#or have just come there to live but come from a more traditional region

[kingwaino]

i have done...an absolute deep dive into blues and folk music tonight. it was 100% one of those blink and three hours have passed type of deals. worth it though.

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Full sketchbook page of younger Constant doodles. I am rotating this OC like never before

[fr0stf4ll]

Flavours of Prythian

Coming from that request

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; Y/N, a talented restaurateur’s life is turned upside down when she forms an unexpected bond with Azriel, the mysterious Spymaster of the Night Court. Befriending Elain, who confides in her about a male she’s trying to win over, she eagerly helps her new friend — only to discover the male is none other than Azriel. When the bond between her and Azriel snaps at first touch, she’s torn between loyalty to Elain and the undeniable connection she shares with the shadowy warrior.

word count ; 7.8k

warning; //

notes; Yoo everyone, here is my first one shot ! Thank you again for the request<333 Should I do a more general taglist so that you guys can be permanently on it. Enjoy it, see you <3

---

Prythian was a land of many wonders, from the towering peaks of the Illyrian mountains to the lush, rolling hills of the Spring Court. But for you, the true magic of the land was found in its kitchens, markets, and the rich flavors that each court had to offer.

You had always been drawn to the culinary arts, even as a child. Your curiosity led you to travel across the courts, tasting the distinct dishes of each region, learning from the most skilled chefs, and uncovering the hidden culinary gems that most would overlook. You spent years journeying from the Day Court, where spices danced like sunlight on the tongue, to the Winter Court, where hearty stews and warm bread were a staple against the biting cold. In the Night Court, you discovered the delicate balance of flavors that mirrored the starlit skies above, and in the Summer Court, you indulged in the rich, vibrant tastes that seemed to capture the very essence of the sun-drenched beaches.

Your travels weren’t just about satisfying your own cravings; they were a quest to bring the best of Prythian’s diverse cuisines to others. And so, you did the impossible—you opened a series of restaurants, each one in a different court, each one a testament to the culinary traditions you had learned and made your own. Your establishments became a haven for those seeking not only a good meal but an experience, a journey through Prythian’s tastes and textures without ever leaving their seat.

Your flagship restaurant, nestled in the heart of Velaris, was particularly special. It was here, in the City of Starlight, that you combined the flavors of all the courts into a menu that was as varied and enchanting as Prythian itself. Word quickly spread of the remarkable dishes served within, and soon, it wasn’t just the citizens of Velaris who came to dine—High Fae from every court sought out your creations.

One such evening, as you oversaw the final preparations for the dinner service, the door to your restaurant swung open, and in walked a familiar face—Elain Archeron. Elain had been wandering through Velaris, taking in the beauty of the city, when the warm, inviting aroma from your restaurant had drawn her in.

Elain was known for her gentle nature, her love of gardening, and her keen eye for beauty in all things. But tonight, she was here for something different—a new experience, a chance to explore another form of beauty through the culinary delights that had been whispered about throughout the city.

As Elain took her seat near a window overlooking the Sidra, she immediately felt at ease. There was a sense of comfort and warmth in the restaurant, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself walking over to greet her. She looked up with a warm smile, her eyes bright with curiosity and a touch of shyness.

“Welcome,” you said, your own smile reflecting her warmth. “I’m Y/N, the owner and chef here. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Elain’s smile widened, and she nodded appreciatively. “I’ve heard so much about this place, I just had to come see for myself. The aromas alone are worth the visit.”

You chuckled, feeling an instant connection with her. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll make sure the food lives up to the expectations.”

As the evening went on, you found yourself returning to Elain’s table more than once, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. You talked about your travels, the different courts you had visited, and the inspiration behind some of the dishes on the menu. Elain, in turn, shared stories of her own—of her love for gardening, the peace she found in the quiet moments spent among the flowers, and her growing appreciation for the little joys in life, like a perfectly prepared meal.

There was something comforting in the way you both connected, as if you had known each other for much longer than just one evening. By the time dessert arrived—a delicate pastry inspired by the flavors of the Summer Court—you and Elain were chatting like old friends, the conversation punctuated by shared laughter and the occasional appreciative hum as she tasted each new dish.

As the night drew to a close, Elain hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’d love to come back,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

You smiled, genuinely pleased by the idea. “I’d like that. You’re welcome anytime, Elain.”

Elain quickly became a regular fixture at your restaurant, her visits growing more frequent as the two of you bonded over shared stories, laughter, and the occasional glass of wine. It wasn’t long before your casual conversations began to take on a more personal tone, with Elain confiding in you about her life, her hopes, and her dreams.

One evening, after the dinner rush had died down and the restaurant had settled into a peaceful hum, Elain arrived with a particular glint in her eye. You noticed it the moment she walked in, her steps lighter, her smile brighter. She took her usual seat by the window, and you didn’t waste any time joining her, a knowing smile on your face.

“Alright, Elain,” you said, sitting down across from her. “You’re glowing tonight. What’s going on?”

Elain blushed, her hands fluttering nervously in her lap. “It’s nothing, really… Well, maybe it’s something. I don’t know.”

You leaned in closer, eyes wide with curiosity. “Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that. Spill!”

She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before finally giving in. “There’s… this male,” she began, her voice soft but filled with excitement. “I’ve been trying to get his attention for a while now, and I think… I think it might actually be working.”

You couldn’t help but squeal in delight, clapping your hands together. “Elain! This is amazing! Tell me everything—who is he? How did it start? What’s he like?”

Elain giggled at your enthusiasm, her own excitement bubbling to the surface as she began to share the details. “He’s… well, he’s different. Reserved, I guess you could say. But there’s something about him that just draws me in. He’s kind, in his own way, and he has this quiet strength that I really admire.”

You listened intently, hanging on her every word as she described this mysterious male who had captured her attention. It was clear that she was smitten, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement for her.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, your mind already racing with ideas. “How are you going to win him over?”

Elain smiled shyly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “Well, I thought… maybe I could start by cooking for him. You know, something simple but special. He loves good food, and I think it might help him see… well, see me.”

You practically jumped out of your seat with excitement. “Elain, that’s perfect! And you’re in the right place—I can help you with recipes, tips, anything you need. We’ll make sure this meal is unforgettable.”

Her eyes lit up with gratitude. “Really? You’d help me?”

“Of course!” you replied, beaming. “This is what friends are for. And besides, I love a good love story. We’ll make sure he can’t resist you after this.”

From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. Elain would visit the restaurant every few days, sometimes to try out a new dish, other times just to chat and share the latest developments in her budding romance. The more she talked about this male, the more you could see how deeply she cared for him, and it made you all the more determined to help her succeed.

You spent hours in the kitchen together, experimenting with different ingredients and techniques, crafting meals that were not only delicious but also filled with meaning. Elain would watch you work, her eyes wide with admiration as you explained the significance of each spice, each flavor, and how it could be used to convey emotion.

“There’s a language in food,” you told her one afternoon as you kneaded dough for a loaf of bread. “Every dish tells a story. When you cook for someone, you’re sharing a part of yourself with them. It’s intimate, in a way.”

Elain nodded thoughtfully, her hands busy chopping herbs for the soup you were preparing. “I never thought of it like that, but it makes sense. I want him to know how I feel, even if I can’t always find the words.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for your friend. “Then we’ll make sure every bite he takes is filled with love.”

As the days turned into weeks, Elain’s visits became a highlight of your day. She would burst through the door, her eyes sparkling as she recounted her latest interactions with the male who had stolen her heart. You would listen with rapt attention, offering advice and encouragement, celebrating every small victory and reassuring her during moments of doubt.

“He loved the soup,” she told you one evening, her cheeks flushed with happiness. “He said it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. And I think… I think he’s starting to notice me.”

You grinned, feeling a surge of pride. “I told you, Elain. No one can resist good food, especially when it’s made with love.”

She laughed, her joy infectious. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve helped me so much.”

You waved off her gratitude with a smile. “Nonsense. You’re the one doing all the hard work. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

But the truth was, you had come to care deeply for Elain and her happiness. It wasn’t just about the food anymore—it was about seeing your friend find the love and connection she so deserved. And as she continued to come back, sharing her hopes and dreams, you couldn’t help but feel that you had found something special too.

Your friendship with Elain had become a source of joy and fulfillment, a reminder that sometimes, the most meaningful connections were forged in the simplest of moments—over a shared meal, a quiet conversation, or a burst of laughter that echoed through the night.

And so, as the seasons changed and the nights grew longer, you continued to help Elain in her quest to win over this mysterious male, knowing that whatever the outcome, you had found a true friend in her. A friend who had come into your life unexpectedly, but who had quickly become an irreplaceable part of it.

Weeks had passed since you and Elain had first started crafting meals together, each one a carefully planned step in her quest to win over the male who had captivated her heart. Every visit, every dish, brought a new story, a new glimmer of hope in her eyes. You were genuinely happy for her, thrilled to see her so full of life and excitement. So, when she asked if she could bring him to your restaurant for dinner, you couldn’t have been more supportive.

“Of course, Elain!” you’d said, flashing her an encouraging smile. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect. It’ll be a night he won’t forget.”

You’d spent the entire day preparing, selecting only the finest ingredients and crafting a menu that would showcase the very best of what your restaurant had to offer. You wanted this night to be special for her—special for them. You had no idea how special it would become, for reasons you never could have imagined.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city of Velaris in a warm, golden glow, Elain arrived at the restaurant with a male by her side. You couldn’t quite make out his features at first, but the way she clung to his arm, her eyes bright with anticipation, told you all you needed to know. This was the one.

As they stepped into the softly lit dining room, you finally got a good look at him—Azriel, the shadowsinger of the Night Court. You had heard of him, of course, through whispers and stories, but nothing could have prepared you for the moment your eyes met his.

Elain beamed as she introduced the two of you, her voice filled with warmth and pride. “Azriel, this is Y/N, the wonderful chef I’ve been telling you about. And Y/N, this is Azriel.”

He extended his hand to you, his expression polite, reserved. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.

You reached out, intending to greet him with the same friendly courtesy you offered all your patrons. But the moment your hand touched his, something shifted in the air—a sudden, overwhelming rush of heat and energy that took your breath away. The bond snapped into place with such force that it nearly knocked you off your feet.

For a split second, the world around you faded, and all you could feel was the pull, the undeniable connection that tethered your soul to his. His eyes widened in shock, and you knew he felt it too—the bond, the realization that fate had just entwined your lives in a way neither of you had expected.

But as quickly as the bond formed, reality came crashing back down. Elain was standing there, her eyes full of hope, completely unaware of the storm that had just erupted inside you. She had no idea that the male she was so clearly infatuated with, the one she had been working so hard to win over, was now bound to you in a way that went beyond anything you could have ever imagined.

Panic surged through you. How could this happen? How could you possibly accept this bond when it would mean shattering the friendship you had built with Elain, when it would mean taking away the one thing she wanted so desperately?

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

With a forced smile, you quickly withdrew your hand from Azriel’s grasp, the warmth of the bond lingering like a phantom touch. “It’s nice to meet you too,” you managed to say, though your voice sounded hollow even to your own ears.

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you, confusion and something deeper flickering in his hazel eyes. But you couldn’t let yourself look too long, couldn’t let yourself feel what was brewing inside you. Not when Elain was standing right there, her happiness hanging in the balance.

“Please, take a seat,” you said, stepping back and motioning toward the table you had specially prepared for them. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

Elain smiled, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart, and took her seat. Azriel hesitated for just a moment before following suit, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes again. You couldn’t.

As the evening went on, you did your best to stay professional, to act as if nothing had changed. You brought out dish after dish, each one more exquisite than the last, all while ignoring the fire burning in your chest. Every time Azriel tried to catch your eye, every time he tried to speak to you, you found a reason to turn away, to focus on something—anything—else.

Elain chattered on, completely unaware of the tension building between you and Azriel. She complimented the food, praised your skills, and even mentioned how much Azriel seemed to be enjoying himself. And through it all, you kept up the facade, kept pretending as if the bond snapping into place hadn't turned your entire world upside down.

But it was getting harder. With every glance Azriel sent your way, with every quiet question he tried to ask you in passing, it felt like the invisible thread between you was pulling tighter, demanding to be acknowledged. Yet, you refused to give in.

As the night dragged on, the tension between you and Azriel grew unbearable. He could sense it—you knew he could—but Elain remained blissfully unaware, happily recounting the gossip from the latest happenings in Velaris, smiling every time she caught Azriel glancing her way.

Azriel's eyes kept drifting back to you. Not once, not twice, but every time you approached the table, as if he couldn’t stop himself. You could feel the weight of his gaze burning into you, the way his expression darkened each time you brushed past him without so much as a word. He knew you were avoiding him, and he didn’t like it.

When you brought out the final dish—an indulgent dessert meant to close the evening on a sweet note—Elain excused herself to step outside for a moment, leaving you alone with Azriel for the first time since the bond snapped.

You could feel his presence before you even turned around, the quiet intensity of his gaze. And as you set the plate down in front of him, you knew you couldn’t avoid this confrontation any longer.

“Y/N.” His voice was low, barely more than a murmur, but the way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. “We need to talk.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on the table in front of you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your voice cold and distant, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you.

Azriel leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “Don’t lie to me. You felt it too.”

