t really get the pleasure of defending him, of seeing his motivations, his reasons. Not until the very end, at least.

This is, in all honesty, likely just poor writing. Shiro’s character was honestly just sidelined to a role, because he is really not that present in the show. But I am going to work with the benefit of the doubt, and see if I can use the lion change to explain why we all kind of love Shiro anyway, despite the fact that he’s flat as hell.

Shiro isn’t the Black Paladin. He never was. He flew the Black Lion, yes, and he flew her well — but he was never her Chosen. He couldn’t have been. From the very beginning, the Black Lion was in mourning; she was in no space to choose a new paladin. She accepted Shiro, and she loved him, but he did not fall into her as much as he fell into the role she provided for him. He piloted the Black Lion, but he was not her Paladin. This is made obvious in two ways: in that he never got her bayard, and that from the very beginning, he set up a replacement for himself.

Doesn’t that strike anyone else as odd? I haven’t seen the show in five years, and I don’t plan on rewatching, but I do remember that every moment with Shiro almost had this underlying tension. The closest thing I have to canon off the top of my head is the Handbook (which I had to stop reading because they did everyone SO dirty there, even though some of it was honestly pretty funny), which was released in S2, and even that incredibly early canon talked about Keith replacing Shiro!

From the very beginning, Shiro was planning an out to his role. He knew it was not meant for him. He did the role well, but it was not his to do.

Aside from those two reasons, Shiro also…can’t be the Black Paladin. He can’t be that and himself, I mean. This part is a little more complicated, so I’m going to borrow some of my own tags from some awesome fanart I saw:

I really do think Shiro is defined by his humanity (as is heavily implied by his illness — this is a character who is completely and totally bound to his mortality. Of all the other characters, he is the one most familiar with death, so he is the one who is most intimate with the raw fear of being human. But more on that later), but it’s my last comment that I want to focus on — “he is DEFINED by his his humanity…even as his greatest asset is the part of him that is not human”.

Every second that Shiro is leader of Voltron, he is the Champion. That can literally be his only goal — he is the head of the fight against Zarkon and the Empire. Either Shiro comes out the Champion, or Zarkon does. Either Shiro has to grit his teeth and fight off the flashbacks and the fear and the pain and use the one thing that forces him to reconcile with the fact that he had his entire personhood stripped away (his arm, his Galra arm, one of their biggest advantages as a team; his connection to Zarkon through Black, something that can only help the war effort at a direct cost to him; everything he does in this war is shoving him right back into that Arena again and again and again), or Zarkon wins. Every second Shiro pilots Black, every time he plays her paladin, he has to be who the Empire made him to be. He has to be the Champion. Once again he is not Takashi Shirogane, the person, the astronaut, the man, he is the Role. He is the Space Dad he is the Pilot of the Black Lion he is the Champion. For every second he is in that lion he is stripping away himself.

Obviously, that is something that was never sustainable. On this argument alone, Shiro was going to waste away eventually. There was always going to be a point where Shiro was not going to be able to be the Champion anymore. There was always, from the very way the dynamic was set up, going to have to be a lion switch. Now, interestingly enough, there could have been a really easy fix to this: Black Paladin Allura. She’s already a born and raised leader, already shown her immense competence, already someone the rest of the paladins follow. With her at the helm, nothing else would have to change, right?

Well, maybe. We’ll never know. One part of that is absolutely true — Allura should have been a paladin from the very beginning. Her quintessence is canonically closest to the entirety of Voltron (something that bears its own essay,; the relationship between all six of the paladins and Voltron is wrought with heavy symbolism), she is the most highly trained, she is smart, and she actually wants to be out on the field. She should have been in that armour from day one.

But Allura cannot be the Black Paladin. Allura cannot handle other’s sacrifice.

Of course this is a complicated subject. Should a leader sit back and let her crew sacrifice themselves instead of her? Must she hold herself in higher regard, convince herself she’s more important? Of course not! Teams, especially Voltron, are built with assets. While not everyone might be ‘equal’ in the traditional sense, they are all integral, and expecting sacrifices is not the stance I am trying to take here. But the point of a team, especially a team so small and vital as Voltron, is that everyone is willing to be the sacrifice, as they have to be, and Allura simply can’t handle that. She shows us this from the beginning, when she disguises herself as Galra and is taken in place of anyone on the team she barely knows, and again in Oriande with the White Lion, and finally in the piece of shit canon ending. Allura has to be the sacrifice. Every time.

And how could she not be? The last time she spared herself of sacrifice, she lost her entire people. The last time she let others sacrifice themselves for her, she was left alone, to shoulder a war bigger and greater than she could ever handle. Allura is painfully familiar with the agony of being the survivor, and she cannot do that again. She cannot and will not put herself through that again. As the Black Paladin, she would have to let her team make sacrifices — she would have to let them have their own agency, their own decisions; she would have to let them choose to get hurt and choose to do risky things and analyse and react and act. As leader she would have to trust her team to put themselves in harm’s way, and not only that, but she would have to authorize them to do so.

Like Shiro cannot last as the Champion, Allura cannot last as the Survivor. Shiro cannot even last in Voltron, and it is foolish to keep Allura out of it. A lion change is absolutely necessary for the show to move forward, for the war to move forward. The initial team was doomed to fail.

How would it change, then? What would fit? I know I’ve said my piece. I know who I think would fit where. But since I’ve been comparing character arcs to their roles as paladins, I’d like to keep doing that — what about Keith makes me so sure that he’s the true Black Paladin?

I’ll show you with process of elimination. I know Black Paladin Lance is a favourite, and I can see why. Lance has many leadership qualities, is a good tactician, and cares deeply. However, aside from his desire for power making him less suitable for the role, Lance functions best as support, despite how much he hates it. He is the one who knows how to pick up the pieces of a broken situation. He is an excellent guide, which makes him an unbelievably valuable second. He is adaptable, so he can fill in for many different roles. He can step in for leader when necessary, but putting him in Black would encourage a more active role for him; would force him to anticipate and plan for specific outcomes rather than his strength as one who analyses any outcome as it arises and works within it then. Lance could be the Black Paladin, yes, but taking him from the body and placing him in the head would be a fool’s choice. It would be crippling to Voltron, to put the jack of all trades as a master of one. Lance’s arc is all about learning to love and trust himself as he is, as the seventh wheel. Not to put him in charge of the vehicle.

Well, what about Hunk? Hunk is incredibly intelligent and analytical. He probably could lead Voltron, and did in several occasions. But Hunk’s arc is interesting because it was handled so early in the show. Unlike the rest of the team, Hunk’s arcs were solved largely in the first season. His biggest flaws were his distrust of people and, literally, his inability to fly. He could not take his feet off the ground. He was so untrusting that he could not manage to take a step forward. However his bonding with Yellow and trust with the team and their subsequent and returned trust resolved these issues, more or less, which is probably why Hunk was treated more and more like a side character the longer VLD went on. Hunk didn’t need the role of Black Paladin because he had settled into the Yellow Paladin in a way that was sustainable.

Pidge is in a similar boat. Her arc, primarily, has been about finding her family. Voltron was almost second priority for her, or at least not her only first priority. And understandably so! As the youngest she was afforded with that lenience. Her growth was about growing into her own pain, about becoming her own person alongside what she had become in the absence of her brother. As the Black Paladin, she would no longer have the space to prioritize her search for her family alongside Voltron, so her position as Black Paladin would be unstable. She is best suited in Green, where she can focus on several things at once.

That really only leaves Keith. In many ways it comes full circle — the Black Lion healing from her grief by choosing the man who ran from his Galran heritage and his power as a leader, rather than the man who chose nationalism and power over anything else. Keith is Zarkon’s direct opposite, and as such is the other side of the same coin, the one who is truly Black’s Chosen. We know this because Keith is the one who wields the Black Bayard, and Keith is, from the very beginning, the one the rest of the team chooses to follow — I ask you whether it was for Shiro that the three other humans ran off to chase in the desert, or Keith? Who was it that Lance could not leave alone? Who was it that piqued Hunk’s curiousity? Who was it that challenged Pidge to choose Voltron, rather than the search for her family?

That covers Black Paladin Keith. But what about Red Paladin Lance? I’ve established already why he cannot be the Black Paladin, but why did he have to move from Blue? For that, I bring you another few slices from early, S2 and previous canon:

“I thought what we had was special!” “Seventh wheel, if you count the Alteans.” More than once, Lance laments over being forgotten. He struggles with feeling like anything but the extra, the unnecessary. Whether or not Blue Chose him is irrelevant — he does not feel Chosen by her. The Pilot of the Blue Lion position for Lance is as unsustainable as the Pilot of the Black Lion position for Shiro — Lance does not trust it. He doesn’t trust himself in the role, and doesn’t trust Blue in having chosen it for him. Obviously, this is not the role for him.

But Red? Keith’s Red Paladin, at least? Yes, he struggles with feeling like Keith’s second, but that is literally his arc. Lance’s development is about becoming his own person despite his own misgivings about being second-best. His role as the Red Paladin is the fulfilling of his arc, and is thus the best Lion for him, the Chosen. And Red did Choose him, mind you. There was an adjustment period, of course there was, but Red did more than let Lance pilot her. She opened up new possibilities for Lance — think the broadsword — that he could not see. Red saw his potential and revelled in it. She Chose him.

Lastly — and this turned out to be less relevant to the essay than I expected, but I do want to go over it a tad — is Shiro’s tie to humanity. I mentioned two important points: Shiro’s connection to mortality makes him the most intimate with his humanity out of all the characters, and he is undoubtedly the flattest character of them all. That is, if you don’t consider his clone to be part of his character.

But I’m begging you to reconsider. Reconsider, perhaps, who the clone is — Haggar had pure access to Shiro for a year, you remember. His thoughts, his dreams, his mannerisms, his priorities, his body. Even him at his most human, his most deranged, his most scared. She had Shiro then. She had Shiro when he had nothing to look forward to. She had Shiro when he hurt his crew to make sure they would live, at direct cost to himself.

She stripped him of his humanity — his connection to his own mortality. She took his illness from him. And who, then, did she return to the team? Who was clone? Shiro, mostly. The clone was happy to play with the team. The clone was clever. The clone believed, fully, that he was Shiro, only he was angrier and meaner, a little, and less capable of shoving down his own pain. Shiro, stripped of his tie to humanity and mortality, stripped of his compulsive need to be strained and stressed and the one everyone else can rely on, the Role rather than the Person, is emotional. He has flaws and outbursts. He can’t manage his own pain. He is is cruelest to the one person on the team — Lance — who canonically reminds him closest of himself.

Shiro, in the purest form that Haggar can make him, is flawed and self-hating. That is where our love for him comes. Not the man who pushes himself down at the same time as he sacrifices his personality to be someone for others, but the man who is struggling and can’t keep it locked down. That’s where it comes from.