The bond. He didn’t have to say the word for you to know what he meant. It was a truth that hung in the air between you, undeniable and impossible to ignore. And yet, you had to. You had to protect Elain, to protect your friendship, no matter the cost.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your heart aching with the effort it took to deny the pull you felt toward him.

Azriel’s expression darkened, his hand curling into a fist on the table. “Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t shut me out.”

But you couldn’t let him in. If you let him in, if you allowed yourself to even consider what the bond meant, you would be betraying Elain in the worst way possible. How could you even think about being with him when she had spent weeks confiding in you, trusting you with her feelings for him?

“No, Azriel.” You stepped back, your voice firmer this time. “I can’t.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Why? Because of Elain?”

You winced at the mention of her name, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on your chest. “She cares about you. A lot.”

Azriel's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Y/N, it’s not like that between Elain and me.”

But you shook your head, refusing to let yourself believe it. “It doesn’t matter. She’s my friend. I can’t—I won’t—do this to her.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick with tension, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. Azriel opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the sound of the door opening broke the silence.

Elain re-entered the dining room, a bright smile on her face as she made her way back to the table. “Sorry about that,” she said cheerfully, oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Azriel. “What did I miss?”

You forced a smile, masking the turmoil raging inside you. “Nothing,” you lied, your voice steady even though your heart was breaking. “Just making sure everything’s perfect.”

Elain beamed, clearly pleased with how the evening had gone. “It really has been perfect, Y/N. Thank you so much for everything.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally looked away, the tension in his jaw clear as he nodded in agreement. “Yes… thank you.”

You nodded once, offering them both a stiff smile before excusing yourself from the room, your chest tightening with every step you took away from them.

As you retreated to the quiet of the kitchen, your hands bracing against the counter, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. The bond had snapped. Azriel was your mate. And yet, you couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept it.

You had promised yourself you’d never hurt Elain. And if shutting down every advance Azriel made, if pushing away the one person the Cauldron had chosen for you was the only way to keep that promise, then that’s exactly what you would do.

Even if it tore you apart.

Back in the kitchen, you leaned heavily against the counter, your hands gripping the cold marble surface as you tried to regain your composure. The bond had snapped, and with it, any sense of stability you had managed to hold onto throughout the evening. The world felt off-kilter, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the brink.

One of your sous chefs, a sharp-eyed female who had worked with you since the restaurant’s inception, noticed your pallor. She set down the pan she was holding and approached you, concern evident in her eyes.

“Y/N,” she began cautiously, her voice gentle but probing, “are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You forced a nod, though you knew your expression wasn’t convincing. “I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice was shaky and unsteady.

She frowned, clearly not buying your response. Her eyes scanned your face, taking in the unusual paleness of your skin, the way your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the counter. “You don’t look fine. Do you need to sit down? Maybe get some air?”

You shook your head, trying to brush off her concern, but the weight of the bond pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. “No, I’ll be okay. It’s just… been a long night.”

She hesitated, still studying you closely, before glancing around the bustling kitchen. “But, Y/N,” she continued, her tone turning more inquisitive, “it’s strange. You always insist on preparing Miss Elain’s meals yourself, especially when she’s bringing a guest. But tonight, you didn’t even touch the preparation. You left it all to us.”

You froze at her words, the reality of what had happened sinking in even deeper. She was right—normally, you would have insisted on handling every detail of Elain’s meal, wanting to ensure that everything was perfect for your friend. But tonight, when it mattered most, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do it.

The truth was, the moment you realized Elain was bringing someone special, you couldn’t bring yourself to touch the ingredients. You had let the staff handle everything because deep down, some part of you knew something was about to change—something you weren’t ready to face.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You swallowed hard, trying to find some semblance of an explanation. “I just thought… maybe it was time to let you all handle it. You’re more than capable.”

She tilted her head slightly, her frown deepening as she searched your eyes. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

You nodded again, more firmly this time, even though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. “Yes, I’m sure. I trust all of you with the kitchen. You don’t need me hovering over every detail.”

She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she didn’t press the issue further. Instead, she offered a small, supportive smile. “Well, if you ever need a break, don’t hesitate to step out. We’ve got things under control here.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I appreciate it.”

With a final nod, she returned to her station, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the crushing weight of the bond you were trying so desperately to ignore.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to push away the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of Azriel’s eyes, the way they had widened in shock and recognition when the bond snapped into place. You couldn’t forget the warmth of his hand in yours, the way the world had seemed to narrow down to just the two of you in that fleeting, life-altering moment.

But Elain… you couldn’t do this to Elain. You couldn’t shatter her hopes, her dreams, just because of a bond you had never asked for. So, you did the only thing you could—you steeled yourself, pushed down the emotions threatening to break free, and vowed to keep your distance from Azriel, no matter how much it hurt.

You would be there for Elain, just as you always had been. You would help her win over the male she had been trying so hard to impress, even if it meant denying your own heart in the process.

Because that’s what friends did. They put each other first, no matter the cost.

And as you stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and clinking utensils, you made a silent promise to yourself: you would protect Elain’s happiness, even if it meant sacrificing your own.

—

Azriel sat in the sitting room of the townhouse, surrounded by the familiar faces of the inner circle, yet he felt completely out of place. The evening had been an unexpected whirlwind of emotions, leaving him reeling from the bond that had snapped so suddenly and without warning. He had come here to find solace, to clear his mind, but every thought seemed to spiral back to you—the way you had looked at him, the way you had recoiled after the bond had formed during dinner at your restaurant.

He couldn’t understand it. How could something so significant be brushed aside so easily? He had tried to reach out to you, to understand what was happening, but you had shut him down, leaving him to grapple with the weight of the bond on his own.

The others were chatting around him, the sound of their laughter and conversation filling the room, but it all felt distant, muffled. Azriel’s mind was too clouded to focus on anything they were saying. He was trapped in a loop, replaying the moment over and over in his head—the spark, the connection, the way your eyes had widened in recognition before you quickly masked it.

He was so lost in thought that he almost missed it when Rhysand mentioned your name.

“You know, Y/N’s restaurant is one of the best in Velaris,” Rhys was saying, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Feyre and I went there a few nights ago, and it was nothing short of incredible.”

Feyre nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up at the memory. “The food was amazing. Every dish was like a work of art. She really has a talent, doesn’t she?”

Mor, who was lounging on one of the couches, joined in with a grin. “That’s not even the half of it. Y/N’s got restaurants all over Prythian—one in each court, if you can believe it. She’s become a bit of a legend in the culinary world.”

Azriel’s heart sank further as they continued to praise you, each word driving the knife deeper into his chest. It wasn’t that he disagreed with them—he knew you were remarkable, talented, someone to be admired. But right now, every mention of your name was like salt in a wound that was already festering.

Cassian, who had been listening with a smirk on his face, finally spoke up, his tone playful. “Sounds like Az here missed out on one hell of a meal tonight. Maybe he’ll have to go back and get a taste of what everyone’s raving about.”

Azriel tensed, the comment hitting far too close to home. He knew Cassian was just joking, but the implication—the reminder of what had happened tonight—was too much to bear. Without a word, he pushed himself up from his chair, his movements abrupt enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“Az?” Feyre called out, concern lacing her voice as she watched him head for the door. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he muttered something about needing some air and quickly left the room, the weight of their gazes heavy on his back as he made his escape.

As the door closed behind him, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Everyone exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Azriel’s sudden departure.

“What’s gotten into him?” Rhysand wondered aloud, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Cassian, never one to let an opportunity for humor pass by, snorted and shook his head. “Probably just realized he’s been a brooding mess all night and couldn’t handle the idea of someone actually having a good time.”

Mor chuckled, though there was a trace of worry in her eyes. “Or maybe he just can’t handle the fact that Y/N’s cooking is so damn good, it knocked him off his game.”

Rhysand sighed, glancing toward the door Azriel had just walked through. “He’s been off since he got back tonight. Maybe something happened.”

Feyre bit her lip, her expression softening. “I hope he’s alright. He seemed… different.”

Cassian, ever the optimist, leaned back in his chair with a lazy grin. “He’ll be fine. Az is tougher than all of us combined. He just needs some time to brood in his room, and he’ll be back to his grumpy self in no time.”

The group shared a few more laughs at Azriel’s expense, but the concern in their eyes never fully faded. They all knew Azriel well enough to understand that when he withdrew like this, it meant something was seriously bothering him.

Azriel’s footsteps were heavy as he made his way to his room, the quiet of the hallway amplifying the thoughts swirling in his mind. As soon as he entered, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, closing his eyes as he tried to block out the noise, the chaos of emotions inside him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of your hand in his, the way the bond had snapped into place like it had always been there, waiting. The connection was undeniable, and yet… you had denied it. Denied him.

Why? The question gnawed at him, refusing to let him rest. He had seen the recognition in your eyes, the brief moment when you had felt it too. But then, you had shut down, shut him out as if the bond meant nothing.

It was more than just confusing—it was painful. Azriel had spent centuries in the shadows, watching from the sidelines as his friends found their mates, found love. He had accepted his place, accepted that perhaps it wasn’t meant for him. And then, in the span of a heartbeat, everything had changed. You had changed it.

And now… now he was left in this strange limbo, caught between the undeniable pull of the bond and the walls you had erected between you.

Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides as he fought the urge to storm back to your restaurant, to demand answers, to make you acknowledge what had happened. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t force you to accept the bond, couldn’t force you to feel something you clearly weren’t ready to face.

With a frustrated sigh, Azriel pushed off the door and crossed the room, heading to the window that overlooked Velaris. The city was peaceful, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, but his mind was anything but. He rested his forehead against the cool glass, his eyes scanning the distant lights of the city below.

“Why?” he whispered into the empty room, his voice tinged with a desperation he rarely allowed himself to feel. “Why won’t you let me in?”

But the night offered no answers, only the quiet whisper of the wind as it brushed against the windowpane.

—

The next day passed in a blur. You threw yourself into your work, letting the familiar rhythm of chopping, stirring, and plating distract you from the turmoil brewing inside. The restaurant had been busy, as always, with customers filling every table, their laughter and chatter echoing through the dining room. But despite the bustle, you couldn’t shake the heavy weight in your chest—the bond that you were trying so desperately to ignore.

When the last customer had left, you sent your staff home, insisting that you would handle the closing on your own. You needed the time alone, needed to clear your head without the distraction of others around. As the front door clicked shut behind the last of your employees, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

The kitchen was quiet now, save for the soft sound of the knife in your hand as you prepped ingredients for the next day. The rhythmic motion of slicing through vegetables was soothing, almost meditative. But as you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the tension still coiled tight in your chest.

You were focused on the task at hand, chopping carrots with practiced precision, when a voice cut through the silence, making you freeze in place.

“I bet you could be good with a sword with how you work that knife,” came the familiar, deep voice, tinged with a hint of amusement. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be those carrots.”

Your hand stilled mid-slice, the knife hovering just above the cutting board. You knew that voice all too well—Azriel.

Slowly, you turned to face him, finding him standing just inside the doorway to the kitchen, his expression guarded but his eyes full of determination. He had changed out of his usual leathers, dressed instead in a simple tunic and trousers, but there was no mistaking the intensity in his gaze.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension from the previous night hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. You could feel the bond thrumming faintly between you, a constant reminder of the connection you were trying so hard to deny.

But you knew why he was here. You had been avoiding him all day, refusing to even think about the conversation you knew was coming. But now, with the restaurant empty and the two of you alone, there was no escaping it.

You set the knife down on the counter, wiping your hands on a nearby towel as you steeled yourself for what was about to happen.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm as you faced Azriel. The tension in the room was almost palpable, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between you. You had been dreading this conversation, but there was no avoiding it now.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” you said, your voice firm, though you could hear the tremor in it. “We can’t do this, Azriel.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flashing in his eyes. “Why not? Y/N, you felt it too. The bond—it snapped into place. We can’t just ignore that.”

You shook your head, your heart aching at the look on his face. “I’m not ignoring it. But I can’t—I won’t act on it. Not when Elain… Not when she’s been trying so hard to win you over.”

Azriel’s eyes widened in realization, and he took a step closer to you, his expression softening as he reached out. “Y/N, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Elain wasn’t trying to win me over… not in the way you think.”

You hesitated, frowning as you tried to make sense of his words. “What do you mean? She’s been telling me everything, Azriel. How she’s been trying to get your attention, how much she cares about you… I can’t do that to her. I won’t be the one to hurt her like that.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated but determined to set things right. “Y/N, you don’t have the full story. Elain… she’s not interested in me like that. She’s been trying to make Lucien jealous.”

You blinked, taken aback by his words. “Lucien? But… he’s her mate. Why would she do that?”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening as he saw the confusion in your eyes. “Yes, he’s her mate. But they’ve been going through a rough patch lately. Lucien’s duties as emissary for the Night Court have kept him away, and Elain’s been feeling… neglected. She thought that by spending time with me, by pretending there was something more between us, she could get a reaction out of him. It was never about me, Y/N. It was always about Lucien.”

You felt your heart drop as the realization hit you. “So, you were just helping her as a friend?”

Azriel nodded again, his gaze steady as he took a step closer to you. “Exactly. I was only doing this to help her. I never had feelings for her in that way, and she knows that. We were just… playing a part to get Lucien’s attention.”

You swallowed hard, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. “She didn’t tell me any of this.”

“She probably didn’t want to worry you,” Azriel said gently. “Or maybe she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. But I promise you, Y/N, there’s nothing between Elain and me. There never was. She’s still trying to figure things out with Lucien, and I was just trying to help her.”

You looked away, your mind racing to process everything Azriel was telling you. You had been so sure, so convinced that you were protecting Elain by shutting Azriel out. But now, with this new information, everything felt uncertain, like the ground had shifted beneath your feet.

“Azriel, I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond. You had built up walls around your heart, walls meant to protect both you and Elain from the pain of betrayal. But now those walls were crumbling, leaving you vulnerable and confused.

Azriel took another step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. “Y/N, please. Don’t shut me out. Let’s talk about this—really talk. Give me a chance to show you that this bond isn’t something to be feared. It’s something that could be… everything.”

You stood there, trying to process everything Azriel had just told you. The confusion, the guilt, the realization that you had misunderstood everything—it all came crashing down at once. You looked away from Azriel, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to make sense of it all.

“Okay,” you finally muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Now I actually feel like a dumbass.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you cringed internally. But when you glanced back up at Azriel, you found him staring at you with wide eyes for a moment—before a warm, rich laugh escaped him. It was a sound you hadn’t expected, a sound that cut through the tension and made your own lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

Azriel shook his head, still chuckling softly. “You’re not a dumbass, Y/N. Just… someone who cares a lot about her friend.”

You let out a shaky breath, your shoulders relaxing slightly as the weight of the misunderstanding began to lift. But even with the air between you lightened, you couldn’t shake the lingering worry, the uncertainty of what this all meant.

“I just… I don’t know you that well,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, more hesitant. “And this bond… it’s a lot to take in. I was so worried about Elain’s feelings that I didn’t even stop to think about how I felt. About how to navigate this.”

Azriel’s expression softened further, and he took a careful step closer, making sure not to crowd you. “I understand. The bond is… overwhelming, especially when it comes out of nowhere. And I know we don’t know each other well yet, but that’s something we can work on. We don’t have to rush into anything, Y/N. We can take this one step at a time, if that’s what you need.”

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze fully for the first time since the bond had snapped. There was no pressure in his eyes, no demand—just a quiet patience that made your heart ache with a strange mix of relief and something else, something warmer.

“But… what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, your voice small, the fear you had been trying to suppress finally finding its way out. “What if I can’t be what you need?”

Azriel’s eyes softened even more, and he shook his head gently. “Y/N, you don’t have to be anything but yourself. The bond doesn’t demand perfection—it’s just a connection, a starting point. We figure the rest out together.”

You swallowed, feeling the sincerity in his words. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, but it was tempered now by something else—a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

“Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, but Azriel caught it nonetheless.

He smiled softly, his wings shifting slightly as if in relief. “Okay,” he echoed. “One step at a time.”

For a moment, you both stood there in the quiet of the kitchen, the bond humming faintly between you. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t without its complications, but it was something. And for the first time since the bond had snapped, you felt like maybe you could handle this—together.

Azriel extended his hand, not as a demand, but as an offer. “How about we start with something simple? A walk, maybe? Just to talk, get to know each other.”

You hesitated for a moment, the anxiety still lingering, but then you nodded slowly, reaching out to take his hand. His grip was warm, reassuring, and as his fingers closed around yours, you felt a little of that fear ease away.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “A walk sounds good.”

And as you both stepped out of the kitchen, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something worth taking a chance on.

[tofixtheshadows]

Hello, op! While I do find your reading of Kabru’s self sacrifice and how little he eats really good, im curious why you consider him the deuteragonist? He is a foil to the protagonist yes, but still a supporting character.

I think its pretty clear Marcille is the second most important character in DM, and her story has much more weight than Kabru’s.

Hello! I've mentioned this on my blog before, but I actually consider Marcille and Kabru to both be deuteragonists to Laios's protagonist. I just wasn't talking about Marcille in that post.

Technically this term is meant to be used in playwriting, and the Greek tradition at that, so I'm playing a little loosey goosey with semantics and my argument would sound different if I were writing an academic paper. But this is tumblr dot edu and I'm trying to get a point across on my little blog, and part of the idea of a deuteragonist is that they support the protagonist. "Secondary main character who has their own importance in the narrative while bolstering the protagonist" works well enough for my purposes.

I think Marcille and Kabru are both playing specific and complementary roles to Laios. Marcille is at his side, facilitating the A plot: namely, "save Falin", which requires Marcille's magic, and then Marcille's method of resurrection ropes Thistle in, so the continuation of "save Falin" necessitates confronting the Dungeon Lord and conquering the dungeon (the B plot).

Kabru only intersects with Laios, but he is tied from the beginning to the B plot- and with dragging basically everyone else into it. Actually, the fact that he brings in this extremely loaded B plot despite only having brief face time with the protagonist should be seen as significant. In a sense, Kabru represents the surface world and all its concerns.

Before I talk about that more, I want to continue with the complementary line of thinking and point out that Kabru and Marcille have very similar background motivations.

Laios wants to save his sister first and foremost, and it's only along the way that he starts to consider what he'd do with the responsibility of Dungeon Lord. Coming to the conclusion that he wants to create a home for disparate peoples to live in harmony has connective tissue to both Kabru and Marcille's desires.

Marcille is the only one in their party who starts out with a greater motivation other than saving Falin (Izutsumi is a special case, but she's ultimately along for the ride), one that she keeps hidden for a long time. Because she is a mage, and because she is driven by a very personal tragedy (my dad died; I am terrified of outliving everyone), she is looking for a miracle to bring the different races closer together.

Kabru comes from a background of personal tragedy as well, but it's also a far greater, more political tragedy than just the death of a parent. It is not a coincidence that Kabru is a brown boy from an exploited region that suffered despite and because of military intervention from a first-world power, nor that he was adopted by a white woman whose coddling/dehumanization of him represents the paternalistic oversight of these world powers.

Thus, Kabru's motivations are both personal and political: if they, the short-lived races, can finally access the secrets of the dungeons, then not only can they have agency in stopping tragedies like Utaya's, but it will also give them a greater power of self-determination.

Marcille and Kabru have both correctly identified and set themselves against a problem that is greater than saving the life of one girl, greater even than sealing this one dungeon.

Despite Marcille's hopes, there is no grand magic solution to this. Only small, slow, backbreaking, ordinary solutions, the kind you labor over in kitchens and bedrooms and throne rooms and meeting houses and hearths and negotiation tables. The kind you run a kingdom with.

There is a reason why Dungeon Meshi ends with Marcille and Kabru on either side of Laios's throne.

Okay: back to Kabru (under the cut).

I've talked about this a little before, but I'll reiterate here: I consider Kabru to be the counterweight to the back half of the story. In a very literal sense too, as he pulls the focus up from the depths to the surface not once, but twice. Dungeon Meshi builds itself on the premise that the traditional "dungeon" must function as an actual ecosystem, and the monsters in it are biological actors in that ecosystem and not merely magical obstacles independent of their environment. The first couple dozen chapters are focused on this. Like regular animals, monsters have needs and instincts and unique behaviors, and they can be killed and consumed as part of a food chain.

And then Kabru comes along and he reminds us that humans are also part of their own special ecosystem, with their own needs and instincts and unique behaviors, and that beyond the biological drive of the literal food chain there are also complex social issues influencing these behaviors (like capitalism). Tansu's visit with the governor introduced us to these ideas, but Kabru is the one who carries them.

The way he and his party break down Laios's party also serves an important function. I think most readers are so busy being shocked that Kabru is "so wrong" about our goofy boy Laios that they don't realize that he isn't actually wrong about anything (he's only missing the context of what drives Laios, which he admits to and is part of the reason why he pursues him). We've gotten only Laios's view of things so far, and Laios is pretty tunnel-visioned. The narrative, through Kabru, is telling the reader this is how our protagonist actually comes across to his community.

We like Laios because we are following his story from his inner circle. We know he's naive and struggles with people but that he has a good heart and is ultimately just a big silly guy who won't harm anybody if he can help it. But we only know that because we're seeing him with his inner circle, in his environment. Outside of the dungeon, Laios is anti-social to the point of rudeness; he misreads situations and misjudges people, he acts in ways that cause friction, and he accidentally aligns himself with people who make his whole enterprise look suspicious: a prominent half-foot community leader, a mysterious foreigner literally surrounded by spies, the disgraced daughter of a criminal who now has to shoulder the burden of her father's reputation, and an elf in a land where there are no elves. And they seem to be very good at what they're doing. Yet this whole time, Laios acts as if he doesn't care about profit or taking the kingdom, the only logical reasons why anyone on the Island would gather up such a party and throw themselves into this death pit day after day.

Yeah of course Kabru finds this suspicious and interesting. Of course people don't know what to make of Laios. This all reiterates the question that Zon the orc already raised: What will you do, Laios, if you defeat the Mad Mage? If you gain control of all of this? Can you be a leader? Laios himself doesn't know yet.

This is all necessary context for our protagonist and the journey he has to go on, and it's fittingly brought up by the most socially adept character, who is so concerned with human ecosystems and the bigger picture of the dungeon. There is a reason why Kabru, as a character, is connected to large webs of people as he moves throughout the narrative: his own party, Toshiro's party, the Canaries, the denizens of the first floor of the dungeon.

Kabru is responsible for bringing Toshiro down to Laios's party. Toshiro is not a big mover and shaker in the story itself, but his confrontation with Laios is a huge part of Laios's character arc. His detour down to the lower levels also allows Izutsumi to escape and join Laios's party later.

We also have this very important moment:

It shows the first inkling- to the audience, to Kabru, and to Laios himself- that Laios is willing to do a painful, necessary thing to protect other people, that he won't just allow them to become collateral for his sister/monsters. That he can listen, and that he can assess a situation beyond his personal feelings. Again, fittingly, big-picture-thinker Kabru is the catalyst for this.

And then, not content to leave him as merely a device for Laios's character growth, the focus slingshots back up to the surface, and we follow Kabru.

The Canaries were going to go into the dungeon soon anyway, and they were always going to stir up the crowd in order to lure Thistle to them. Unless Thistle had given up right then and managed to slip away, the story could have very easily ended here:

Falin, immobilized and surrounded by Canaries, would have certainly been killed, and there would have been no way to ever resurrect her. Thistle would have been neutralized. The dungeon would have been taken by the elves, and anyone they could get their hands on would have been imprisoned at best. And maybe the dungeon would have been managed safely ... or maybe something would have gone wrong, and more lives would have been lost. Remember: the Canaries arrived in Utaya one year before the tragedy.

This is a huge moment that changes Laios's life forever, and he doesn't even know it. Kabru single-handedly keeps the story on course by sabotaging the Canaries, and he does it not just for Laios's sake, but for everyone's sake. For his friends and companions in the dungeon and everyone else outside it. Laios is a part of his motivation, a key player in Kabru's hopes, but Kabru has his own desires, his own agenda. He's trying to change the world. In a way, he succeeds. And while the Canaries might wish it were otherwise, as an entity in the narrative they are always anchored to Kabru's character. The two forces collide because of Kabru. The unsealing of the Winged Lion and Marcille's emergency ascension to Dungeon Lord happen indirectly because of Kabru.

While I have talked so much already that I don't want to give a detailed breakdown of it, I do want to mention Kabru's unique interiority as a character. That is to say: we see the inside of Kabru's head more than anyone else. Every character in the main ensemble gets their own moments of inner monologues or fifteen minutes in the limelight, but for Kabru, it's constant. He's always thinking, talking, narrating. His POV chapters always stand out for how first-person they feel compared to most others.

Notably, the only other character I could compare that to is Marcille, specifically during the dungeon rabbit debacle and her ascension afterward, which is when she really takes center stage as a character.

I hope I've explained my reasoning without becoming too insufferable.

To cap off my thoughts with a nod to my original post, I cannot stress enough how significant it is, thematically, that Kabru's relationship with food is the inverse of Laios's. It isn't just that Laios is the main character in a story about cooking monsters and Kabru happens to be his monster-hating foil. The artistic choice to deny the reader the visual of this character ever enjoying food, and only ever putting it in his mouth in situations where it hurts him, in a manga that gives so much attention to eating and the pleasures of meals, cannot be understated.

[niteshade925]

April 20, Beijing, China, National Museum of China/中国国家博物馆 (Part 2 - Dehua white porcelain exhibition/德化白瓷展 continued):

This was actually the very first piece I encountered at the entrance to the exhibition, a gigantic basket of flowers (probably over 1 meter tall and over 1 meter wide?), the entire thing made of porcelain.

And to reiterate, every part of every piece is porcelain. Though I will say that despite the ultra-realistic shape of the flower petals and leaves, the only detail that hinted at these flowers being made out of porcelain was that the painted colors weren't as vibrant as real flowers. That's it. If you don't examine it up close you really can't tell that it's all porcelain.