Anyways. Like with my other essay, I’ll admit that this analysis is probably reading into this. The writing of VLD was flawed, at best, but regardless, I think the lion change is a rich amalgamation of the characters and who they really are.

[sugarsnappeases]

hi karaaaaaa talk to me about any rare pair you feel like yapping about <3

aaaaaa hiii this made me so happy <333 i’ve decided it’s Time for us to have a proper chat about tomlily….. @quillkiller and i’s second-born child

the first thing you need to know is that they’re both sociopaths (sociopath lily oh how i looove youuu)..... i made this post before about the quote 'beautiful monsters composed of every individual perfection' and how it relates to lily, but i think it's interesting to consider in terms of her being a sociopath (this is actually how our first tomlily convo began, way back whenever it was). her making sure that every part of herself is viewed as perfect, carefully curating her public image - she's the miracle muggleborn! so smart, so kind, so helpful and friendly and every single good characteristic! a shoe-in for head girl, the perfect prefect, responsible and hard-working and everything that anyone could possibly want from her! and she's good at it too. everyone sees her exactly as she wants them too..... not unlike our good friend tom marvolo riddle when he was at hogwarts...........

i think one of the central parts of their relationship is the concept of immortality. they’re both kind of made up of the same sort of thing. they’re the same at their cores. both of them showed up at hogwarts as muggleborns thrust into a completely new world and they’re both so determined to succeed and be more than what they came from and to have absolutely everything, to have their cake and eat it too!!!!! for lily, this comes in the form of being revered, putting herself on a pedestal, she’s going to Leave Her Mark and be remembered and she doesn’t care what she has to do to get there (btw i really recommend this fic about sociopath lily, it’s so so interesting and i think nearly entirely encapsulates my vision of her……). the idea that if she can’t be immortalised in her deeds while she’s alive, she’s going to become immortal in her death, martyring herself. she’s a saint, she’s a puppet master, she’s as close to a god as a girl can get.

without. of course. resorting to actual immortality. which is the path tommy boy chooses. obviously. i think there are such parallels here. he’s a presumed-muggleborn, in slytherin, the house of the ambitious and the pureblood supremacists, he’s got the biggest god complex known to man and he grew up in an orphanage in london in the middle of the blitz!!!! all factors that contribute to his fear of death and his desperation to be More Than That. more than just another orphan killed by a bomb. more than just another nameless muggleborn lost in the pureblood-centric society. more than anything that anyone has ever seen before. he’s going to make a name for himself, and he’s going to make sure that nobody ever forgets it, and he’s going to be immortal. he’s going to be more god than man (even if it makes him a monster).

anyway. taking them together, as you can see, they’re cut from the same cloth (although side note!! i think lily’s lack of fear of death gives her the potential to be even more dangerous than tom is….) and bc of this, they’re the only ones who can see under each other’s carefully curated masks (although!! another side note… i think they each have another person who can - dumbledore for tom, and petunia for lily, but that’s not entirely relevant rn).

they understand each other and they want to cut each other open and burrow their way into each other’s rib cages. they kill people together - lily is much more messy w it, all blood under her nails and on her teeth. tom prefers the cleanliness of an avada kedavra but the blood gets all over his clothes anyway from when he touches lily. also cannibalism and intricate blood rituals that bind them together forever and intertwining themselves so thoroughly that nothing could ever separate them (although! another side note! jen and i don’t think they’re at all interested in sex. the other things they do (murder etc) are far more intimate and romantic and exciting to them!!!!).

and in the end, they’ll kill each other, pull each other apart and devour each other entirely. the only person who could possibly kill tom is lily, and vice versa, they’re the only ones that would have the right to, or the power to, or deserve to etc etc. at the end it’s always them, a ticking time-bomb. them and a knife or a gun or a curse or a fire and their teeth sinking into each other and their blood flowing through each other’s veins and over each other's dying bodies. bc tom is the only one that Sees lily and lily is the only one that Sees tom, and they recognise themselves in each other and it’s soul-deep and dangerous and nasty and hungry and knowing and self-destructive and so so so sooooo interesting to me

consider: two people w the most Pristine public reputations. they’re politicians or something w bright white smiles and absolutely No skeletons in the closet. it’s a Win for non-purebloods worldwide to see them succeeding, they’re exemplary students and people and Public Figures. EXCEPT!!!! as it turns out!!!! they’re fucking serial killers!!!!! i imagine them falling asleep in each other’s arms covered in blood from their latest victim, having their morning shower together, washing the blood out of each other’s hair and then going into the office….. they get caught. eventually. obviously. and it’s probs lily’s fault lol. but GOD guysss just imagine the scandal. the headlines. the shock and intrigue and horror at these two Perfect People having done such horrific things. they go on the run and/or commit a little bit of murder-suicide before they get caught btw. like i said nobody kills them but each other…. anyway enough from me!!!! thank you for letting me ramble <333

[inkedroplets]

⭐star⭐

This has been staring at me from my inbox for weeks now and I'm so so sorry for only getting to it now. I'm pretty sure this was for the director's cut ask. This is from "Until the Road Runs Out" and it's one of my favorite interactions just because I don't get to write Kara and Lillian together all that often.

When she touched back down in front of the gate surrounding the jail, she was startled when it began to slide open jerkily as if her arrival had set off a motion alarm. There was a rusted whine that bleated out from whatever mechanism operated the gate that abated and she saw Lillian Luthor step through the opening that had appeared.  “Please don’t tell me you’ve been standing out here like a lovesick teenager?” She made a clucking sound with her tongue. “ This imbroglio is entirely your fault,” Lillian said, looking back at Kara with a look of disdain that she was accustomed to but for the first time felt entirely deserving of. “Yes, it is,” Kara murmured. “How is Lena?” “I think you already know.” Lillian studied her carefully and let a long silence pass between them before speaking again. “Despite Lena’s insistence on playing the martyr, I planned to secure her release today.” There was a fleeting sense of triumph followed by a cautious relief that was incredibly short-lived when she realized that Lillian was speaking in the past tense. “Planned to? What changed?” “You, Supergirl.” The poorly disguised impatience in Lillian’s voice turned a few degrees colder as if she suspected Kara of playing dumb. “I told you what would happen when Lena found out the truth. Do you remember?” “Yes,” Kara murmured, feeling strangely like she was being reprimanded. “I remember…” Initially, she had thought of what Lillian had said as a threat, a Sword of Damocles dangling precariously over her head that could fall at any time. Upon learning the way that Lena had found out her secret she had come to think of that conversation with Lillian as some ill omen that had finally come to pass. Now though, she understood what it had really been: A warning. One that she had ignored, the first of many that she had turned a blind eye to; too frightened of what she feared most becoming reality.  “She does hate you,” Lillian said, nodding thoughtfully, looking more as if she were merely thinking aloud rather than trying to twist the knife even deeper than it already was (even though hearing those words did just that.) “But she still protected you… Likely the last dying gasp of her affection for you. And that’s why she’ll need to remain here a bit longer…” “What do you mean?” Kara asked, a chill seeping into her voice. “A little more time here for her to dwell on what you’ve done and whatever love she once had for you will truly disappear and when that happens, she’ll swallow her pride and come to me for help. And then she’ll be able to put all of this foolishness behind her.” “You’re her mother,” Kara hissed, appalled that there were still depths that Lillian could sink to that could still surprise her. “If you want to hurt me… hurt me. If anyone deserves to be punished—” “I want what’s best for Lena,” Lillian said plainly, cutting her off without having to raise her voice.

Lillian is such a fascinating character to me and I really think this passage sums up Lillian in a warts and all kind of examination of her character. She absolutely does care for Lena but it's not in the way that Lena needs or deserves.

The concern she feels for her is buried so deep and masked underneath that cold primness that Lena's known all her life it might as well not be there at all. But in this scene with Kara, Lillian explains herself completely. She does want what's best for Lena (or what she thinks is best for her) but she's willing to let Lena suffer a bit more if it means severing the connection between Kara and her. And the funny thing is, I think if Lillian were kinder about it, informed Lena of her concerns, Lena would go with her willingly.

And in this scene, you get to contrast Lillian's pragmatism with Kara's need to feel punished for the part she's played and she gets exactly what she wants, but not in the way she wants. Lena is still being hurt when Kara wants all the blame (which I mean... It kind of is all her fault) It was fun to see two people with initially the same goal and set them up as the main conflict storywise going forward.

[radianceholy]

Owlcatober 2024 - Second Chances

"I miss you very much, Arueshalae. I'm sad we won't be able to play together anymore! I really, really loved you Arueshalae, really! I'll always wait for you."

Centuries after the end of the Fifth Crusade, Ember meets her childhood friend.

i have an agenda here and it's that i don't think corrupted arueshalae is fundamentally any different from normal arueshalae, and i really love the idea that even after diving off the deep end, she can't really escape herself. i got way too into this one and i hope that people enjoy it!!!

cw: gore, violence, eye trauma, threats and implications of sexual violence, choking, burning flesh

"It's her again, isn't it?" The child stared up at her, lip twitching in a way that betrayed a great deal more fear than she knew how to properly express. Caught between two terrible possibilities, and looking to the one adult left in her left in her life that would give her the time of day, as though she could make sense of her fears. 

"...It is. That's precisely why you must wait." 

She shook her head, defiant. She wasn't very old, even by human standards. Maybe ten, or at most, twelve. She was an orphan child that had latched onto Ember in one of her travels, and had been trailing behind her with open fascination for the better part of a year, viewing her with the kind of open fascination that comes from a mixture of desperation and unpunished optimism. She had a certain brightness about her that betrayed her gentler years, much as Ember did. The girl’s parents had been comfortably wealthy before their disappearance, and they surely loved her to bits. She remained certain that someday they'd return to draw her back into a life of comfort. Ember had never been so naive, even in her childhood years. Her father was not 'gone,' he was dead.

The years had shown Ember the limits of human kindness. Her disfigurement was considered holy, to some; on the rare occasions when she met those who called themselves the Redeemed, generations removed from those that followed her so long ago. Wrapped in a threadbare cloak doing too little to shelter her frail figure, the world had extracted its price for her mercies. Her missing fingers, her blind eye, the arm that had been severed at the elbow… according to them, it was all proof of her goodness. Proof of a virtuous martyr, it was said. She would smile, denying them in the gentlest of terms.

"I can't! She's going to hurt you!" 

Age changed a lot about her, she supposed, but she was still mortal, caught in the whorl of her own personal history. Perhaps it was gratifying, to see this girl so young as to think this kind of cruelty was truly abnormal. She'd learned the lesson long ago, and whenever she'd doubt that lesson, she'd suffer the consequences.

Sometimes, the guilty must be punished.

"She is. She made a promise to me that she would. She'll want to hurt you, too, just for being near me." 