This is a good place to roughly introduce the technical side of Dehua white porcelain. The color of Dehua white porcelain mainly comes from the clay it uses, which is a special kaolin clay (gaolingtu/高岭土 in Chinese) found in Dehua. The clay mineral used naturally contains sericite and quartz, both of which are silica minerals and may have contibuted to the almost translucent look of the finished pieces; it also contains comparatively high amounts of potassium oxides, while the amount of iron oxides present is low. Due to the intricate designs of the pieces, the firing success rate may be very low. All those pieces involving super thin parts representing fabric or paper or flower petals? They may bring the success rate down to about 5%. Which means many of these pieces may be the 15th-20th try that finally survived firing. For people who are more interested in the chemistry of Dehua white porcelain, this paper goes into depth about it. There's also a great book in Chinese that goes into depth all about Dehua porcelain. (link goes to the first chapter only)

Continuing on, this is one of many Guanyin/观音 (Avalokiteśvara) statues at the exhibition, again with light clothing made out of porcelain:

More Guanyin statues in various classic depictions/forms, of which there are 33 total. This particular form is called Yulan Guanyin/鱼篮观音 (鱼篮 means fish basket), and comes from a legend where Guanyin transformed into a beautiful female fish vendor in order to guide mortals.

I believe the text here reads 持经观音 (Guanyin holding scripture)? The Guanyin here is holding a vase instead of a scroll though.

This is a classic depiction of Guanyin with a little bit of a modern-ish twist? Guanyin is often depicted with a vase of divine water, but here it forms a circle.

Despite some of the Guanyin statues having the amazing ceramic "clothing", this one remains my favorite, just because of the sense of space and serenity that this simple "frame" design creates:

And this very literal take on "thousand arm Guanyin" (千手观音). It's giving me that "biblically accurate angels" vibe:

Buddha floating atop.......idk what that is but the texture is amazing:

A fully painted statue of Guanyu/关羽. The gradient and detailed patterns on his robes is amazing:

Two identical (I think?) statues of the daomadan/刀马旦 (female commander archetype) character Mu Guiying/穆桂英 as she would appear in Chinese traditional opera, one painted and one unpainted. The word 巾帼英雄 in the title means "hero in women's headscarf", which is a term used exclusively in reference to female heroes. There's also the phrase "巾帼不让须眉", which roughly means "those in women's headscarves aren't inferior to those with beards and thick brows"

Porcelain depiction of Dunhuang's famous feitian/飞天 figures, in the classic pose of playing pipa in reverse (called 反弹琵琶). The clothing on this figure is made of porcelain, but this time also painted:

A porcelain statue of a couple in traditional Lhoba/Luoba/珞巴 clothing. The Lhoba/Luoba people are one of China's 55 少数民族 who mainly live in the south-eastern region of Tibet Autonomous Region, and as of 2019, it is the 少数民族 with the smallest population

A porcelain statue of a woman in traditional Miao/苗 clothing. I love how the artist recreated the traditional Miao silver crown in porcelain.

Painted porcelain bust of a woman wearing the Xunbu/蟳埔 "flower crown", named a zanhuawei/簪花围. The town of Xunbu in Fujian province is known for its tradition of zanhua/簪花, or wearing flowers in one’s hair.

Porcelain statue of a Buddhist monk wearing a zhiduo/直裰 (the robes on the inside) and a jiasha/袈裟 (काषाय/kasaya; the garment on the outside that drapes over the left shoulder). From its looks, one can tell that zhiduo originated from hanfu, but with some minor changes (sidenote, this is not the same as the zhiduo of Ming-era hanfu). Jiasha evolved from the clothing of Indian Buddhist monks, but there appears to be a lot of influence from Central Asia and ancient Greece as well (link goes to pdf; this article is in Chinese).

Some modern-themed pieces. Look at those dresses omg

A porcelain statue of Hua Mulan/花木兰, the character from traditional Chinese literature and opera that inspired the Disney character. I will say though this pose reminds me of someone else.......

[reasonsforhope]

"Samuel Onyango’s office at Kibera Primary School is serene and spacious. His table is neatly arranged, with an assortment of files and an array of books. One side of his cream-colored office is decked with aggregate performance scores, and another shows off several trophies in a glass cabinet. Last year, Onyango’s school performed a traditional dance and scooped third place in the National Drama and Film Festivals, where schools across the country competed for the top prize.

But today Onyango, the school’s principal, is bragging about something much more basic: Thanks to an innovative community program, his students and teachers are no longer getting sick from dirty water.

Onyango’s school, with a staff of 30 and a student body of about 1,700, is in Kibera, a neighborhood in the Kenyan capital of Nairobi that is widely known as Africa’s largest informal settlement. It is a community of houses made from mud or tin sheeting where residents have to hustle to meet even their most basic needs, like electricity or clean water.

It is also a community where creativity and innovation, at the heart of any hustle, are changing how some people can access clean water — and making major ripples in public health.

Onyango’s school has long gotten its water the same way many people in Kibera do: by buying it from independent suppliers, who truck water in and sell it for around $30 per 10,000 liters (about 2,650 gallons). But trucked water can be contaminated, despite suppliers’ promises, and Onyango’s students and staff were often using unclean water at home, too. It was common, he says, for both teachers and students to get sick and miss school because of waterborne illnesses.

Last November, Onyango’s school got connected to an aerial clean water system built by a local grassroots organization called SHOFCO, which stands for Shining Hope for Communities. “Once we got connected to SHOFCO’s water,” Onyango says, “cases of these ailments reduced to nil.”

SHOFCO’s water distribution system currently reaches about 40,000 people and distributes more than 3.7 million gallons of clean water per month.

Access to safe drinking water — and its equitable distribution — underpins public health. But for the estimated 250,000 people in Kibera, who live without any government infrastructure, clean water is often a luxury. Many people are using illegal water connections, which proliferate among the poor — there are nearly 130 in just three lesser-resourced Nairobi neighborhoods. But those DIY hookups can mix clean water with raw sewage, and Kenyan officials have recently warned of a looming public health crisis if water access is not prioritized.

Shifting weather patterns also increase the risk of waterborne illness, government officials say. The Ministry of Health and the Kenya Red Cross Society have called out severe flooding during the El Niño weather pattern as a source of a recent major cholera outbreak in parts of the country. Kibera was not spared this risk: The floods led to the contamination of various sources of water in the sprawling neighborhood.

But the aerial piping system SHOFCO built in 2012 — the one that brings water to Onyango’s school — saved some Kibera residents, quite literally. With collaboration from health and county authorities, SHOFCO has all but eliminated diarrheal disease in the communities that use its aerial piping system, according to Gladys Mwende, a program officer at SHOFCO. In the health facilities SHOFCO runs, the incidences of diarrheal infections have also gone down, she adds.

Pictured: People in Kibera’s Makina section pass by the signature blue pillars that hold up SHOFCO’s aerial water piping system. Visual: Sarah Waiswa/Harvard Public Health Magazine

“[Poor sanitation is the reason] that our water is aerial piped,” says Kennedy Odede, the founder and CEO of SHOFCO. Piping water in helps clean water maintain its integrity without interference from elements including tampering. In a huge community with no major infrastructure, piping seemed impossible — there was no money and no will to build a disruptive underground system connected to the city’s main water supply. Instead, Odede and his team put the pipes up in the air. “As somebody who grew up in Kibera, to see this clean water — which I have also drank — is powerful.”

SHOFCO’s water distribution system currently reaches about 40,000 people and distributes more than 3.7 million gallons of clean water per month — nearly 46 million gallons per year — at community water kiosks, which residents access with tokens linked to the mobile money platform M-Pesa. The water kiosks are pre-programmed to fill jerry cans that hold about five gallons at a cost of 3 Kenyan shillings, or about 23 U.S. cents.

A recent evaluation of SHOFCO’s clean water efforts, undertaken by the African Population and Health Research Center, shows diarrheal disease among children under age five have decreased by 31 percent where community members used SHOFCO water kiosks and received SHOFCO’s sanitation messaging.

“We don’t get as many cases of diarrhea even though now we are in the middle of the floods,” Mwende says. “Communities have not reported any outbreaks within the areas where we are working.”

Mohammed Suleiman is grateful for the change. Suleiman, 25, was born here, and it’s been his job for the last 18 years to fetch 135 gallons of water daily for his family’s personal needs and for their samosa business.

Two months ago, Sulieman contracted typhoid from the unsanitary water he was consuming. Once he recovered, he says, switching to SHOFCO water kiosks was a no-brainer.

“I don’t know where the other independent vendors get it from,” he says. But he trusts SHOFCO water. “Water sourced from SHOFCO is cleaner than that of other vendors,” he says. “I don’t have to treat water from [SHOFCO] kiosks before consuming it.”

And he’s the living proof: Since switching to SHOFCO water, Suleiman hasn’t been sick even once."

-via Undark, August 13, 2024

[daisywords]

some misc worldbuilding questions to get your gears turning:

Do they have germ theory or some equivalent? How do they conceptualize the spread of disease and infection?

Is the everyday economy based more on trade/barter or currency? Is the currency valuable in its own right, or is it just something agreed upon to have value (eg. salt or gold vs. paper money)

What is their main method of lighting? What resources does this use?

Primary mode of transportation? How much does this vary based on things like purpose of travel, social class, etc.?

How much of a knowledge/education gap is there between social classes? Is there a baseline of education that everyone gets/is expected to have?

What are the most popular modes of storytelling? Is everyone telling campfire stories? Are they going to plays? puppet shows? are they going to the cinema? are they reading novels or epic poetry? Are there any folk characters or pop culture things that most people are familiar with?

Where does most people's moral framework primarily come from? Religion? Philosophy? Are there different schools of thought? How much do they vary?

Is there anything considered scandalous/improper/taboo that's normal in your own culture? and vice versa

Do most people live and die where they are born, or is it common to relocate and travel widely? how much does this vary by class/profession/region?

What do they do with criminals? Do they have an extensive prison system? If so, who funds/runs it? If not, how is crime discouraged/managed? Are there specific punishments for specific crimes?

How rigid are their class boundaries? How possible/common is it for someone to change social classes?

Is there anything that people get dangerously addicted to in your world? How accessible is it?

How easy is it for someone to do research/look up information they don't know? What is the primary method of doing this?

What holidays do they have? Any weird traditions? Fun traditions? Are they universally celebrated, or only by specific groups of people?

How do they dispose of their dead? How do they honor their dead?

How much exchange is there between cultures? Do people of different groups intermingle, or do they mostly stick with their own people?

How common is it to speak more than one language, and who is most likely to be multilingual?

How much do regional dialects/accents vary within the same language? Are there any dialects/accents that are stigmatized? Do different accents have different associated stereotypes?

This isn't meant to be taken as a checklist that you have to completely fill out btw. Just things that might help add flavor to your world and characters. (Also mostly things I end up thinking about logistically anyway as they become relevant to the plot or a character's frame of reference.) Enjoy!

[mariacallous]

“There are only so many books on Ukraine we can review each month,” an editor from a major British newspaper tells me at one of the country’s largest literary festivals. He looks a bit uncomfortable, almost apologetic. He wants me to understand that if it were up to him, he’d review a book on Ukraine every day, but that’s just not how the industry works.

Since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion, I’ve had a glimpse into how several industries work: Publishing, journalism, and the broader world of culture, including galleries and museums. Even before the big war, I knew more than I wanted to about how academia works (or rather doesn’t) when it comes to Ukraine. A common thread among all these fields is the limited attention they allocate to countries that do not occupy a place among the traditional big players of imperial politics.

Cultural imperialism lives on, even if its carriers often proclaim anti-colonial slogans. It thrives in gate-keeping, with editors and academics mistrusting voices that don’t sound like those higher up the ladder, while platforming those who have habitually been accepted as authoritative. “We’ve done Ukraine already” is a frequent response whenever you pitch an idea, text, or public event centering the country.

The editor who can’t keep publishing reviews of Ukraine-related books walks away, and I pick up a copy of one of the UK’s most prominent literary magazines to see their book recommendations. Out of a handful of reviews, three are on recent books about Russia. It seems like the space afforded to Russia remains unlimited. I close the publication to keep my blood pressure down.

Keeping my blood pressure down, however, is challenging. When my social media feeds aren’t advertising another production of Uncle Vanya, they’re urging me to splash out on opera tickets for Eugene Onegin. What happened to the dreaded “cancelling” of Russian culture? The Russia section in most bookshops I visit in the UK is growing daily with everything from yet another translation of Dostoevsky to accounts of opposition figures killed or imprisoned by the Kremlin.

The international media focus on the August 2024 release of Russian political prisoners was yet another example of how the more things change, the more they stay the same. While these released prisoners were provided with a global media platform to call for an end to “unfair” sanctions on “ordinary Russians,” there was no mention of the thousands of Ukrainian civilians who continue to languish in Russian jails.

The ongoing international emphasis on all things Russian goes hand in hand with a reluctance to transform growing interest in Ukraine into meaningful structural changes in how the country is perceived, reported on, and understood. Although there has been some improvement in knowledge about Ukraine since 2022, the move is essentially from having no understanding to having a superficial grasp.

Each time I read a piece on Ukraine by someone not well-versed in the country’s history and politics, my heart sinks. The chances are it will recycle historical cliches, repeat Kremlin propaganda about Russophone Ukrainians, or generalize about regional differences. And to add insult to injury, such articles also often misspell at least one family or place name, using outdated Russian transliterations. A quick Google search or a message to an actual Ukrainian could prevent these errors and save the author from looking foolish. Yet aiding this kind of colonial complacency seems to bother neither the authors nor the editors involved.

I often wonder what would happen if I wrote a piece on British or US politics and misspelt the names of historical figures, towns, and cities. How likely would I be to get it published? And yet the same standards do not apply when it comes to writing about countries that have not been granted priority status in our mental hierarchies of the world. We can misspell them all we like; no one will notice anyway. Apart from the people from those countries, of course. And when an exasperated Ukrainian writes to complain, I can almost see the editors rolling their eyes and thinking, “What does this perpetually frustrated nation want now? We’ve done Ukraine. Why are they never satisfied?”

It is not enough to simply “do Ukraine” by reviewing one book on the war, especially if it’s by a Western journalist rather than a Ukraine-based author. It’s not enough to host one exhibition, particularly if it is by an artist or photographer who only spent a few weeks in the country. Quickly putting together a panel on Russia’s war in response to a major development at the front and adding a sole Ukrainian voice at the last minute doesn’t cut it either. This box-ticking approach is unhelpful and insulting.

It is important to acknowledge that some Western media outlets have significantly enhanced their coverage of Ukraine over the past two and a half years. They have typically done so by dedicating time and resources to having in-house experts who have either reported from Ukraine for many years, or who are committed to deepening their knowledge enough to produce high-quality analysis. However, many of these outlets still seem compelled to provide platforms for individuals entirely unqualified to analyse the region. Surely this isn’t what balance means?

Since February 2022, more than 100 Ukrainian cultural figures have been killed in the war. According to the Ukrainian Ministry of Culture, by May 2024, over 2,000 cultural institutions had been damaged or destroyed. This includes 711 libraries, 116 museums and galleries, and 37 theatres, cinemas, and concert halls. In May 2024, Russia bombed Factor Druk, the country’s biggest printing house.

When I attended this year’s Kyiv Book Arsenal, Ukraine’s largest literary festival, each panel began with a minute of silence to honor the memory of colleagues killed in the war. All this is in addition to mounting military losses, many of whom are yesterday’s civilians, including journalists and creatives who have either volunteered or been drafted into the army. This is the current state of the Ukrainian creative industry.

To save time for Western editors, publishers, and curators, let me clarify what all of us perpetually frustrated Ukrainians want. We would appreciate it if they turned to actual Ukraine specialists when working on Ukraine-related themes. Not those who suddenly pivoted from specializing in Russia, or who feel entitled to speak authoritatively because they discovered a distant Ukrainian ancestor, or those who have only recently shown interest in Ukraine due to business opportunities in the country’s reconstruction. We would be grateful if they took the time to seek out experts who have been studying Ukraine long before it became fashionable, who understand the country in all its complexity, and who care enough to offer Ukrainians the basic dignity of having their names spelt correctly.

I like to fantasise about a time when editors of top Western periodicals will choose to review books on Ukraine not simply because the country is at war and they feel obliged to cover it now and again, but because these books offer vital insights into democracy, the fight for freedom, or the importance of maintaining unity and a sense of humor in times of crisis. I hope for a day when galleries will host exhibitions of Ukrainian art, not just because it was rescued from a war zone, but because the artists involved provide fresh perspectives on the world.

I also dream that we, the perpetually frustrated Ukraine specialists, will eventually be able to focus on our own scholarship and creativity rather than correcting the mistakes and misleading takes of others. This will happen when cultural institutions, publishing houses, universities, and newspapers acquire in-house experts whose knowledge of Ukraine and the wider region extends beyond Russia.

Dr Olesya Khromeychuk is a historian and writer. She is the author of The Death of a Soldier Told by His Sister (2022). Khromeychuk has written for The New York Times, The New York Review of Books, The Guardian, Der Spiegel, Prospect, and The New Statesman, and has delivered a TED talk on What the World Can Learn From Ukraine’s Fight for Democracy. She has taught the history of East-Central Europe at several British universities and is currently the Director of the Ukrainian Institute London.

[evilminji]

Actually? WOULD Earth be the ones to petition Oa?

They are interstellar Space Interpol. You don't usually call them on different parts of your OWN settlements or systems. You call them in when someone is breaking THE Laws. Not necessarily YOUR laws, though obviously by breaking THE laws they clearly ARE. But THE Big Laws(tm).

Like Geneva Convention for Space type laws.

You have discovered Planet or King X is committing WAR CRIMES. Call Oa. Tax fraud? That's an inter-personal planet side issue they can't help you with. Pointing Nukes at your nursery settlement and threatening to blow up the infants there unless you give them sex-slaves?

Knock-knock! Taste HARD Light Constructs!

But if so? Then how would the situation get so out of hand on Earth? With the G.I.W.? Simple. Tell me, Mr. President, what do you know of the current day to day life of villagers in rural Siberia?

That they exist? Could you even NAME their village, if I referenced specific individuals? Likely not. And no one would realistically expect you too.

There are countless planets out there! With Leaders busy with local industrial conferences and infrastructure bills. Farming regulations. Talks with that planet a few stars over. Very busy. What do THEY know of Earth? Why would they NEED too?

But! As we know, Ectoplasm is EVERYWHERE. Not just earth. And? Thin spots are not just an Earth-centric phenomenon. Other planets most CERTAINLY would have them too. And depending on the species? The culture? To quote the wise sage Bill Wurtz "you can make a religion out of this!"

After all, chosen few, returned from death... glowing and more powerful then before? Immortal? It's a pretty reasonable conclusion to come too. They are clearly Gods Touched. Some sacred task they must complete.

It would likely even shape the ghosts of the region themselves. After all, they TOO, would believe they were chosen for some Important Religious Task. Be it study or collecting rocks. To what end? Unknown. Who are they to question The Gods?

But! Oh happy day! The old tyrant is no more! A chosen Hero! They go to greet him! Honor him, as you do. Traditional gifts and ballads. Maybe some sacred rocks. A fancy hat. But? Oh? The Champion is wounded! Gasp! Still? But the fight with Pariah happened-

And then they are given Grave Warning(tm). Don't go to Earth. Heretics attacking people. KILLING souls! Trying to KILL the king of all the Infinite! He is somber because his living parents were hurt. Preventing the END OF ALL THINGS!!!??

WHAT!?

These "People In White" tried to EXPLODE the very FABRIC of all realities!? Several of them faint. Truely, these Fentons MUST be chosen by the Gods! Heros. Legends. Such bravery in the face of such HORRORS. Please, let them be brought to their Living counterparts! The hospitals are quite good!

And you know what? Fuck it. Danny will take that. Because his Mom n Dad got hurt. BAD.

They learned he was Phantom at probably the SINGLE worst time imaginable and still chose HIM. Chose THEM. The GIW were coming for him. Gonna hurt Jazz. And his parents told them, with fire and blood, it'd be a cold day in hell before they let them so much as TRY it.

They BLEW UP their own life's work. Went literally scorched earth. And now? They're not doing so good.

Because the Zone isn't made for the living. No food, no water, and no real human-safe medical supplies. They've run out. Danny will take what he can get. He'd even go to Vlad but... his Portal's gone too. And the Buzzards said he looked... spirally. Very... "suicide runs until everything BURNS".

So, yeah. No one's doing so great.

Alien planet it is.

They are greeted with fanfare and respect. The best medical teams on the PLANET. The King and his family is there, to welcome him. It's... it's beautiful. Hardly some perfect utopia, but the air is lite. Art everywhere. The stars vivid and so easy to see, at night.

The King kinda reminds him of Mr. Lancer to be honest. Balding and a bit round around the middle, stern but endlessly fair about it, wants people to do their best and succeed in life. Maybe that's why Danny finds himself opening up. Because... because here is a real, honest to God, KING king.

Somebody who was actually TRAINED to do all this King stuff.

Unlike Danny.

And Danny? He's scared. People expect him to Lead now. To know what he's doing. To somehow just... suddenly KNOW how to do all these things he's never even heard about. He only barely just died. Has BARELY been keeping everybody safe.

BARELY stopped Pariah.

He doesn't know what to do. But he pours his guts out. All the things that have bottled up. And King Not-Lancer listens. Somber and thoughtful. There is little, if anything he can TRUELY do to help. But... there ARE things he can do. Lessons on statescraft, while he's here, for one.

As for the other? Well, as King, he does have the local Lantern's Call Sign. Not to be used lightly, mind you. But what Danny describes? And from what the Sacred Ones have reported? THAT must be reported to Oa. He can show Danny how to do that.

(He does)

[The Lanterns of Earth get a VERY exciting call from Oa. Are every different shade of pissed. But? Whoops! Looks like they ACCIDENTALLY put the Watchtower into a complete Quarantine! Well, dang. Guess we're all stuck here for two weeks!

Reset it? *sound of smashing computer terminal* Yeah, don't think that's gonna work! :)

WHO WANTS TO PLAY 20 QUESTIONS?? We'll start! :) Who here has heard of an organization called, and I quote, The Ghost Investigation Ward? :) ]

@hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[inbarfink]

So when discussing the ending of ‘Over the Garden Wall’ and the nature of the Unknown in general, I think it is important to remember that it’s left deliberately up for interpretation. You know, it’s not a Quiz with one concrete answer we must uncover, but it’s more about our interpretations and personal feelings. Each and every one of us experiences that journey with Wirt and Greg into the Unknown in a slightly different way. 

So what I want to do here is not present a Correct Interpretation that will dispute all the others and prove them all wrong and prove myself right, I just want to share my own outlook on the nature of the Unknown. In the hopes that others will like it and it’ll inspire more cool readings and interpretations

So on some level I do agree with the popular theory that the Unknown is some sort of Afterlife - but I don’t see it as a regular Afterlife for human souls, I think it is an afterlife for Stories. This place is where fictional characters and stories end up once they’ve been totally forgotten by the living, ‘lost in the clouded annals of history’. and become.... unknown It is quite literally a place where ‘long forgotten stories are revealed to those who travel through the wood’.

That’s why the Unknown is a mishmash of different time periods and primarily visually and narratively influenced by stuff like fairy tales, ghost stories, children’s books and old cartoons - these stories have a high-tendency to be forgotten and thus get lost in the Unknown (whatever it’s because they rely on oral traditions or because they suffered from very poor preservation historically). 

And that is what the theme song, ‘Into the Unknown’ is talking about…

Where can we pretend that dreams do come true? In Stories.

And what are ‘the loveliest lies of all’? Now that would be Fiction. 

The entire concept of stories is a huge theme of this song, I think.

Beatrice and her family, Adelaide of the Pasture, Auntie Whispers and Lorna were all originally fairy tales. Maybe the same fairy tale, or maybe they were originally separated before being ‘melded’ together. (If, for example, the last child to Remember them before they were forgotten just assumed the Bad Witch in both the Auntie Whispers and Beatrice stories was Adelaide)

Pottsfield was an old urban legend about a haunted ghost town, Wirt and Greg basically played through its ‘plot’ directly. 

Miss Langtree, the schoolhouse and the other associated characters come from a long-forgotten and out-of-print children’s book. That’s why those characters tend to talk in comically-stilted expository dialogue. 

The Tavern was the setting for a series of 20’s animated cartoons.  (Although obviously set long before that era). The Tavern Keeper was created as a Betty Boop clone and was the main character. The Tavern setting was probably a mere framing device for all sort of musical animations. The reason why none of them can comprehend the idea of not having some sort of Title or Label is because that’s how they were written - all given job-related titles but not named.

Fred the Talking Horse was a main character from a forgotten tradition of humorous oral stories where he was sometimes a trickstery anti-hero and sometimes a straight-up comedic villain protagonist.

Quincy Endicott and Margueritte Grey were characters from a satiric limerick about the greedy rich and their wacky habits. (Quincy was at least inspired by a real-life person since his name appears on a tombstone in the real world)

Possibly the same limerick where the punchline was the status-quo at the beginning of their OTGW ep, that both rivals’ mansions have become connected and they assume the other is a ghost haunting their house. Or maybe they were each from different regional variations of the same limerick about a greedy rich weirdo being lost in their own house and going mad. 

Frogland and their little boat might be from a children’s book as well, but I also think that maybe… from the vignettes shown at the opening of the series…

That one might take place outside the Unknown, and shows the real inception of Frogland. Two brothers making up stories with their toy boat by the river. Since they never shared these stories with anyone else, when these two brothers died or maybe just grew up and forgot their boyhood misadventures by the stream - these stories also ended up in the Unknown. 

The Fishing Fish we see briefly in ‘Babes in the Woods’ might be a small comedic illustration from a children’s book, or another piece of limerick, or just someone’s random notebook doodle that gained a life of its own first in the creator’s mind and then in the Unknown. 

Cloud City, the North Wind and the Queen of the Clouds were also, much like the Tavern, from a very old cartoon.

The Beast was once just a mere Boogie Man to keep young children from wandering off into the woods. Ending up forgotten in the Unknown just ended up giving him a whole world of lost souls to harvest. 

Maybe the Woodsman and his daughter were always a part of the story of the Beast. But since it seems that the Woodsman being a lantern-bearer is a fairly recent development - they might have had their own separate story. Some sort of pastoral novel about a family moving near the woods? But their narrative has been ‘hijacked’ by the Beast. 

Wirt and Greg ended up lost within the Unknown cause had they actually died in the lake that night - they would have become a Story in their town. I mean we have a moody lonely teenager and his adorable little brother disappearing/dying - on the night of Halloween - after last being seen in a graveyard - with the older brother’s last act on this earth being to hand his crush a cassette of his love poetry. Can you imagine what sort of Urban Legenda you can grow from those seeds?

But as they were not yet dead, and not a Story yet… so they were technically an Unknown story. Between the borders of life and death from a human perspective because they were about to die, and from a Story perspective because they were just about to be born.