"I can't… I don't wanna stay here alone," she sniffled. "You won't come back. Just like mother and father…"

Ember sighed softly, brushing the girl's tears away with her thumb. "I was a child, and I let myself go to war. I never knew how much I was hurting myself."

"But, big sister…" 

"Please," she urged, quietly. "You're just a little girl. You don't have to hurt yourself." The world won't get any kinder, no matter what you sacrifice. She smiled sadly, those last words left unsaid. 

The girl grabbed her hand, clutching it all the tighter. Ember's fingers were already growing numb, and her frail body didn't have much strength to resist. She had a great power at her disposal, certainly, but none she would bring to bear against a child. She had spent her many years wandering the world, struggling to balance gentle guidance and harsh discipline. She was no closer to knowing, even hundreds of years after she left the Redeemed behind. She didn't quite know how to say it to this girl, but there were no answers she could give that would heal her heart and cure her of her fear and grief.

She sighed weakly, bowing her head.

"... There's one thing that you can do for me. But you have to follow my instructions exactly."

The girl nodded, tears in her eyes. 

"...Exactly what I say," she emphasized. "And if I cry out, you can't run to me. Remember that, no matter what."

-

Temples dedicated to Desna were always beautiful, each in their own ways. Grand skylights, beautiful painted murals, intricate architecture. ‘Opulent’ was never the right word, even if Ember had seen some reach rather grand heights. It was… inspiring, perhaps. She’d certainly witnessed a great many taking comfort in the temple. Mortal artists and architects poured their efforts into capturing a kind of beauty older than Golarion itself, and all mortal life upon its soil. In the heavens, there are stars. On the earth, there are flowers. In mortal hearts, there is love. 

This temple, too, was beautiful. An eye like Ember's could see it, no matter how it appeared to the world. Viscera strewn about, draped over the temple's pillars. Blood was splattered and smeared all over the walls and windows, and the stars outside twinkled through a crimson mirror. Two bodies lay together, gutted, their hearts torn from their chests even as their figures entwined in beautiful repose Red, red, red. She could feel the blood sticking to her bare feet, spilling out from bodies that were carved and sliced open with an artisan’s touch. Soot perched on her shoulder, wings tucked close against her sides. Some were still twitching, letting out gurgling, pathetic noises, in the throes of a succubus' kiss. All were beyond saving. 

"You're late," a sweet voice chided her, lounging at the foot of a statue of Desna in flight. It, too, was soaked in blood; intestines wrapped around her neck like a beautiful wreath. Strings of severed hands clung to her form. Grasping at her for grace, perhaps.

"You like it, don't you?" Arueshalae crowed, lounging on her throne of corpses so brutalized they could scarcely be recognized as human. The clergy had been stripped naked, faces torn off of their heads. The hollow stare of bloody, eyeless sockets gazed pleadingly towards Ember, like so many desperate followers seeking to abandon the demon lords that abused them. There was scarcely a speck of blood on Arueshalae's skin. Not so much as a drop, really. "My work. Payment to the Goddess for her kindness towards me. Her mercy." She sighed, seeming happy with herself. Happiness was a performance, and satisfaction was another piercing thrust. If it wasn't, it might be silent here for a moment too long. “If you’d come a few hours sooner, you could have saved some of them," she said, voice dripping with honey. "If you’d been here yesterday, they’d all be going about their lives quite happily. But you came much too late. How very sad, isn't it?”

"You always come to places like this." Ember's voice carried the slightest tremor. There were some people, she knew, that she couldn't help.

"And why shouldn't I?" She laughed. "She taught me so many wonderful things about mortals! Have you come to forgive me yet again?" She sits up, leering at her. "Their deaths are on your head, you know. Every last one."

"You did this," she said, failing to keep her voice even. "To them, and to you. Who are you really punishing?" Her anger was a sickening aberration, as twisted and malignant as the guilt that she felt.

“It’s you, of course!” She laughed. "So desperate! So utterly sincere! Laying your heart bare, where anyone could pierce it. Do you remember how gentle it was, when you held me in your arms? I would have drunk every last drop of you if I could have,” she purred. Her voice shifted, as suddenly as flipping a switch. She gasped and choked, tears in her eyes, wings folded in against her sides, eyes wide, demure, and trembling. “O-oh, Ember… Ember, please believe me. I'm so sorry-! I’ve done so many terrible things, and there’s no one else I can turn to! You have to trust me…!" 

Her one good hand touched the scar over her right eye, without thinking. Discipline. She had been taught discipline... but she wanted to believe, too. Arueshalae laughed uproariously, flashing a wicked grin. 

"You're so weak! So easy to manipulate. No matter how often you deny me, you always twist yourself into such convenient knots. It's pathetic, you know. It–" She suddenly froze. Ember's heart tightened, and for a moment, she didn't dare breathe. "--Wait. What is that? That sound. Is that…?"

Ember’s eyes blazed, as Flames danced at the tips of her fingers. Her anger was malignant, a twisted and hateful thing. She despised herself for being less than the savior the redeemed wished of her. But she had to admit, even if only to herself.

It was a mighty weapon.

Her cloak blew back, as Soot took to the air, a great pillar of flame tearing through the temple. The force of the explosion burned Arueshalae's gruesome throne to ash, Desna herself blackened and purified by a roaring pyre. The bloodstained windows burst into shards of glass, raining down to the ground in a shower of glittering moonlight.

"Your funny little tricks," Arueshalae cackled. She’d moved so fast, Ember hadn’t even seen it, but she was unscathed by the blast. Her reflexes were sharper than ever, and Ember’s body had only gotten weaker. She landed upon Desna's statue, one foot callously pressing down upon the head of the goddess. She toyed with one of her trophies - it was a beautifully engraved starknife, likely wrenched from the palm of some poor priest. It was made for ceremonial purposes, perhaps, but she knew from experience it would be exactly as deadly as it needed to be in Arueshalae’s hands. "Awfully quick to rely on them, too. Did you really lose your forgiving spirit? Or did I touch a nerve? Who is it, then, scurrying around in the shadows? An ally? A friend? A moon-eyed follower, blinded by your wisdom? I thought that filthy bird was the last friend you have left."

Ember couldn’t let her face give anything away, even if her pounding heart surely would have instead. A coil of flame burst forth from her palm, twisting through the air and streaking towards Arueshalae. Effortlessly, she leapt from her perch, wings spread as she swept through the smoke left in its wake. The knife whirled through the air, and Ember's movements were too slow. Blood spilled onto the stone as it carved through her side, slashing through her tattered, threadbare robes and worn-out cloak. A moment was all she needed. She dove, tackling her to the ground. She was small, frail. She'd survived on goodwill, and it was often in rare supply. Her back slammed against the ground and she screamed, hearing a loud crack from somewhere in her body as the demon leered at her from above. 

"...Oh, but there will be time for that soon enough. I missed seeing you like this." she purred. "Maybe when I take your other eye, I'll force feed that disgusting bird to you. Though... not before I make sure you see your little companion slaughtered, first. Whoever they are." She could hear Soot's crowing, feel the Succubus' hunger lapping at her abjurations, probing for a weakness it wouldn't find. The desire to see her pinned and humiliated was, perhaps, enough to distract a starving succubus, even if for but a moment. With one hand, Arueshalae forced Ember's good arm down. With the other, she stroked her sharp nails along her cheek in a gesture that almost seemed tender and fond. 

Ember's vision was cloudy, and she could only see her fangs, lips curled in a predatory satisfaction.

"Are you open to bargaining, at long last? The life of one follower isn't cheap, is it? I'll spare them, and you submit yourself to me. I could fit you with a collar and keep you chained to my throne. Tear out your tongue, so I don't have to listen to your obnoxious preaching. You'll be my blind, obedient little pet. You can sit by my side, listening to the music of the abyss and praying for my soul, as you always do." She ran a finger along her cheek, until it found the edges of her eyelids, prying it open and digging her claws that dug into her eye socket. "Forget that anything else in the cosmos even exists, save for me. I'll still show you far more kindness than these mortals have." 

She hissed in pain, twitching. Her arm jerked, but she was overpowered easily, even with her protective spells in place. She coughed on her own blood, letting out a weak, gurgling noise, but an odd smile formed on her lips.

"Oh, really? That pleases you, does it? You’ve spurned my affections so often. I thought you’d begun to hate me! Have you finally begun to submit?" Her nail dug in, close to gouging her eye out. “Praise me, and I’ll consider letting you keep your tongue. You can lavish me with those sweet words that lead doomed men back to the light and preach to me as much as you please, if you use it to lick my boots.” 

Ember let out a weak, trembling sound. She had changed over so many centuries, but even now, her heart… Her foolish, weak, sentimental heart…

“Go on! A bit louder. I can’t hear you.”

"You really can't let go," she whispered. "Of me, of Desna…" 

"Shut up," she snarled, pressing her finger in deeper. Ember let out an excruciating howl of pain. "I’ve changed my mind. You'll be better off without a tongue."

"...That's why you went after Seelah, too, all of those years ago… isn't it? She loved you like a sister."

"And she paid for it!" She barked out a laugh. "There's no one left to even tend to her grave!" 

"We didn't regret loving you."

Through the blood in her eye, Ember could still see her flinch back as if struck, her expression contorted into a mask of pain and rage. Her claw retracted from her eye socket. She looked up, with what little slack she’d now been given. The hole she'd blown through the ceiling gave her a good look at the church's bell tower. The night was full of stars.

"I don't regret loving you now, either," she whispered, her raspy voice carried by a faint, lonesome wind blowing through the desecrated temple.

Her lip curled into a snarl. "How pointlessly fucking vapid."

Ember looked into her eyes. "It's true," she sighed softly. "You were my childhood friend."

"Spare me!" Her voice rose to a shout, and her weight bared down upon her with far more intensity. Her ribs creaked under the pressure, and Ember let out an involuntary whimper of pain. But as Arueshalae drew in close, her voice was a deathly-quiet whisper.

"You should have killed me back then."

She squeezes her eye shut. "You were hurting..."

"You should have killed me," she repeated, cutting her off with a snarl, "the moment you heard about the turncoat demoness. The moment you saw me simpering and begging in my cell. If not then, when I threw myself back into that very same cell out of fear. If not then, when my sins were laid bare before you." Her voice trembled, rising to a fevered, maddened pitch. "You should have killed me when my eyes were blinded by starlight. When the song still echoed sweetly in my ears! You should have killed me when I could have hoped to be anything more than this! Let me die believing in a foolish promise of freedom, or kill me now, so that it finally end!" With a violent lurch, she wrapped both hands around Ember's neck, and slammed her head into the stone. 

Arueshalae’s grip had snapped her wrist, but the pain didn't matter. Nor did the stars in her eyes. With the last of her breath, she disappeared in a flash of light, body crumpling behind the temple's altar, struggling even to breathe.