And the ending sequence, with the little vignettes showing where all the characters from all the episodes ended up. I think that’s almost like Wirt and Greg back in the world of the living and the real - being able to create happy endings for all of those stories they've met. That’s how the Woodsman’s daughter ended up being alive all along - it was less that the Woodsman's whole tragedy was a wacky misunderstanding all along. But it became so as a gift of thanks by their new storytellers - Wirt and Greg.

Because if dreams can't come true, than why not pretend?

[intheholler]

what do you think of all of the people being scared of appalachia? i don't know if this is recent or not, but currently i've been seeing a ton of shit online like "never go to the appalachian mountains, it's so dangerous", and i just don't understand it. my family's lived in appalachia for forever, and none of us have experienced anything paranormal or endangering to us. you're one of my favorite blogs on here and i'd just like to hear your thoughts on it

first off, it means a lot that i'm one of your favorite blogs and im really happy i can contribute something to your experience here :') thanks so much for being here <333

but ok so.

my thoughts on it are many. it's been bothering me a long time and i've been meaning to get it off my chest. this will be long and probably ranty, so it won't hurt my feelings if anyone skims lol

lemme preface this little diatribe by saying the obvious: folklore is an integral part of any culture. the mythos of a place/people is tied directly to their histories and unique experiences and struggles and they are enriching. this is true of appalachia too.

oral folk traditions especially are incredibly historically appalachian.

i mentioned in a post i made yesterday about murder ballads, how the purpose of these was to warn kids away from doing dumb shit and getting lost in the hollers--falling down cliffs n mineshafts and shit at night. gettin got by wildlife.

it spooked us safe. they served a purpose, and once you got old enough to realize they're as real as the tooth fairy, they just become enjoyable and nostalgic. because they're you're culture.

probably every mountain kid has stories about haints n boogers that were told to them by their grandparents, and they grow up to tell them to their own kids, and so on. some of it stuck with me because i grew up with the folklore.

by that i mean, i'm a whole 31 year old woman and i still avoid looking out a dark window at night cause it gives me the shivers. i still get spooked when i hear a big cat yowling in the woods. but the difference is i know there's not really haints out there crying--it's just a product of my childhood. ghost stories are fun.

the problem comes in when someone outside the culture gets their hands on appalachian oral folk traditions. then, it becomes a familiar problem: outsiders cherry picking appalachia and harming us with the mess they make rifling through it all.

it's all about the surface level and the visuals. they all love a good aesthetic blog, run by some local from out west or some shit who's never stepped foot here.

but as soon as the spooky photo filters come off and the real life marginalized person is left standing there just out of frame, we go back to being disgusting examples of what not to be. decrepit churches n buildings are aesthetic and quirky until they stop being on a pinterest board, and then they just become damning images of an impoverished region who deserves to be laughed at.

now, not to holler 'splain you--this is more for anyone not from here who might read this: it's been a systemic issue for decades; there were literal government campaigns to demonize us to the rest of the nation so they could garner support to cut into our mountains and exploit our labor and resources.

well, they were fuckin successful, and we have been falsely made out to be this homogenous nightmare of a place--"welfare exploiting" maga country who deserves everything we get, and nothing we don't.

by going so far as to take appalachian folklore that we tell each other and picking out the "aesthetic" stuff--the haints and general paranormal--they are pruning what they like from our culture--the safe things, like ghost stories--for their own aesthetic use.

but not only that, they are using it to demonize us… yet again.

'appalachia is scary. it's full of things that will kill you. don't look out the window at night cause a booger will get you.' only they don't call them boogers cause they ain't even from here. ask them what a haint is and they'll ask if u mispelled 'haunt.'

it gets even worse when you consider that so much of it has roots in native american culture, and how that continues to be exploited and misrepresented.

i'm not even innocent of that. a while back i had to check myself because i made a comment on here about ~spooky appalachia~ ignorant to the fact that what i was commenting on was actually a deeply important cultural and spiritual element to local indigenous tribes. my comments were harmful by my failure to educate myself and know better, thereby saying things carelessly.

my point being--i'm from the area. i should have known better.

when outsiders start saying the kind of shit they say about what they think they hear in the woods without even knowing where such an idea comes from, they're disrespecting a displaced, abused and exploited people, harming real cultures just for clicks without even knowing. that's on top of the damage they're doing to greater appalachia.

it's fuckin gross.

i think my favorite one i ever seen was this middle aged white lady going through her pristine mcmansion somewhere in suburbia, pulling the million curtains and locking the million doors, going "nighttime routine in appalachia!! 🤪🤪"

i could be wrong about this particular person--i didn't check their other tiktoks because im sick of them accounts and tired of giving them the benefit of the doubt--but it immediately came off as a transplant because:

1) mcmansion, 2) i dont know nobody here that locks their shit down like that (not locking up could even be argued as a part of my local culture, a reflection of our deep sense of community and trust in our neighbors).

and then the comments was all like "i don't know how you guys live there" and it actually broke my heart and pissed me off because even if--especially if--you're one of us, why the fuck are you harming us for likes? why are you turning people against us in a brand new way?

and to the transplants that do this--why?

you're not even from here, you moved here to this place you hate and made it worse just so your front porch would have a nice view, and are now benefiting socially from perpetuating bullshit about us?

you buy up all the land, land we often had no choice but to sell in the first place to survive instead of passing it on to our families, land we originally took from the indigenous peoples your content comes from.

you overdevelop it and turn it unrecognizable to make it more like the comfortable cities you come from. you gut a mountain town of its local businesses and cultures, you price people out of their homes...

...and then once you settle in all cozy like, you go tell everyone else how scary it is? how you can't trust the hills? like it's a cool paranormal bravery badge to wear? fuck off entirely.

so idk, in short my personal thoughts are: i personally enjoy a little myth as a treat, because the folklore is a part of the gothic, a part of our culture and a part of my childhood. i don't (intentionally) wield it as a weapon or use it as a pedestal to get the weird brand of attention that people like them are after.

and those who do this can get got by them haints for all i care.

[krowlovesinazuma]

Prologue:

Life was often disappointing. Looking at the world around them, y/n often had this thought resurface. So gray, dull, repetitive, tiresome... It was hard not to think like this, especially when you had such wonderful worlds to see inside of your phone! Sure it was just a reward after going through bothersome real life tasks, but at least it was a source of color and light into their life.

And nowhere was this more true than in the world of Genshin Impact. Was that any surprise though? The sceneries, characters, stories, it was all so eye catching! But of course, with so many to choose from, everyone has to have favorite places to visit and sources of content. Y/n's choice? Inazuma, of course! To many, this wasn't a surprising choice, as this region was one crafted with care and passion.

That's why y/n put so much time of their life into this small game filled with so much soul, especially when they had a favorite to prefer! And with a favorite region came favorite characters! However, this little game had a far stronger soul than many would suspect. After all, when writings on the internet spoke about self aware characters, it was easy to treat it as just a fun imaginary scenario.

However, interestingly enough, something special happened in y/n's game. Yes, stories of the creator rang wide and far across the entire lands of Teyvat, but they were old, degraded, forgotten by some and discarded as fairy tales by most. Thanks to your love, however, a certain special region felt something special.

Inazuma was a land filled with legends come true and old traditions remembered amongst all, so the stories of the creator were still relevant there. And when suddenly, some influential people of the islands began to feel a light sensation in their bodies, leading them on adventures and making them stronger as soon as the traveler arrived at the archipelago, the dots were easy to connect.

Using connections, they realized that they were the only ones that felt this sensation, or at least the only ones that had associated it with the tales of the creator. At first, some wanted to spread the good word and alert the other regions, but the people in charge realized something alarming. While yes, their influential characters were gaining strength and happiness, wouldn't it be dangerous if other regions suddenly had the same powers? Wouldn't it be safer to keep it a local secret? After all, tourists would just assume it was a silly folk tale, and they would earn the safety if disasters were to come.

So, while they decided to keep this secret from the rest of Teyvat, they began to worship you alongside the rest of their gods. You were far greater than them however, as some could claim that your presence made their lives much better: General Kujou Sara, head priestess Yae Miko, courier Kirara, even the Shogun herself had spoken highly of this creator. They all showed devotion towards them, and desired to keep their love.

There was a sudden change in the middle of this strange situation in your account. One night, a particularly tiresome day of work left y/n exhausted, both physically and mentally. They turned on their laptop, eager to get to playing, but as they began moving and doing commissions, they felt far too tired. It wasn't long before they fell asleep, their head squeezing the keys. It was then, with the screen flashing right at their face, that an error happened in the game. The game recognizes you as a critical character in the game, and Inazuma worshipped you far too much for your influence to be something remote. The screen flashed brighter than your world could ever aspire to, and suddenly y/n was no more.

When they woke up, they found themselves in a field, with the grass hugging their picture. They were well rested, far too well for having fallen asleep at the desk... Wait a minute. Looking around, they knew exactly the location they were in! This wasn't their boring old world, this was the bright Inazuma! But hold on, they had read stuff about this, and how some stories like this turned incredibly dark, and terrifying... They ran some tests.

//tw: small injury mention//

Taking out a swiss army knife they kept in their pocket for convenience, they made a small cut to their finger, and much like they had read so much, they weren't bleeding like normal, but instead a few drops of glittering gold dropped! Letting out a relieved sigh, they knew that they were a legitimate creator. Then, they checked their pockets, and they still had the phone there, so that they could still control the world through there. All was good in their checklist! Now it was just time to get out there, and enjoy whatever they could in this strange situation...

[fanfic-obsessed]

Ten Years in Two months

While the meat and potatoes of this idea comes a bit later, it does require some finangleing beforehand. Some of the beginning does feel a bit contrived, because it is. In order for the dominoes of the plot to fall right later, we do have to force them into shape now in a series of improbable actions. 

Bear with me for a bit, we’ll get there. 

There is not really a particular point this starts, save that it is after Padme becomes pregnant (though well before she realizes she is) but before the Umbara arc (or ignoring the Umbara Arc), for no particular reason other than I want Waxer there.  A mission is assigned to the 212th to escort Padme Amidala and her retinue to a neutral world for negotiations with the Separatists.  They are taking with them commander Ahsoka Tano (the in-world explanation being that she was on Coruscant catching up with course work and they would rendezvous with the 501st, who were on a campaign in that region). 

On the way to this neutral world, from the perspective of the rest of the galaxy, the 212th in its entirety vanishes for two months. 

From the perspective of the 212th they become trapped on an uncharted planet for 10 years. 

For the rest of the galaxy those two months are enlightening into Anakin Skywalker's particular brand of instability.  Without the tempering influence of the bonds to his Master and Padawan, compounded by the fact that his secret wife disappeared as well, Well…his attempts to find them could, in the best of lights, be described as unhinged. He did not fall in at this time, for he was given no reason to make that choice (and falling to the dark, into evil is very much a choice. One does not fall by accident, after all), but he made it very clear that the war, protecting innocents, the Republic, or even the lives of his own men meant nothing compared to finding Padme (occasionally he would remember to make it seem as though he was focusing on finding Obi Wan or Ahsoka, though he never quite remembered to include the rest of the 212th). His obsession presented itself in such a way that even Palpatine was reconsidering some of his plans (he still intended to break Anakin into Vader, but he was now inclined to let Padme-and maybe even Ahsoka; Obi Wan was always going to die-live on as a stabilizing influence to his ultimate apprentice). 

He was swiftly removed from command of the 501st and had to be kept partially sedated for at least 6 of those 8 weeks. 

With the 212th for the first few months, from their perspective, they tried to contact the rest of the fleet. Tried to contact anyone.  Tried to escape from their orbit around this one planet, thankfully habitable and with an abundance of edible food. However, though they did not know it, the planet was out of sync with the rest of the galaxy.

Over the period of about two years they shifted from living mostly on the ships with just enough people on the surface of the planet to keep everyone fed to a more permanent settlement on the planet with a rotating skeleton crew up on ships to keep everything running. 

Padme found out about her pregnancy pretty early on, and with it came the knowledge that her relationship with Anakin was not the secret she thought it was.  Nor was the relationship forbidden like Anakin told her. The marriage was forbidden, because of the Oaths Anakin swore as part of the Jedi Order and how they conflicted with the traditional Nabooian Wedding vows (though she also finds out that the Jedi Order would have helped revise both sets of vows so they did not conflict).  Even beyond her own misunderstandings of the Jedi, she started to see the many places where Anakin either deliberately misunderstood his own culture, or deliberately misled her.  

In fact it became obvious within the first six months that every culture represented in the ships (The variety of cultures from the natborn admiralty, the Nabooian Delegation, The clones, and the Jedi) all had some misconceptions about all of the other cultures ranging from the humorously minor to massive misunderstandings (One of the minor misunderstandings is between the Jedi and the Clones on names and numbers. The Jedi believe that they are making sure that they are calling the clones what the clones want to be called instead of their designation. The clones think that the Jedi as a whole are uncomfortable with their designation AS names-Which yes but also no-so even though most of the clones prefer a name to their designation, even the few that want to use their designation are told by the other clones that the must choose a name to use around the Jedi). 

Obi Wan takes over Ahsoka’s training and the gaps that Anakin had left become very obvious; the place where he taught her something that was outright wrong even more so. About three months in, Ahsoka tells Obi Wan about Anakin’s ‘training’ of being surrounded and fired upon by the 501st.  One of the few things that Anakin was right about was that he Jedi would not understand, nor condone, that training. Ahsoka had not realized how disconnected from her own culture she had become in her short time with Anakin. How isolated he had made her from her people. Though she and Obi Wan were the only Jedi, she felt closer than ever to everything she had grown up with as he took on her tuition. 

In month 8 Obi Wan, who was looked to as the leader, arranged for a series of times to address the misconceptions held by an for each culture present.  When it became clear that they were cut off for the long haul, he helped the variety of people to start to live instead of just surviving.  And at the beginning there were a number of natborns among them that were anti clones, or anti Jedi, just as there were many clones that were anti nat born.  But with only about 1500 people in total (1300 clones, about 50 natborn officers and support staff, about 150 senatorial support staff) there were simply not enough people to support those kinds of prejudices.  It is hard to say that the clones were not human when you listen to the stories of decommissioned batchmates during one of the remembrance ceremonies.  Or hate the natborn lieutenant that got drunk and cried all over you about the pregnant wife they left behind.

The twins were born with a village of aunts and uncles, and though they are the oldest, they were not the only ones. Sache, one of Padme’s former handmaidens and part of her senatorial retinue, entered into a relationship with Waxer and Boil, having a child with them that was a year younger than the twins.  Many relationships formed and broke apart during those years.

Ahsoka and Padme ended up co parenting the twins, with Padme being called Mom and Ahsoka being called Mom Ah.  It was the twins who insisted on their names from their earliest ability to speak. 

In year four Cody and Obi Wan get married. Though theirs is not the only relationship that develops, nor the only one with healthy communication, their relationship does highlight to Padme how unhealthy her relationship with Anakin actually was. (It should be noted that, although Anakin’s instability and actions were flashier, this is not Anakin abusing/coercing the poor innocent Padme. In this they are toxic together, both acted in unhealthy ways that compromised their own morals).  Padme was able to see how Cody and Obi Wan did not use their love for each other as a bandage for deeper wounds. That CodyWan did not become all consuming; each man had friendships and hobbies and duties separate from each other (even with the friends they shared, they did not act as a single unit, inseparable from each other).  The other relationships she saw only drove this point home. 

At some point in those ten years she tells Obi Wan of what happened on Tatooine, just before the start of the war. And Obi Wan, eyes betraying his grief and horror at the massacre of the Tuskens asked her why she absolved Anakin of his crimes (By technicality, as a senator Padme did have the authority to absolve Anakin-so even if Tatooine becomes part of the Republic, and the crime is reported, Padme’s actions mean that Anakin cannot be tried under Republic Law). Padme cannot answer him.  

Though it does take time, Padem is eventually able to meet Obi Wan’s eyes again after the revelation. 

6 years in, Ahsoka and Padme realize that they have fallen in love.  Driven by the Jedi teachings for healthy and open communication (though many cultures value open and honest communication, few need it in the same way as the Jedi who are all some degree of Empath), they talk about what was happening. Neither is sexually attracted to the other, but they do want to date each other.  But Padme is married to Anakin. And it might have been six years, so they do not know if Anakin even still lived, and if did, he had likely moved on (both of which are reasonable assumptions) but being together without first speaking to Anakin felt too much like giving up the idea that they would find a way home. So they agreed to wait until they were ready to give up that idea. 

They had not given up by the time that the 10 year mark rolled around.

In year 7 the chips begin to deteriorate. The material they were made up of were not meant for the extra years of use, plus the method Helix used to stop the accelerated aging (discovered within 5 months of actually having time) created an enzyme as a byproduct that had no effect on the clones, but accelerated the deterioration of the chips.  The first three chips were removed after the clones involved complained of migraines. All the documentation in the computer banks (the archive of what was readily available, instead of what was stored on the galaxy’s version of the cloud) of the ships said the chips were to inhibit excess aggression. No one had any reason to not believe the documentation, not even with the realization that the chips were not in the right place for what they were supposed to do (the assumption is that the Kaminoans, for all their genetic know how, just do not understand near human neurology enough to have put it in the right place).  Obi Wan met with Helix, the head medic, with Cody after the removal of those first chips.  Obi Wan assumed that he did not know about the chips because he had not been on the council when the order was put in. Helix is able to confirm that all of the clones have these chips and what they are supposed to do (according to the literature) and that some were beginning to deteriorate.  After it becomes clear that the removal will not hurt the clone, they make the decision to remove all of them. However, believing them to be behavioral modifiers (if incorrectly placed), and as they did not have the optimal equipment to decode them, they all left it at that and put the Chips into storage and basically forgot about it. 

Just 15 days shy of the 10th anniversary of their arrival to the uncharted planet, whatever grip that was holding the ships bound to orbit the planet vanished (The planet was in sync with the rest of the galaxy- it is a window of time that is six hours long in the larger galaxy, or 15 days long on the planet) Still not able to raise communications to anyone outside of the planet’s orbit, not knowing how long they would have before they were stuck again, and fearing that they would be cut off from anyone left behind (no one had forgotten that the planet had not registered as there until they were trapped), everyone was loaded onto the ships along with all of their food stores and the 212th left the uncharted planet. 

As soon as they hit the galaxy at large again, alarms began to shriek. Every system that communicated with the central systems (basically everything outside of life support) experienced a fatal error upon reconnecting with the galaxy’s central system. It takes 4 days to fix. They have to reset all of the internal clocks/calendars in their computer systems to a date and time two months and 3.5 days after they became trapped (the last 24 hours of that time was spent inputting random dates into the system). 

NOTE: There is a very important reason for this. Computers are very black and white about some things, and communicating between computers is often validated on specific information to make sure that both systems are dealing with the same information at the same thing. Current Date/Time had to be validated for the purpose of navigation. Galactic/Stellar drift is very real, and in the mapped regions of the galaxy that drift is precisely calculated.  It is impossible to keep a real time map of every object in the galaxy, instead there is a systematic ping that goes out at specified times (Twice per Galactic Standard year) remapping every object in the known galaxy and correcting the location in the centralized system.  Then Navigation computers calculate how long it has been since the last ping to figure out where everything is and a safe route.  That only works if the current date time matches the current date time of the centralized system exactly (some of those object movements, even objects large enough to damage the largest of ships, can be measured in microseconds). 

No one realizes why this is an issue. The entirety of the 212th believe that 10 years have passed (born out by their time keepers, which had ticked along for ten years) and yet to the larger galaxy only two months have. They absently notice that by the time anything is working again the planet they were on had vanished. 

A message is sent to Coruscant, to the Jedi temple, but it is a hesitant thing. Deliberately vague in details. Obi Wan has no idea what 10 years has done for or to the war effort.  The response is almost immediate,  a call from the Jedi council. The very first question out of Mace Windu’s mouth is a cranky sounding ‘Where in the Force have you been for the last two months?’ (Look Master Windu is absolutely ecstatic that they are safe and not dead, but he has spent the four days helping to keep Anakin contained-the sedation began to wear off faster now that he could feel Ahoska and Obi Wan in the Force again-, the last two months realizing that Obi Wan ran about a third of their side of the war, and had been in the middle of sleeping for the first time in weeks).

There is quite a bit of confusion as both Obi Wan and Mace were absolutely sure the other had lost it over how long the 212th had been gone (Obi Wan: we were trapped for ten years; Mace: Bullshit! You’ve been gone for 2 months).  It is Ahsoka’s appearance that convinces Mace that something more is going on (he would not know the children, and Ahsoka is the only other one for whom 10 years-or 10 years and 5 months for the clones- would make a huge visible difference). Mace is able to convince Obi Wan that they really have only been gone two months and the 212th makes its way back to Coruscant, reeling over the disconnect (The Lieutenant who spent the last 10 years mourning over the missed moments with their wife and unborn child…hasn’t even missed the birth).

The mind healers who have been dealing with Anakin nearly weep in relief at the news that Padme Amidala is with the 212th and safe. They know that Anakin needs many much therapy still but they have hope he will actually pay attention now that his wife is back. 

The 212th, now a community in a way that they had not been, returned to Coruscant.  They do not split in the ways that they would have before (before relationships and children) and peer at the lives they had left behind that they no longer quite fit the shape of. 

The lieutenant brings home their best friend (a clone who had not picked their name before the mission, but decided to go with 29, which they picked to reference the number of a decommissioned batchmate)  to meet their wife, only for some of the wife’s family make an awful comment about flesh droids and being a pet (thankfully their wife was equally embarrassed by her brother’s behavior). 

Obi Wan, Cody, Padme, and Ahsoka go to the Jedi temple, to the Jedi Council (the twins, like the rest of the children, were left aboard the Negotiator in the care of their extended family). They speak of the planet where they had been trapped and the lives they grew there. 

Padme took the time to apologize to the Council, formally, for the violation of their beliefs that she and Anakin had perpetrated by marrying as they had.  She could admit that while Anakin had not told her of any Jedi traditions for marriage, or really any traditions they might be violating by marrying, she had made no effort to check either. 

As an afterthought Obi Wan told the Jedi Council about the chips deteriorating, but that they did not appear to be doing anything anyway (To which every other member went: “What chips?”). Upon being asked Obi Wan calls for Helix to get a chip or two out of the storage closet they had been forgotten in. Which was then promptly handed to people with specialized equipment for decoding bio mechanical chips. 

After the latest round of sedation has worn off Padme, Obi Wan, and Ahsoka go to see Anakin. They are told that before Anakin can be released he needs to be assessed by three different mind healers. They go intending to tell Anakin of the twins. Padme also goes with the intent to test the waters about the possibility of separating (She does not know that her and Ahsoka dating would go anywhere, nor are either of them even thinking of it right now, but even leaving that aside Padme has realized that her and Anakin are not healthy together). Things do not go quite as intended. 

At first Anakin is so happy to see all three of them, he exclaims over Ahsoka being so grown up (she is now 24, now older than Anakin). It rapidly becomes clear that Anakin expected he would be released immediately, now that they were back.  There was a small blip, a frown and a strange heaviness when he realized that all three of them were backing the healers that he needed to be assessed.  Anakin also did not like how close Ahsoka and Obi Wan were, oh before they vanished he would joke about Ahsoka being their shared padawan, but he preferred it when Obi Wan’s lessons unintentionally reinforced the idea that Ahsoka was better off with Anakin than any other Jedi.

There were a few moments when he could speak to Padme alone, and the way he spoke left  Padme feeling cold. There was nothing overt but it all reinforced a possessiveness that Padme realized she did not want in her or her children's lives. They leave without telling Anakin about the children. 

Padme tries six more times to go and talk to Anakin about separating. At best he acts like he does not hear or understand her words.  At worst he starts ranting about Obi Wan trying to steal his wife and needing to be sedated. 

Regretfully, and with the backing of both the Jedi and the 212th community, Padme starts the process to get a divorce. Nabooian traditions insist that a couple that wants to divorce must meet with a Nabooian marriage counselor first, to see if reconciliation is possible.  Setting this up takes several months as, upon being informed of proceedings Anakin had a second breakdown. His connection to the Force was such that the Jedi needed to block the connection lest he become very destructive. Only the Force Blockers left him not coherent enough to attend the session with Counselor. In the end the Jdi built a special room just to block Anakin’s specific connection to the force for them to meet in.  Traditionally the divorcing couple meets at least 5 times before permission is given to divorce.  It took one meeting for the Counselor to grant Padme her divorce. 

The 501st had not been assigned a new general by the time the 212th returned, and Ahsoka was almost ready for knighthood.  She took command of the 501st for a total of 4 months, it was too uncomfortable and too much like she was replacing Anakin (made weirder by the fact she still wanted to date his soon to be ex wife  and was helping to raise his children).  In the end Obi Wan ended up taking direct command of the legion, with Cody taking the lead of the 212th.  This also made everyone uncomfortable, thankfully the war ended three months after that (the revelation of what the chips did had the council contemplating finding the planet that 212th had been stranded on).

Palpatine had been indiscrete around someone who he had assumed would back his power play for an Empire. To be fair, in another world that family would have been high ranking imperial with very human centric tendencies. 

Palpatine had not expected a Lieutenant of the Galactic Navy, member of the 212h or not, to whip out a slug thrower and shoot at a party when Palpatine had admitted to knowing about the slave chip in the clones' heads. 

To be fair, neither did the Lieutenant.

[salixsociety]

Wind Chimes, Witch Ladders / the Evil in Stillness

A folk grimoire of destagnation.

Those of us with European parents are undoubtedly familiar with the feeling of coming home from some trip, where your parents urge you to run through the house and open all the windows: "air out the house!" You speed around, kicking up dust, moving the air, slowly washing away the strange feeling of stillness that has contaminated your home. Air out the house. "Don't catch the draft," your parent yells up the stairs at you. The draft, of course, is never explicitly acknowledged to contain some ill-wishing spirit that will give you the flu, but everybody knows it does. And the same can be said for that stagnant air in the house, the silence permeating the walls.

The Evil in Stillness

Stillness is not good. Stillness has never been good - we have feared it since before we knew how to make fire. The land going silent, going motionless, going truly still; that spells disaster. Even now, with flashlights and the safety of our home, we are not spared the fear of stillness. None of us are comfortable in quiet forests. But even under our own roof we are not safe: when all is dark and everybody is motionless in their beds, ill-wishes, scary spirits and night-mares roam. And it would seem we can invite them into our homes, purely by leaving it unattended for long enough.