Arueshalae let out a roar, grabbing the bloodied starknife from the ground, wings flaring in anger. "Not again!" She screamed. "You aren't going to do this again! I'll punish every filthy beggar who dared to accept a scrap of your charity! I'll hunt you down! I'll make you forget your own name, and I’ll rip everything you accomplished to shreds!" 

Ember murmured another incantation, trying to block out the anguished threats. Blood was still gushing from her eye, and her wrist was already beginning to swell, but she had more than enough power in her to stop the pain, even as frail as her body is. Positive energy washed through her body in a warm wave. 

"You'll live in your own piss and shit, that’s how far beneath me you are! You'll survive ten thousand years in my care, and scrape against the ground while I feed you the rotten meat of your own followers! I will brand you with my mark so that no one will ever look upon you without knowing who you belong to! I'll fuck you to death and stitch together what's left, so that I can fuck you to death all over again!" She leapt over the altar, frenzied, teeth bared.

The tolling of a bell could pierce clamor just as it could silence. Arueshalae screamed, her charge broken. The ranting and raving ceased, her body twisting and writhing in pain, and she hugged herself. She let out a whimper, collapsing atop the stone slab as though she were some ritual sacrifice. "What… what is that? What is that sound?"

"Your gift to us," Ember replied, her voice soft. She stepped backwards, never taking her eye off of her. "Do you remember? You might have succeeded in killing me, but you chose this place... this church. You really can't let go..." 

"That… bell? That stupid, insignificant little bell? It's here?! Of all places-!" 

Ember's voice echoed through the temple like the word of the divine.

"Burn."

Soot sat upon the statue of Desna, the blaze dancing in her beady eyes. 

"For the love of the gods, she's a child! She's a child!" He tore frantically through the wood at the base of the pyre, throwing it aside as his skin blistered and his clothes caught flame. He must have been in such terrible pain, but he wouldn't let himself stop until he could finally reach her. He desperately tore at her ropes with his own hands, his flesh beginning to melt. Screaming, screaming. The inquisitors wouldn't stop him, too paralyzed to slaughter their own, but neither would they help him, too faithful in their righteous cause. A witch should burn.

A witch should burn. 

The centuries had changed her, certainly, but not enough. Not nearly enough. The moment that a shred of doubt crept into her mind was the same moment she knew it had to end. She would pray for the Demon Lords of the Abyss, because no one else would. She would pray for Arueshalae, no matter how twisted she became. What hope was there for the wicked and forgotten, if no one would recognize their suffering? How could anyone ever challenge the abyss, if every right-minded crusader and gods-fearing mortal already accepted its terms?

Screams echoed through the temple. It must have been unimaginably painful. In her childhood, she took pity on the man who set the flames, and she took pity on the man who quenched them. She took pity on them all, and in her heart, her innocent and childish heart, she knew that there had to be a better way. Sacrifice would never make the world any kinder. A quiet little cabin somewhere, maybe. Or an endless road, promising freedom. A gentle word. A song. A single, fleeting moment of peace. But a sacrificial pyre?

Never. Never.

-

The little girl crept closer to Ember, anxious and pale. No doubt she heard some of Arueshalae’s uninhibited taunts, or Ember’s screams of pain. At very least Ember made sure to clear out the gore and corpses before allowing her to come wait in the ruined temple with her. The room smelled like smoke and ash, and it was a bitter, acrid thing, but it was no longer the gruesome sight it was before.

“I did well, didn’t I, big sister? When I rang the bell, it helped?”

“You did well,” she nodded. “You made it just in time, and you weren’t seen. I’m proud of you.”

“She’s… she’s not gonna hurt you? Or me? You’re sure of it?” The little girl glanced down at the face of the demon, fidgeting and squirming.

“I’m sure,” she replied.

“How do you know?”

“Look at her eyes.”

…It was a fitful sleep, but she could see it. Movement beneath her closed eyelids. Even demons could dream, after all.

“She’s pretty,” she said, almost without thought. “...Why did she hate you so much, big sister?”

Ember shook her head. "It isn't the right time to say. She needs her sleep."

A fat, orange cat sat on top of the roof of a warehouse. How did it get up there…? It was a mouser, but it was also well-fed and well loved. It was clean, groomed, and taken care of. It wore a cute little collar. She touched down on the roof, as gentle as could be, and lay beside the it, watching it for as long as it remained, but never creeping any closer. How simple it would be, to be born as something so effortlessly loved…

The world was better off when the Worldwound closed, but whenever she thought of her happiest moments… when the haze of violence cleared from her eyes and she could remember happiness at all, rather than a perpetual numbing hunger and clawing hatred... she thought about the war. Mortals, marching into a desolate and dead land, fighting against an incomprehensibly vast foe, and her place among them. Nervously braiding a young girl's hair. A joyous cry of ‘Sister!’ from someone bold enough to call her a friend. A thousand and one jokes she never quite understood. Two women so deeply in love their lives were like one. Art and poetry. Cold and uncompromising duty. A cause she believed in with her entire heart, even if her heart was forever unknown to her.

Dreams. Beautiful, lovely dreams, clutched greedily in her arms. 

When she opened her eyes, she found herself laying on Ember’s lap. Above her, a fat crow sat on a burned statue of the goddess, a beautiful little butterfly perched on her beak. Beyond that, a burning hole that had been blown through the ceiling, and far above, she could see the stars. She saw them in her Knight Commander’s eyes, once. Cold, distant, and impassive. Her judgment was certain. Her role in the cosmos had been long predetermined. What use is there, fighting the irrevocable law of her nature?

And yet... In the fog of sleep, she could imagine them, ever-so-briefly, to be a mercy. Just as she did before, when the future inspired hope instead of... boredom and fear. They were glittering map of beauty, myth, heroism and love, displayed upon a marvelous tapestry. In her weakness, she could see how lovely the heavens were. Just as the earth had flowers. Just as her heart had…

…

“Sh- she’s awake?” The voice of a terrified child. A snarling instinct roared within Arueshalae, hammering against her psyche. Kill her swiftly enough that Ember couldn’t stop her. Torment her with her failure! Bathe in her blood!

…She couldn’t bring herself to move. Ember had healed her completely, and the agonizing pain of that divine flame washing over her was gone, but somehow, she could no longer find the strength for it. Perhaps it had burned something crucial out of her being, rendering her helpless. She’d remain, a declawed and neutered demoness. How pathetic.

“You were so close,” she said. “Why can’t you just kill me?”

“It’s love,” Ember answered sadly, looking away. “If I don’t love you, then no one will ever love you again. My friend, who would shelter me from the rain…”

“Stop. Ember, stop…”

“You were always so afraid, Arueshalae.”

“I was fooling myself,” she spat, failing to drum up her usual level of venom and spite. “Fooling you, too. A demon can't love.”

“I still see her in you. Even now.”

“That girl you knew was a figment. A dream. A lie! Haven’t I proven that, yet!?”

“If she was a dream,” she said, “then isn’t she the answer to the riddle that vexed you so?”

It felt as though something in her broke. Centuries of pressure had built up, and now released. She hissed, like an angry cat, trying to sputter out some half-formed insult. What came instead was a soft moan, as tears welled in her eyes. She choked, clutching at Ember’s tattered robes.

For the first time in centuries, Arueshalae began to cry.

[jyndor]

oh my god

a show written by white us americans for us american kids, while often spot on with its anti-imperialism, is not actually the end all be all for how occupied and marginalized peoples can respond to their oppression and genocide. weirdo.

full disclosure I have my problems with the portrayals of jet and hama for this exact reason that i have previously written about here. because ultimately the gaang represent "good" resistance - mostly defensive/nonviolent. jet represents "bad" resistance, namely violent property damage that would have caused civilian casualties if sokka hadn't warned them. and hama, who thanking this op didn't bring up, is supposed to show how trauma can make a person do terrible things but really it just feels like a racist, misogynistic way to both sides colonialism and imperialism.

now unless I'm misremembering the story (I am not) that episode took place in the earth kingdom. why were those innocent fire nation civilians so close to the valley that jet was trying to protect? why was he worried about them encroaching on that valley enough to destroy the dam?

because they were settlers. the fire nation was trying to defeat and occupy the entire world, of course their settlers weren't just innocent civilians, they played a role like all settlers do in all conflicts. and jet and his freedom fighters were all displaced by the fire nation. they were refugees.

in the end, the gaang may have their problems with jet's tactics but they still mourn him and understand that he is RESISTING oppression, and not that he is the same as his oppressor.

katara is UNIQUELY empathetic and decent at times. during the painted lady, she makes it clear that she wants the liberation of ALL - including her oppressors who are also victimized by fire nation imperialism (and capitalism lbr). she sees the class dynamics in the fire nation, sees how they harm the villagers of jang hui. how the military industrial complex poisons fire nation citizens - literally. the problem is that they are happy to take her help when they think she is one of them, but when she reveals herself to be a waterbender, they turn away from her in their racist, xenophobic disgust.

the truth is that katara's form of universal liberatory politics is just one form of resistance against oppression. sometimes atla veers into making it seem like the only acceptable form of resistance, which is quite convenient for the white us americans who wrote the show.

one of atla's main ideas is that imperialism harms everyone, including the beneficiaries of imperialism. it was also written in the early to mid 2000s during the so-called war on terrorism, and with a us american audience in mind. so no I am not surprised that jet isn't seen in a totally positive light, nor am I surprised that the fire nation is occasionally presented in a "not all fire nation" way. it still posits that those innocent civilians are racist/colonizers and frankly complicit in many ways for what the fire nation is doing abroad.

this is why jet isn't a villain, he's just a complicated character. why he is made a martyr. why katara mourns him even if she's angry with him.

as for whether or not katara would condemn hamas... I'm not sure it matters. movements regularly have infighting and disagreements on tactics. even so, atla is a TV show. palestine is a real place with real people who have tried all kinds of forms of resistance. nothing is ever good enough for supporters of the settler colonial project of israel because the point is never, ever to live together in peace. two state solution? where do you see that in atla? if ANYTHING the show calls for pluralism and freedom of movement for all. for an end to nation states and nationalism, as well as preservation of all cultures. liberation for all.

I can't speak to the mess of the comics or lok because I don't care about those but if we're just talking about atla... come on. it's free palestine.

also nice false equivalency between the free palestine movement as a whole and hamas, which is just one part of the movement. racist dipshit genocide apologist.

[coffinsister]

Julia trying to decide on what kind of cards and candy to get Andrew and Ashley? That or Andrew trying to make a bunch of anonymous cards for his sister without getting found out.

-Solace

I chose the first prompt! Because Andrew giving his sister anonymous letters is already an internal part of my other fics. I hope you enjoy it, love.

Julia just wanted to get along with her boyfriend's little sister again. Honest!

Somehow, she wasn't expecting the holiday to be so nerve-wracking, but here she was!

Julia stood in front of the chocolate store, she had never been at at such a fancy one before. Her lips pursed together in a wobbly line.

She kept fidgeting with her long bangs, usually she didn't mind then, Julia could see just fine through them.

But right now.

Right now, it was like she couldn't see anything.

And she was sure she had been standing outside of the store looking in for way too long already.

And she didn't know if actually going in would be more awkward, than not going in by now. Julia sighed.

In reality, Julia already knew what she wanted to pick.

How could she not, when it was this on the nose? The two little rabbits made out of chocolate were right there.

And granted, she could admit she hadn't been the closest friend to Ashley, granted, Ashley didn't really have any friends, and granted, their friendship had started because Andrew had asked her, and her own best friend, to sit together with his little sister.

But still.

Julia had seen Ashley's little doodles during class, back when they still had classes together that is.

So Julia knew at least a few things that Ashley liked.

Such as her brother, her choker, doodling, and doodling rabbits. She felt a pang of guilt.

Because she didn't really know anything else about Ashley, did she? A pang of guilt like a needle poking at her ribcage.

“Well… nobody can say I didn't try.”

Julia muttered to herself, her eyes travelling towards the other chocolate boxes.

It's not like Ashley had tried to get close with her either. Julia had actually made an effort at the start.

She had asked Andrew to bring his sister along to their dates, she had tried to speak to Ashley, invited her over to their dorm.

But Julia wasn't the best at socializing, and she had the feeling that even if she were the best at it, Ashley still wouldn't like her.

Julia bit the inside of her cheek.

Her mouth was filled with little scar marks from her bad habits. She couldn't help but bite whenever she got anxious.

And Julia couldn't help but get anxious, whenever she remembered their times together. It has ingrained itself into her brain.

How dead Ashley looked whenever Andrew wasn't paying attention to her.

Julia thought: Ashley was actually pretty much the same as she was, back when they were both children.

Ashley had this particular way about her.

Her arms would raise, and she would squish her nose like a bunny, and her eyes would get all teary and red.

Like a child about to throw herself to the ground, and get into a tantrum.

It made Julia feel a little guilty, because Ashley always showed her that face, whenever she showed up at their apartment’s street, and took Andrew out, with her, somewhere.

She had the feeling that Ashley disliked herself too much, to allow anybody else to like her, and as Julia didn't favour herself a full-time martyr just yet, their relationship didn't go anywhere.

It's not like she was going to keep him forever! Just a few hours, a couple days a week.

She would have been satisfied with just that. Hell, she would have been satisfied with even less than that.

Julia looked away from the chocolate boxes.

Her sister had called her a wuss far too many times before. And Julia was starting to dread her sister was right.

She moved her bangs away from her face a final time, and then they fell right back on top of her face.

“Mhhhm” She closed her eyes and garnered up all her bravery.

Julia wondered if she could wrap them up with pink and green ribbons. 

She opened her eyes “Ah…” And walked into the store.

Might as well get it done with already right.

Julia made a quick bee-line towards the bunnies encapsulated in plastic, she awkwardly stood in line, constantly reminding herself that nothing was actually happening, and the world wasn't actually ending.

After a little while she paid, and left.

Julia walked through the streets of their shitty middle of nowhere town, and thought, if nobody spoke to her, she probably wouldn't speak ever again.

She made a left, and went into the same stationary store, she and her sister had been going to since they were little kids.

Julia quickly scanned the options with her eyes, but she already knew exactly what she was going to choose.

Those thin shiny ribbon strands, of look-at-me pink, and green, hanging together in the very back of the wall.

“Those ones please… Yes, just a half a meter. I need a tiny plastic bag too” Julia pointed at them, while keeping her gaze fixated on the register's glass table.

Julia searched with her eyes “And, uhmm… Do you have any tiny gift bags?”

The clerk showed her their selection, and she picked the little black and white pouch. Julia found that what the Graves Siblings liked, was actually oddly predictable.

What they didn't like seemed to be the hard part for her to guess.

She grabbed the bag and the ribbons, paid with a few loose coins, and left.

Julia already knew there was a little street bench she could use nearby, so she quickly made her way over there, and sat down.

She placed the open pouch on her lap, and with as much love and care as she could, took both of the chocolate bunnies out of their enclosure.

She hadn't realized they were melted together in the back.

“Isn't that fitting?” Julia supposed she sounded bitter, but her face was smiling.

Maybe, Andrew and Ashley would have to break them to eat them, but Julia decided to let them be stuck together.

Carefully she grabbed the green ribbon, and placed it on the taller bunny's neck.

She spun it around, one two three times, until she felt satisfied with the look of it.

Then Julia did the same with the pink ribbon to the smaller bunny.

There was a small side of Julia that was sure, nobody had ever been this gentle with Ashley before.

She felt a little sad, as she placed them inside the darkness of the pouch together, but at least they had each other, right.

And maybe she should have done this before today, but, she hadn't felt like it.

Procrastination was a sign of anxiety, or something like that, right?

Julia decided it was best not to tell them that.

She quickly stood up, and made her way to their apartment. 

Julia absentmindedly remembered her sister's voice, telling her her boyfriend should have been the one coming to her, and not the other way around.

“...Who cares?” 

She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, looking at the cracks on the pavement, and at those little bits of rock that seemed to shine for no reason.

She stopped in automatic in front of their building. 

Julia recognized it from the one time she had visited it with Andrew before dating, and for the myriad of times she had rejected coming here with Ashley.

There was something deeply scary to little girl her, about whatever was living together, with little girl Ashley.

But now, it felt almost reassuring, because if Andrew had invited her back here, even after the disaster that had been her first visit to his apartment, then surely some improvement there must have been, right

Hopefully.

Julia looked up, and for a second, she felt the back of her hairs stand up, as if she were a cat.

There, right above her, was Ashley peeking through their balcony.

Ashley waved, her mouth was pursed into a tight line, and the movement was oddly stiff, but Julia was pretty sure it was a wave. 

Julia shily waved back, Ashley looked taken back for a moment. It made her wince. And just as mysteriously as she had appeared, Ashley disappeared back into her apartment. 

Julia nodded to herself, her resolve to get up there, and hand Ashley her chocolate bunny grew stronger, and more defined. 

She went up the stairs, all the way to the Graves’s floor. She knocked on their door, trying to ignore the obvious spots of humidity on it.

“Hey, Julia” Andrew opened the door, and invited her inside.

“Hi, Andrew” Julia tried to smile through her anxiety.

“You” Ashley said, walking from their balcony towards the entrance door.

“Me!”

Andrew already looked tense. He began “I was thinking-”

Julia was going to have to interrupt him, she felt bad, but if she didn't do it now, it was never going to get done.

The words exploded out of Julia’s mouth “I'm sorry, Andrew, I don't want to be rude, but here you go!”

And she opened the little black and white pouch to reveal the duet of chocolate bunnies. 

“Wait, you got me something too?”

“Wait, you got her something too?”

Okay, not exactly the reactions Julia was hoping to get, after she presented them with her little gift, but hey, it was better than nothing, right.

Ashley got the bunnies out of the bag. She held onto it with her left one, and on the right she latched onto the chocolates.

Ashley held onto their gift with gripped hands, the bones in her hands showing through her paper white skin, like she was afraid somebody was going to take it away from her.

“It’s my gift too, Ashley” Andrew said, he had this tone of voice, like he was warning his sister of something “At least let me look at it too…”

Ashley turned to look at him, her grip tensed once more before she finally released “Fine.”

She handed it over to Andrew, Julia had found she could seldomly read Andrew's expressions, even when he was distant, even when he wasn't, whatever was actually going through her boyfriend’s mind was mostly a mystery to her. 

“Thank you for the gift, Julia” But her stomach still went wild with butterflies, and something akin to the anxiety of a panic attack, whenever he smiled at her like that.

So it was all worth it, really.  

Life was usually boring, and gray, and more miserable than not. So Julia thought, she deserved to feel alive too sometimes. 

She made sure her sleeves weren't slipping too low down her arms, Ashley gave her that look that let her know, she Knew. 

Julia gave both of the siblings a tentative smile “So did you like them? They reminded me of you guys when I saw them, soo…  thought it would be a nice idea! Look, even the ribbons match you guys’s eyecolours.”

Andrew opened his mouth, but as Julia had gotten rather used to, Ashley shouted something in his place.

“Of course they look cute! They look like me!” And she unceremoniously bit an ear off the green rabbit. 

“You little shit! That was my gift” Andrew ripped the bunnies out of Ashley's hands, and bit the head off the pink one, leaving barely anything for the ribbon to keep clinging to.

Ashley dramatically gasped “You monster!”

And before Andrew could retort, Julia’s laughter was already filling up every brim and corner of their tiny and moldy apartment.

“What are you laughing at!?” Ashley turned to yell at her.

Julia felt her face and hands getting cold, oh she must have done something wrong here, but still, she couldn't stop laughing.

She choked out, between ragged breaths, and giggles “I'm sorry- I'm sorry-! You guys are so funny, I'm sorry!”

Ashley eyed her weirdly, putting both hands on her hips “Amused, are we?”

“Ashley…” That tone of warning on Andrew's tongue once more.

“You know, I might have something for you too. It’s in our room” Ashley practically barked out her words, and Julia felt like a tiny cornered mouse all over again.

Ashley scarcely made her way towards the siblings’s shared room.

Juliad watched her disappear. She had always been told she looked too tense, too scared, too unaware, like she was expecting a piano to fall from the sky and hit her some day, any day.

Julia couldn't understand how to not look like that, she couldn't really remember a time she didn't look like that. Childhood was blurry, amongst many other things. 

“Ah!” She squeaked.

Julia was pulled out of her black-void spacing out, by a big and reassuring, but deadly cold hand on her shoulder, right above her pointy bones.

“Don't be scared” Andrew told her with a warm smile on his lips “That's just Ashley's unnecessarily convoluted way of inviting you to our room.”

“Ah!” Julia perked up. This was the farthest she had ever gotten with Ashley “Really?”

“Would I ever lie to you?” Andrew made a show of dramatically placing his right hand on top of his heart, his left hand abandoning her arm, to be held up beside his face instead.

“Would you?” Julia poked her tongue out at him, and grabbed onto the sleeve of his sweater.

Julia had always appreciated that Andrew didn't question her, about why she jumped at every sudden noise, or why she began trembling, and got lightheaded, whenever a random person approached her.

She couldn't quite figure out if he understood her, sometimes she felt like he did, sometimes she felt wholly distant from him, but Julia felt accepted by Andrew, and that was far more than she had ever dared ask for. 

“Would I?” He grinned at her.

Andrew's eyes went to his right, from just the corner of his eyes, and in what was too calculated of a move, to be just a spur of the moment thing, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her right temple.

Julia felt her face go red hot in embarrassment.  

Andrew quickly parted from her.

“Let's hurry. You know… how Ashley gets.”

“Ye-yes” She nodded, passing her fingers through her collarbones. The evening was going so well, she didn't want to ruin it last second.

Andrew nodded at her, and Julia nodded back. 

They quickly made their way towards Ashley.

Honestly, Julia didn't know what was so weird about sharing a room with your sibling when you lived in such a tiny apartment, but her own sister was always complaining about it 

They were greeted by Ashley once they finally passed the threshold.

Ashley was sitting like a lotus flower on top of Andrew’s bed, her mouth in a flat line, she looked as unimpressed as one could be “Taking your sweet time, were you, Andy?” 

Julia pursed her lips.

“Don't call me that, Ashley.” Julia could have sworn she heard her boyfriend growling under his breath. 

There was something to be said, about how his sister seemed to be the only one capable of eliciting such a response out of him.

“Hmmp” Ashley rolled her eyes “Whatever. Andrew.” She stood up from the bed. 

Ashley walked over to the little desk they had pinned against the wall.

Julia took a second to look at it. It was a little cute, how obvious everything in this room was. 

On top of the table were Andrew's, very repetitive, and very thick, Sociology books (Julia had asked to see them once, he had complied, and once had been enough) and by their side, a bunch of little, obviously hand-made, Valentine’s cards, littered with crayon drawings and little bunny stickers.

Ashley opened the little drawer and quickly grabbed a piece of paper from the inside.

“Here” She shoved it into Julia’s unprepared hands “You get one of my original masterpieces, aren't you such a lucky one?”

Julia enthusiastically nodded along, she thought she looked kinda stupid, but she didn't really know how else to signal she was paying attention.

Ashley placed her hand on top of her lips “Yeah, you better appreciate it, you know, there's only two people in the whole world who possess one of my masterpieces. You are the second, look at you go, Jewels.”

Julia had only once asked Ashley why she called her Jewels, apparently it was because it sounded like Jules, nobody had ever called her Jules, at all, but she accepted it. 

“And the other person is me” Andrew said, giving his sister a blank stare “Highly exclusive club, truly.”

“Ah…” Julia finally gave herself a moment to look at her newly acquired gift. 

It was an old, crumpled up piece of paper, surely belonging to a very old notebook Ashley or Andrew had once owned. 

The date scribbled on top with black crayon, was Valentine's Day, of a decade ago, and below it, what she could only assume was Leyley's rendition of herself, Julia, and Andrew.

A big yellow heart next to Jiulia, an even bigger one next to Andrew, and no hearts for little Leyley.

There was a big tear in the paper.

Suddenly the memories came flooding in. 

Of all the times Ashley had asked her to come to their place to hang out, and how she had rejected her, every single time, each time with a different and new, infallible, excuse. 

Of how Valentine’s had been the last time Ashley had even attempted to ask.

Julia felt her eyes get watery, and the bridge of her nose tensing, and- 

No.

Julia refused to ever cry in front of Ashley again. 

Ashley would not let her live it down ever, and she did not want Andrew seeing her in such a state, while in front of his sister, Julia had this fear, that he wouldn't pick her over Ashley even in those moments. 

Julia held the paper, as delicately as she possibly could.

“Thank you, Ashley” Were those the right words to say right now, probably not, Julia never knew what the right words to say ever were “I didn't think, you would still have things from this long ago.”

Andrew sighed “You wouldn't believe the trash she clings to.”

“Bite me, Andrew” Ashley sat back in the bed, both her arms crossed over her chest.

The atmosphere was awkward, or maybe it was Julia who felt tension in everything, she had never been able to tell.

But she gulped down, and decided to make the extra effort. Julia found herself subconsciously reaching for Andrew's sleeve, like a little girl who needed help to cross the scary street, then she took two steps forward, with Andrew behind her, and she sat down on his bed.

Ashley stared at them with distrusting eyes, Andrew looked nervous too, but he sat down together with her.

This bed was definitely too small for three people. Julia felt it was kinda small for any boy over the age of 12, but she wasn't going to get into that right now, just the thought of Andrew's terrible parents made her want to scoff. 

Up close, Julia realized Ashley had backed herself into a corner, there was more space, even if just a little, but she was huddled against the wall.

Julia breathed, and huddled in closer to the wall in solidarity. 

Ashley looked at her like she had grown a third eye all of a sudden.

Ashley had always looked at her like this, even when they had been little, and Andy had asked them to sit together with his little sister during lunch time.

Ashley had always looked like she didn't believe anybody wanted to be near her, and thinking back on the drawing she had just received, Julia supposed she really couldn't blame her. 

Julia looked down at the drawing again, and bit the insides of her cheek so hard they bled.

“So, do you actually like drawing?” The question fell out of her mouth.

“Eh?” Ashley's mouth opened. She looked like she was expecting to get hit more than asked anything.  

“I mean, do you actually enjoy it, like as a hobby, or is it just for the Holiday?” Julia wasn't going to back down, she was genuinely interested here.

“I” Ashley looked to her brother, she reminded Julia of a lost puppy,  “...I do. It’s fun. And I’m great at it, as you can obviously see.”

The attempts at boosting fell flat, but Julia still smiled. 

This was definitely the farthest she had ever gotten with Ashley.

Julia accommodated her posture on the tiny bed, shifting just that little bit closer to Ashley's side.

“I like how the crayons look!” And it was true “Do you also use different things?” Julia didn't know much about art, but she could at least try to be earnest, with what little she did understand.

“Auhmm” Ashley looked to the side “I use these things made out of what the pencil tips are made of, and I erase around them-”

“You are so bad at explaining. I'm just gonna show it to Julia” Andrew said, standing up from his bed.

And all of sudden, she was getting a run down of almost -There were some older drawings Andrew didn't want her to see, for some reason- all of Ashley's drawings. 

And time moved by so quickly. 

They sat together on Andrew's tidy bed, which somehow kept getting messier and messier with each hour passed, and at some point it turned into 2AM, and Julia didn't even know how she had felt so welcomed, to spend an entire evening and night at their place.

She looked at Andrew, and for once, she felt confident enough to guess something about him; In this case, that he definitely did not want to walk her back home at 2AM.

Julia turned to Ashley by her left “I remember” She began quietly, Julia felt like she was confessing a secret “That when you drew this you invited me to a sleepover with you, and I said no. Could I take it back now?”

“Now? 12 years later?” Ashley almost looked impressed.

“Yes. Tonight, actually.”

Ashley and Andrew shared a look. Julia arrived at the conclusion, that she would never know anybody who could read her mind like that.

Then Ashley turned her focus back to her.

“...”

“Yeah”

She smiled.

Julia shared a furtive smile with Andrew too.

“Lucky you, Andrew” Ashley said “You won't have to walk her back home at 2 in the morning, and get jumped by a drunk guy in the middle of the street.”

Andrew stretched like a relaxed cat “Lucky me indeed, Ashley.”

Somehow, the atmosphere didn't feel so tense anymore, and Julia felt like her head was finally above water level for the first time in her life. 

They only fell asleep after 6AM, and Julia only got back to her place until after 2PM.

Julia felt entirely self-satisfied. 

Maybe this holiday wasn't so bad after all.

[trickstersaint]

Screaminggg saint person I just read your apple taste in the throat as sin poem and I love it so I have a childhood experience to share bc I think the vague themes will make you writhe

So! Ever since I was a child I thought The Fruit™ was a fig! And I felt probably the same way you did whenever you ate an apple as when i ate fig newton's bc of this at like 6🤷 tasty but also [grows up in the church].

Anyway, that one lil story in the bible with the fig tree where jesus is having a very human moment and got caught in 4k withering the tree out of hanger then covered his ass with bravado+temple talk had stuck with little me from this, so to ramble: the life and death that goes into a figs growth and how even in paradise there was hunger, how it exists even among the divine, and that you have to give yourself whole to it like a fig wasp (it will kill you in the end) (or do you choose to die for it) (was there ever really a choice or is it nature to find something bigger than yourself and sacrifice your life for it) and that religion only lives on bc we do but who is to separate the temple from the tree thats barren that will outlast us like a legacy to all we could've been if not withered before its fruiting season? And what of the tiny wasps when the time comes to pollinate but the tree is gone, what of the next generation that burrowed their way out of the fig/divine and what life cycle is there to choose after? Were you born into it all or is it only where your mother died? andandand?? Screams I hope this gives you inspo for more writing or that you at least enjoyed the vibes of me being insane abt figs and what it means to take of the forbidden fruit and the withering of the fig tree lol

Also princess Diana and Gerard as a saint has been rattling around in my brain and I'm going nuts plz elaborate on what they mean to you I'm dying to hear ur thoughts in depth on that

my friend is also really into the fig tree story... beginning to think that raised-christian people only have a few preset bible concepts that they come preloaded with obsessions around. the two genders... fig and apple... anyway saying that even in paradise there was hunger is crazy. i need to write more about adam and eve they drive me insane. y'all ever think about this line from an article about adam and eve that i was reading for a research project a year ago and only posted on my main account where almost none of you guys would have seen it

she is trying desperately to encase herself within the divine framework... jack katz "The Social Psychology of Adam and Eve" save me. save me... anyway...

mmmm on princess diana and gerard way as saints. i find it interesting the way that people idolize her both as an icon of kindness and charity and also as a martyr; for the people who are really caught up in the image of her, i feel like it's absolutely as much about the fact that she died as it is about the good things that she did. not to say that people make her a christ figure lmao but if you REALLY wanted to get into it you could draw some parallels between the way that people talk about jesus interacting with the lepers and diana shaking the hand of someone with aids. and then to take this figure that you are idolizing for their selflessness and good works and to say that she was murdered is like. very evocative of martyrdom i think. these are not personal beliefs of mine i just find it very interesting to look at how people talk about her. personally i think the cultural obsessions around figures like princess diana and marilyn monroe, especially because they're women, are only ever going to grow parasocial and focus around the image or the idea of a person rather than fostering an interest in a historical figure. which. i mean. hey. me and saint sebastian for real :|

um. and then to further implicate myself in this social phenomenon. i am a freak about gerard way and i am not to be trusted around images of them in joan of arc armor or a cheerleader dress. liable to burst into tears or start speaking in tongues i think. i've been too transgender and too into my chemical romance for too long to be anything near normal about that particular person. seeing them in the joan of arc costume made me feel so crazyinsane about religion for so long that i sat down and wrote that first saints quiz. um. and you know actually i do have a poem about the way that it makes me feel so you can just go read that before i say something that's going to make me sound like i have a genuine religious fixation on that guy with like. a wife and kids. see also: trickstersaint poem "there's this feeling i get that i can't describe".

[all-pacas]

I know Cameron needed a trigger to act on her feelings for Chase. Do you think jealousy could've worked? Say he never does the Tuesday thing, gets close to another girl, and is falling for her. She's about to lose this safety net that she had for three years. Is it enough to make Cameron panic?

Honestly, I think the opposite would happen.

Cameron kind of has a martyr complex. She likes fixing people, helping the broken and sad, but she also likes being the one doing the fixing. It isn't enough to diagnose a girl with lung cancer, she has to be there for her. Her husband "had no one" to mourn him, so Cameron had to marry him. I don't think she enjoys suffering or didn't love her husband, but there's a part of her that does kind of… keep doing this to herself. She keeps setting herself up for pain, whether as penance or intentionally or out of some slightly twisted view of morality, that people should be hurt and mourn and suffer and dammit, if no one else is going to do it!

At the same time, it's also kind of a defensive/protection thing. Foreman and eventually Chase both call her out on this with her first marriage: yes, she loved him, but she knew going in it was going to end. She loved him and grieved, but she never had to deal with the long term: the sacrifices you made were at the height of your love for him, Foreman says in S3: Chase mocks her in S6 with the idea that if he'd been dying, she would have been happier. Cameron likes having an escape route, she likes being in control. In S5, she finds out Chase wants to propose and panics and ends up subconsciously pushing him to dump her: I don't think she did want to break up with him (and she quickly begs for him to take her back), but she did, as House points out, kind of force him to do so. Because that's easier. It's an escape, and it's not her fault if he does it. It's scary to not know when things end. She holds herself back. She prepares for the end from the beginning. Even the ridiculousness of the sperm plot comes down to this: Cameron isn't really planning to have a dead man's baby, but she is afraid that something will happen to her and Chase, and feels like she needs a backup plan. She and House talk about it in Both Sides Now:

CAMERON: It’s not wrong to prepare for bad things to happen even if you don’t expect them to. I don’t expect my condo to burn down, but I have fire insurance. HOUSE: If your condo rules don’t let you buy insurance, would you go homeless?

To which Cameron decides — and tells a confused Chase — that she doesn't want to be homeless. She decides to destroy the sperm, or, in other words, to try and put her trust in this and not in her escape route.

So going all the way back to the S3 jealousy idea: Ehh, maybe…? The thing is, if Chase had met a new love interest at that time, I think Cameron might have been relieved. It's a sign! She was right to deny her feelings, because look at what happened: he found someone else, there was never a future for the two of them, once again denying herself what she wants was the smart and rational decision. I think she probably would be a bit jealous — we see that the second she meets Stacy she's all over that, trying to figure out what Stacy is like, what she and House were like, and how Cameron compares — but I don't think she'd be jealous enough to do anything, because Cameron was already denying her feelings and denying Chase, and this would just prove her right. And now she gets to be miserable and tell herself she did the right thing rejecting him, and that's where Cameron thrives.

I think there probably are some specific circumstances that would push Cameron into acting on her feelings — Chase getting fired and her realizing she might not ever see him again, as an example. And as much as the it's Tuesday thing was never gonna win Cameron over, it did serve a purpose — showing Chase hadn't moved on or given up either. Had he in any real way seemed to have moved on, I think that would have been the end of it. Very right place/right time. Or, to quote @eliotquillon, swap out "right" and "wrong" however you'd like.

[chittychittyyangyang]

“Knowing what it is to feel loved…”

So, I want to preface this by saying some of this is from my own personal experience as well as just kind of what I know from adopted people in general. While not outright stated, Summer Rose basically did adopt her, and the fact he was so young when Summer died, and she found out about Raven are both relevant. Because I feel like if Yang truly knew what it was like to feel loved on a deep, visceral level, she wouldn’t put herself in a position to always sacrifice herself for others. She wouldn’t martyr herself and have someone else feel the pain she has felt by leaving them behind.

The thing is, I don't think people understand how unlovable you can feel when you are adopted. Our society, puts motherhood on such a pedestal (and RWBY not existing in a vacuum we can assume there too), that it is so easy for a child to internalize there is something inherently unlovable about them that would make their own mother give them up. And you can just learn that as a kid even under ideal circumstances where others try to make you feel loved. Had Summer not left, Yang could have possibly lived a happy life without ever knowing Raven didn’t want her. But that’s not what happened. She had two mothers leave her and was left with a dad unable to take care of her and having to step up for her sister. No one ever stays, and Yang has to be the one to pick up the pieces.

When Beacon fell, Blake ran, Weiss’s father came and took her back to Atlas, and Ruby went off on her mission. Her own father says in ear shot he can’t go looking for Ruby because he has “to look after other things” while looking over to Yang’s room. As if she’s in the way of the daughter he really cares about because he out right states she reminds him of Raven. Speaking of, imagine growing up knowing your dad almost resents you for reminding him of the mother who left you, who you’ve been trying desperately to find, only to find out your father knew where she was and was intentionally keeping that information from you. Yang’s feelings of being unloved are so directly tied to being Raven’s daughter, and being forced into a parental role way before she should have been. I also mentioned with Blake in another post, that she did everything “right” with Blake, and she still left without even saying anything. “What if I needed her here for me?” Blake leaving her is just further proof that she must inherently be unlovable and not enough to stick around for.

Yang’s feelings seem so secondary to her that she finally finds Raven to help find Ruby. Yang gets to confront a woman who is nothing like the woman Tai eventually told her about, just for Raven to deflect and not answer the question of why she left. Yang’s feelings truly don’t matter right now because right now this is about getting to Ruby. Never mind, finding her trying to find Raven was how we were introduced to her character (Yellow Trailer). When Yang gets to confront her again, no one around, call Raven out on her shit, all but beg Raven to pick her over power and safety. Beg Raven to be a mother to her and love her, and Raven can’t. We, the audience, can see that Raven is conflicted and loves Yang as much as she can (which Yang can’t see because her back is to her), but it’s truly not good enough. It’s not what Yang needs. Raven might have been able to come up with an excuse before for leaving Yang, but now Raven is actively not picking to her face. Because in the end no one picks Yang.

But Blake did. Blake picked her all the way back in the Emerald Forest, and as far as we know Yang doesn’t know that. We don’t know if Yang knows that Blake ran to keep her safe. Yang doesn’t know Blake wanted her to hate her to further keep her safe. Everything Blake did was for Yang, but Yang doesn’t know that. Yang doesn’t know Blake is doing so well now because of Yang being in her life. Blake is in a perfect position to be there for Yang now and help Yang feel loved. Blake has gone through her journey and processing, and she’s seen and been demonstrated loved through her parents. We can only truly understand love when it’s been demonstrated for us. Yang has never had that, and Blake can be there to focus on her needs and show her what a good partner is like, because she knows what a bad one can be. Blake can take the lead and allow her to feel love in a way neither of them has felt before. It won’t completely fix Yang’s feelings of abandonment, but Blake can be there to help her hold that feeling so it’s not such a heavy burden.

[memento-morri-writes]

hello haply sts! is there a character dynamic you've really been thinking about lately? why?

HELLO!!! Thanks for the ask!

I mean, there's dozens of character dynamics I've been thinking about, but mostly for my dnd characters.

However, one that I've been playing with in my mind for a while is the two main characters from divinity wip. The protagonist is a (trans) woman who is slowly being turned into a god against her will, complete with divine powers that are destroying her (mortal) body.

The deuteragonist is her best friend and qpr partner who is hopelessly devoted to her. They basically end up becoming her first paladin, but it begs the question "is there any future for a mortal who loves a god?"

The woman-who-is-becoming-a-god wants to tell her friend to leave, so they don't have to see her losing her humanity, slowly dying in all the ways that matter. But she also is so afraid of being alone that she can't bring herself to ask. And it wouldn't matter anyways, bc her friend would never leave her, not in heaven or hell or anywhere in between. And yes, this is a tragedy, so... we'll see how that ends up for them. :)) (god/paladin, god/martyr tragic (platonic) love story anyone?)

The dynamics that really fuck me up though are my boy Rook and his two mentors never ever fails to fuck me up. Also Carrion and his mentor, and one of his party members.

[putting this under the cut bc as always when I talk about these two it got ridiculously long.]

Rook's first mentor, Zara, was the first person to ever truly be kind to him. She was the captain of the pirate ship he sailed on for 6 years. Because of how important she was to him, both as a figure of authority and as a mentor, and also just as a good influence in his life, Rook ended up kind of idolizing her. And after being trapped aboard the Sea Snake for two years, a lot of mental escapism and maladaptive daydreaming made that idolization even stronger. So at this point she's practically a god in his eyes, and he would forgive her for anything. He gets to see her again in a few sessions for the first time in 3 years, and I'm not kidding when I say that this is going to be the most important session I will ever play as him, I think. He never got to say goodbye to her the first time, and she's been feeling guilty as fuck over him getting captured, but she never came to rescue him. oh it's gonna be so good. I can't imagine that his idolization and his willingness to forgive her for anything and do anything for her will help with the guilt she's feeling...

And then there's Sigmar, Rook's second mentor, who he met during the campaign. He taught Rook some fun combat moves, and promised to help Rook defeat Captain Wolf (the vengeful pirate captain who was kidnapped him twice now). Sigmar told the party bard while Rook was sleeping that if he had been in Zara's position, he would have killed Captain Wolf and burned her ship to the ground to get Rook back, or died trying. He also was helping Rook hide his demon curse from the party. HOWEVER, he turned out to actually be a corpse being controlled and spoken through by the BBEG of the whole campaign, and the party ripped said corpse to pieces in front of Rook's eyes. Oh, and the wizard had known the whole time and just let Rook continue to get closer to this man. (His reasoning was "if he's obsessed with Rook, that means his people can't be hurting us.")

And the most insane part is that he really truly did love Rook, as much as he's capable of that. He ignored his own daughter in favor of Rook, and when Rook searched his house after we killed his controlled body, he found a book where Sigmar had been taking notes on how to be a mentor to him, using a fictional character as a guide. And now someday Rook is going to have to face him again, this time in his real body, and they're going to have to hurt each other, but both of them are going to have a hard time doing it, and it just makes me-- AGH.

The rest of the party didn't like him in or out of character, but to me out of character he was everything I could ever want handed to me on a silver platter even before I knew he was actually a literal war criminal. (I still love him, though. It's kind of a problem, actually.)

My shifter barbarian, Carrion, also has some crazy character dynamics going on. He used to be a paladin, and while he was in the Order, he had a mentor and kinda-sorta father figure named Theodore. However, bc of Carrion's monstrous transformations as the result of coming into contact with Delirium (essentially super radioactive magic crystals), the paladins chained Carrion up and left him behind. The last thing Theodore said to him was "Soon you'll be nothing but Carrion" and that's how he got his name, bc he survived and he plans to kill Theodore and tell him that "I may be Carrion, but I am not nothing."

BUT the sad part is that Theodore was so regretful and sad and fucked up over leaving Carrion behind, over failing him, that he literally lost his divine magic for years. And I'm just in agony waiting for when Carrion sees him again, because Theodore doesn't even know that the boy he knew as Reverence is still alive, let alone that he's planning on killing him.

Also, there's the party's warlock, Valeska, who completely and utterly disarmed Carrion by reacting with nothing but pure and naked curiosity upon finding out about his corruption and transformations. No fear, disgust, not even pity. And at the end of the first session, she asked if he was afraid of his transformations, and he said no, he's more afraid of other people's reactions to his transformations. And she said "I think you're lying. Why else would you call yourself a monster?" and Carrion hesitated and then said "Because no one has ever called me anything different." She didn't respond right away so he panicked and thought he had said to much so he was like "go to sleep" and then Valeska said "Carrion?" and he was like "What do you want, Valeska?" and she said "Nothing. Just saying your name. See? I called you something other than a monster."

WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED... The irony is, ofc, the backstory behind his name, but she didn't know it in or out of character, and he wouldn't go by the name if he hadn't found some measure of power in it. But holy SHIT, this whole man's world has been unbalanced. And when he finds out the truth about Theodore... it's going to fall apart completely. And I can't fucking wait.

[pxper-cranes]

Simon Petrikov and the Mortifying Ordeal of no longer being the Ice King

Something something about how Simon Petrikov is forced to live in a world where he inherently doesn’t fit in because of his inability to connect to the nature of Ooo and everyone that lives there. When faced with the chance of reconnecting the ‘madness’ to fit in and unburden himself again of all his complex emotions as Simon, he still is at a crossroads because of all the sacrifices and struggles it took to become himself again after Betty lost herself to save him. He doesn’t want to make her sacrifices meaningless, and he’s constantly forced to face what *she’d* think. Simon cant become Ice King without forsaking the him that she fought tooth and nail for, but if he honours her sacrifice to being him back, he has to remain in the sort of limbo that he’s in right now, being kind of but not quite a part of Ooo, literally an antique of a bygone era, and not part of that madness.

Helping Fiona and Cake then in a way offers him a kind of easy out of his suffering by allowing him to make a martyr of himself. Through sacrificing his mind and becoming Ice King he can save them and their world and make it better in Fiona’s eyes, and just has to push through the no doubt traumatising ordeal of facing the mental prison of being Ice King again, which has terribly affected how he is now. He’s been told to cherish his identity as Simon Petrikov after losing the crown, but now he has no real place in the world. By helping Fiona and Cake he gets to lose himself again, and by association all the terrible loneliness and isolation as well as all his grief about Betty, and this way he doest have to suffer the consequences. He probably believes its a selfless sacrifice but it’s inherently not to all the people who he would be leaving behind, everyone who would lose him, some for a second time.

Even still he has a level of disconnect with those people in his life. I’d suspect he cant really relate to those people that easily after going through such a big change, and even those who saw the Simon through the Ice king the Simon that exists now isn’t the same as the one before the crown. Current Simon is constantly holding the baggage of having been the Ice King, and through the most recent episodes of Fiona and Cake he’s being forced to see himself through those same twisted lenses over and over through each universe they travel to. There cannot be a Simon Petrikov without the burden of knowing that he was the Ice King and still feeling the effects that has had on him and those around him.

And of course he brings up the ship of Theseus That’s literally about taking everything that made something up originally, replacing it and then testing to see how much of the original figment still remains intact. Like how much of its original integrity is still remaining after it’s lost all of it’s pieces. In a way, Simon’s gone through that thrice now; firstly, the loss of himself and being condemned to being Ice King, then Betty’s sacrifice and finally the realisation of his dissociation from Ooo after becoming Simon again.

He has now become intrinsically separated from other people of Ooo by nature like even other humans like Finn or the island people, who have lived their entire life in this kind of world, and so its easier for them to fit in, but Simon is from before Ooo, before the madness. At least as Ice King he can feel like he is a part of the world, but as Simon, he’s lonely in a way that he could never have been before because now he knows that there is other ways to perceive and experience the world and people around him, but he’s fundamentally unable to tap into it like he could before. But, if he chooses that he’s unable to revel in it because he would inevitably lose himself to the crown all over again. Its a catch 22. If he becomes Ice King again, he reintegrates as part of Ooo and the madness, but Simon can’t be in control of that or reap the benefits, or he can stay as he is, lonely and detached and chained with grief for both Betty and the men he has been, *both of them*.

IDK my guess is that the end of the show will have Simon try to sacrifice himself to make Fiona’s world magical again by becoming Simon but she’ll convince him not to because she’s come to accept the normality of her old life and Simon is forced to try and accept himself and realise his support systems through Ooo and learn to find himself again or something idk I’m not in the writers room.

So sorry about all of this being so long and unedited I just watched the new episodes and started rambling into the microphone so I wouldn’t forget my ideas. Sorry for the long sentences and bad grammar and how I no doubt kept repeating my points over and over. Idk I just have a lot of thoughts about this little guy and his situations.

[ilynpilled]

Hey! So I'm from the Jaime/Lannister side of the fandom but wanted to ask your opinion on where you think GRRM is going with Dany. I don't mean spell out her endgame or anything, but what messages do you think he is trying to impart through her character? I see so much Dark!Dany! theory shaped by the show that has just never really resonated with how I read her in the books. I see her more as a figure who will try to be Queen of Westeros, but will ultimately end up abdicating or even sacrificing herself during the LN because finding "home" is more important to her than ruling... but that is not based on much other than gut feeling. What do you think?

yeah idrgaf about the show tbh. i think it fundamentally misunderstood key themes that the books were exploring. corrupted/mad dany feels so deeply cynical to me. people have been reiterating this: she is a subversive messiah figure & she is given a narrative that is so often reserved for the “male hero”. the gender commentary in that would fall flat on its face to me if she becomes mad fascist female ruler like bffr. yeah, she will get darker come winds, like everyone else she will have to make choices and will face moral dilemmas because she is resolved to continue combatting the institution of slavery. she knows she will not be able to do it without dirtying her hands in some way. i think grrm is gonna explore the concept of necessary force and the question of when it is more moral to take a stand and draw blood: is it justified to cut off and burn something at the root, especially if the alternative is allowing the cancer to exist and continue to spread? the institution of slavery is a wound that cannot just be covered up with a bandaid. like this is a very important aspect of abolition. the only way i can see the idea of “madness” be relevant is in a more subversive john brown paralleling way with how people thought that man was insane bc he wanted to end slavery lmfao. if terrible people think you are mad for attempting to make radical changes that harm them that is a good sign. also would hate her becoming an aerys parallel like in the show like that is cringe bio essentialism territory, again, antithetical to the themes prevalent in these books. d&d’s #subversive #dark #unexpected ending was unironically the equivalent of:

do not want her ‘idealism’ to be completely robbed from her at any point either really. im not opposed to tragedy but i dont think id vibe with it being too cynical in this instance. this series is about earned romanticism. its heroes are the dreamers yada yada. it is about a dream of spring. i always thought she represented hope in some way. she is gonna be the flame during TLN, literally and metaphorically imo. i do think there are thematic and more abstract aspects to lightbringer, like yeah humanity uniting over an ideal for a better future & it can be about hope or whatever, which is why multiple characters have some kind of flaming sword foreshadowing, but a main one is gonna be dany and her dragons. like on top of all the pretty overt foreshadowing, like let us think about the logistics here, what is gonna do more damage to the others?? three magic nukes or some convenient dues ex machina magical flaming toothpick we forge out of murdering a woman? i also do not want to instantly write her off as a doomed martyr either though. i see the appeal in the tragedy of the kind girl who wanted a home dying without ever getting to live in the one she created but still leaving it for millions upon millions of people present and future… but also idk i am just not crazy about martyrdom as a trope unless it is executed very well. i like when characters survive for a cause rather than die for it. dany always kept persevering, not just for herself, but others: her children and her people, so i like when altruism is framed in that way. also i might be a little bitter if she is the only one to die from the new generation or whatever like in the show

[cityandking]

1, 12, 14, 18 for dai, minah and vesper!

thank you my dear!! // questions about creating your ocs

1. What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)? 

DAI — theme. I knew I wanted to play a religious character and I knew there was a very Present religious order in airedon that worshiped the sky gods, so he was initially born out of the concept of this really grounded, rooted, earth-adjacent character looking up at the sun and the sky and loving it and striving towards it. everything else kind of slotted into place from there. MINAH — backstory. it helped that we got a whole bunch of campaign lore (plus just, y'know, there's so much DA lore to work with). I always knew she was gonna be a bit unscrupulous and dissembling and kind of went from there. also, fun fact! she was originally gonna be a he VESPER — name. vesper was born out of the ashes (well, a long period of tweaking and re-consideration) of my first inquisition playthrough, so in a lot of ways I had everything set out in broad strokes, but it wasn't until I had a new name that I really began building a new (and better imo) character.

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)? 

ok well besides the fact that I can't draw them the way I wish I could draw them...

DAI — his voice is a little stiff and he doesn't do joy well. every now and then I'll have a thought about something (usually a dairef thing) and I just can't pin him down enough to get into it. this happens less when we're playing, but every now and then he just stalls out. MINAH — the secrets she (and I) must keep. also artistic skill rip (I just want to design warden armor) VESPER — her color palette honestly isn't super conducive to edits. also I started writing her ages ago and sometimes it's hard to get back to her voice; I feel like I use to write her much more easily

14. If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be? 

DAI — first, he's upright in all things: morals, posture, obligation, kindness, vows. everything about him should feel like it's standing solid and straight-backed, like it could take a blow and stay standing. second, beneath all that honor and stalwart truth and hope is a deep well of wryness that he can draw from ad infinitum. it's where the bitchiness comes from MINAH — first, her gut instinct when talking about herself is always to lie or deflect, even when it's completely innocuous. there's usually at least one layer between what she says and what the truth is, even if the lie is only in the presentation or the performance. second, her loyalty goes deeper than she'll admit—she's fond of people and bonds easily, even though she tries to keep them at a comfortable arm's length VESPER — first, she is always ready to set herself on fire rather than see anyone else burn or freeze. she's got a martyr complex and a deep well of determination and the two don't play well together. second, she is so tired. she is so so tired. let her nap

18. What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC? 

DAI — oh lordy. most recent? it's either how hungry he is to know more about his family or how hungry he is to feel solid and real. I made a post a while back about 'how bloody is your OC' and looking back at that I think part of dai's problem in the astral sea is that he hasn't had a chance to get bloody—fighting himself was a good way to get into the meat of things (literally), and the god baby was better because it was tangible change. I think. I'm still trying to get a read on his mental state; he eludes me sometimes MINAH — honestly the cold-blooded mage murder was a surprise to me too VESPER — vesp has been so solid for so long idk what recent thing I've discovered about her. I'm sure I'll have new thoughts and feelings once veilguard drops