The stillness that comes about a home when it has been without inhabitants for long enough can only be solved by one thing: the return of the living. Whether that is people or animals coming by, or the house falling into decay and plants finding their way in. This seems inherent human knowledge - we feel more comfortable in houses that are or were recently occupied. Abandoned houses covered in ivy or inhabited by rodents are far less eerie than abandoned urban structures still perfectly as they were when they were left. Horror movies show little creatures scuttling about in still places when they want to give us a break from the terror.

So, it seems we all know the terrible feeling of stuffy air, stagnant energy, stillness, however you may know it. We all know the vulnerability of being motionless in the dark. To some of us it may seem more relevant than others: those of us who get goosebumps from silence, those of us who experience the fear of stillness in our cultures every day. But we all feel it. To those who fear it as much as I, I dedicate the following magic to alleviate and prevent stillness.

Preventing Stillness / Keeping the Evil at Bay

The universal key to life in a house seems to be moving air. Airing out the house is a great remedy, but it can also be your preventative measure - if safe, keep a window cracked and let the air flow through your house while you are gone. However, sometimes the air moving is just not possible. Sometimes you have to close up the whole house, and trap all the air inside of it. What then?

A popular method that appears across cultures is to have charms in and around the house that are very prone to moving. The movement would scare off the evils and spirits, because it would disrupt the stillness they are trying to inhabit. And the kicker about these charms is that they do not need air to move when they're being used against stillness, because the spirits who come to inhabit the stillness will also make the charms move as they invite themselves in. Silly trolls.

One charm I personally very much enjoy is an adaptation of the Cornish witch ladder. I like to make them as is traditional, but with only feathers going in opposite directions, no stones. In my home region of Low Saxony it was also common to use both snail shells and egg shells, which are light but associated with magic and protection, in charms. Whether you used them on a string, made a garland, or any other type of charm that moves easy and can be suspended from the ceiling. Other materials that would lend themselves incredibly well to such charms, the type you hang from the ceiling and let sway in the wind, would be sea shells, small twigs, hollowed sticks and straw, origami pieces, paper spirit crafts, sea sponge, dried flowers, etc.

Houseplants and flowers are another excellent method to keep some of the living present. Especially plants that move throughout the day: those that follow the sun, or whose flowers open and close depending on the light. But any living plants will really do. They will not completely spare you from the stuffy air, but they will certainly lessen the effects of stillness.

A different way to cut through stagnant air is sound. Something that is always producing sound (or only silent when you're not there to see it being silent... supposedly...) is a great way to stop the spirits of silence creeping into your dwelling. That is where a wind chime of any sort may often come in, but there are different ways to do this, such as pipes fastened to catch the wind, so that they howl, or even always leaving the radio softly playing in the background, set to a classical station, like was often done by the richer families I knew in my childhood. This sort of precaution, an auditory one, lends itself extremely well to being outside the house, where the wind enables them to be in near perpetual function. A house that has music coming from it, that appears almost as though it were truly fully alive of its own right, independent of having residents, will always scare away the stillness.

Remedying the Stillness / Scaring Away the Evil

For the most part, chasing away the scary things in the stillness comes naturally to us. We even chase it away, though less effectively, purely by coming home and making our house our own again. But if you are sensitive to it, you don't like it, and you want to get rid of that stagnant feeling as fast as possible, here's some effective methods, to combine or use separately.

Open all the windows, or enough windows/doors to allow air to flow through your house effectively. Both doors on opposite ends of the house are a great option, but so are more-or-less opposite windows, or windows that are directly connected through hallways and open doors.

Play sounds, out loud. Not necessarily loudly, but loud enough that it carries through the house and makes it feel alive again. Music from a speaker, the TV, a laptop with a YouTube video. Even just your own voice singing or talking. If you have no neighbors to annoy you can even bang pots or play an instrument.

Run around, dance, frolic. Visit every room, see how it's doing, move some things around. Shake up pillows and duvets. Fill all the spaces with your presence again.

Make a meal. Cooking will fill the air with the busyness of food preparation and the smell of inhabitants and labor.

Light incense or smoke cleanse your house. Smoke always moves through the air and gives it life back. Smoke is also a great indicator of stagnant air, as in rooms with stagnant air, smoke hangs around, suspended almost motionlessly.

Clean. Sweeping, especially, is a very effective manner of removing stagnation. Some people also like to sprinkle salt and then sweep that from the furthest point of the door, going toward the door, until they have swept all the salt out. A common folk spell to chase spirits off and not have them come back is to sweep toward the door, making sure to get every room, and when you have swept a room and are in the door, say: 'shoo! I'm cleaning here, out of my way! And you had better not track dirt in here!'

There are also those things that you may want to do for safety. Some houses with less modern running water should have the faucets on for a while so the stagnant water is out of the system before you consume it. Things like that often also double as great ways to bring some life back.

However you do it, the life will always come back to a place as long as there are people there. And let us never learn to loathe the stillness: as scary as it is, we can also learn a lot from the spirits contained in it. For some people, a completely still space may be just what they need to talk to spirits, to do divination, to decompress for just a bit. Eerie does not mean inherently bad; 'eerie' is only a symptom of our survival instinct.

I hope you feel inspired to think about the spirits around you, and the role they play both when you can sense them and when you cannot.

[solar-wing]

⚣ ATLA/LOK: The Four Nations & Homosexuality ☀️

I'm planning to write for my favorite characters from the Avatar universe again. Any OGs from my first account know I started posting content about ATLA and LOK, specifically Bolin and Mako, WAAAY before I started posting DC and Marvel content among others.

So I wanted to talk about something I found really interesting about homosexuality within the four nations and their attitudes towards it regarding acceptance and whether they embraced or turned away from it. And since we are soon getting a new Earth Avatar series, we might as well start with the Earth Kingdom.

EARTH KINGDOM

First, let's consider the element of the nation itself and what it symbolizes.

Earth is not just the element of strength, but also the element of endurance and rigidity. In simple terms, it's a tough and stubborn element.

Also, Earth is a hybrid element, meaning it can be used in defensive and offensive manners easily.

Concerning its nation, it can be shown how citizens of the Earth Kingdom would more than likely be very conservative and adverse to any change or diverting from societal standards in the norm.

They're stubborn and stuck in their ways, so they may not react the most positively to displays of affection between same-sex couples. But, it can work in both ways.

As mentioned, Earth-benders and citizens, in general, tend to be very stuck in their beliefs, meaning if one were to have a more liberal position on the matter of social and romantic relationships, they would be just as defensive and stubborn in that belief as someone more conservative and traditional.

This goes back to my saying that Earth itself is a hybrid element. A mix of defensive and offensive tactics. Just as much as people way attempt to push their beliefs onto others, they're just as quick to defend their beliefs and ideals.

I'd also argue region/location within the Earth Kingdom is a major factor. If we're talking places like small villages or cities like Omashu in the animated version, you may be met with pushback and intolerance. But, places like Kyoshi Island where its founder was a lesbian so likely had very liberal beliefs concerning such topics. Also Omashu from the live-action since that version portrays Oma & Shu as a lesbian couple, and even Ba Sing Se since big cities are proven to attract a more liberal-leaning population.

But, interestingly enough, in the comics, it's stated that the Earth Kingdom is the slowest to accept change, and their default is still heterosexuality. Obviously, this comes from the rigidness and stubbornness of the Earth element itself. So even if Ba Sing Se has a more 'liberal' or rather "diverse" crowd, doesn't mean that crowd is automatically open to homosexuality. Ideally, the only known place in the Earth Kingdom where you could experience the most acceptance and grace from others would be Kyoshi Island

In summary, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the most accepting & embracing of homosexual relationships and 1 being the opposite, I originally was going to give the Earth Kingdom a 5, but remembering how it's stated in the comics that they are the slowest to accept change which checks out, they got bumped down to a 2.

It is a very big nation and thus has the potential to plant different seeds of belief and opinion, however, it's clear in the show how rigid and otherwise, unshakeable denizens of the Earth Kingdom can be. They have their beliefs, and they strongly stick to them.

Even with someone like Avatar Kyoshi who had to go and make a whole separate Island where she and her people could live in peace and prosperity without certain influences affecting them, they still have yet to come around to the idea that other people live with different interests and beliefs, and that there is truly no 'default' for even one person.

Acceptance Rating: 2/10

FIRE NATION

Starting with a focus on the element itself again, fire is the element of power, as described by Iroh. It can burn things in its path, but can also give life. In simple terms, it's an element of strong will and desire to expand and consume, literally and metaphorically.

Fire is also mainly an offensive element, with the capability of modifying certain offensive moves into defensive ones.

Its nation's citizens and benders heavily share these traits with their element. They tend to be willful and proud, and while that doesn't necessarily equal being close-minded, pride can very well lead to stubbornness.

This is evidenced strongly by the political government of the Fire Nation, with its monarchy power having complete and total influence and control over its citizen's lifestyles and choices. If one Fire Lord feels strongly about something and makes it into law, another Fire Lord can come two generations later and reverse and change it.

This is shown in the nation's history, where homosexuality was actually tolerated (I hate using that word) in the Fire Nation for a long time before Fire Daddy, ahem, I mean Fire Lord Sozin's rule. It was during his reign as Fire Lord that Sozin outlawed same-sex relationships and marriages among the Fire Nation and its citizens.

Some speculate it was due to the clear pressure he faced being the sole heir to the throne since his sister was born a non-bender, something that was frowned upon in the royal family. A potential heir to the Fire throne had to be a firebender, with no exceptions. Therefore, Princess Zeisan was allowed more freedom and control in her life than he was, as evidenced by her embracing Air Nomad culture and being confirmed as a lesbian.

It was common knowledge that Sozin and Zeisan had a very antagonistic and tense relationship with each other, despite them being siblings. They were pitted against each other from a young age which caused a rivalry between them. So, it's completely possible to speculate that Sozin implemented the law to spite his sister who fell in love with Sister Rioshon, an Air Nun.

it's also completely possible to theorize that Sozin harbored homosexual tendencies and feelings himself, especially towards his best friend, Roku we all know was the Fire Avatar before Aang. Again, his being a royal prince and next in line for the throne threw a wrench in this since Sozin was expected to marry a woman and produce an heir. So his potential feelings for his best friend could never be explored due to his duties and responsibilities to his nation.

So since Sozin couldn't have what or who he truly wanted, no one could, and thus, same-sex love and marriage were banned. And that didn't change no matter where you went in the nation unlike the Earth Kingdom where you could go from village to village and city to city and the rules would be completely different depending on where you were.

Again, fire is the element of power and will. And if it was the will of the Fire Lord to ban same-sex relationships in the nation entirely, then everyone had to fall in line. Meaning the door was opened for more conservative and traditionalist views to be voiced in opposition to same-sex relationships.

While some may have had differing beliefs and ideals, they more than likely had to keep it to themselves, especially among the nobility. This can lead to harboring feelings of anger and resentment, rather than love and acceptance, causing people to react harshly to any displays of such affection and behavior, just like Sozin.

As I said, fire as an element itself is primarily offensive in nature. Reflecting on its people, and especially its governing body, this is clearly shown by the notion that one person's opinion and belief can be pushed onto everyone around him if he or she so decrees it.

With that, the Fire Nation gets a 3/10 on the scale. Again, in the past, they were at minimum tolerant of it. which is not much if we're being honest. Tolerant actually is kind of insulting. But, after Sozin's rule, that tolerance more than likely dwindled and hasn't improved much following his reign as far as we know.

I'd like to think that Zuko as the Fire Lord, having seen much of the world and all its different dimensions and lifestyles people have lived, he'd at some point in his reign reverse the ruling, but that's a far-fetched hope knowing these writers and creators (no shade...mostly).

Acceptance Rating: 3/10

AIR NOMADS

Air is the element of freedom. It's flexible and lacks restriction, moving in any direction it desires. And because of its lack of constraint, it becomes easily adaptable in any scenario, whether it's evasion, offense, defense, etc.

However, the element of air is primarily and almost purely used as a defensive and evasive practice among its population, due to its nation as a whole choosing to live as pacifists. But, do not be misled. As mentioned, air as an element can be just as powerful offensively as it is defense-wise.

Just as their element, the benders of the Air Temples were very open and flexible people. As monks and nomads, they chose to forego many earthly and physical connections, seeking spiritual enlightenment. Because of this, there were never any non-benders in the Air Nomads.

Any child born from an Airbender was an Airbender themselves. Also, due to their style of life and spirituality, they were very adaptive to any situation they were placed in, making them very open to any and all change around them.

While they lived by the teachings of the monks and masters of the Air Nomads, they lived freely and openly, just like their element. The most restriction they had was as children or masters/monks that lived at the temples, males and females were not allowed to live together in the same space.

I'm not sure if this applies to temples as a whole as I've seen conflicting information. Some say the rule applies to temples as a whole, which would mean the Northern and Southern Temples were only inhabited by male Airbenders, and the respecting Eastern and Western temples were inhabited by female Airbenders.

But, I do remember a specific scene from Avatar, during the 2nd season when Appa was lost, and he had a memory of when he was a baby bison, and he and Aang met for the first time. I remember the monk facilitating this was a female Airbender, so that's why I'm not exactly sure what is concrete.

But, it does make sense as in many of Aang's flashbacks to his time at the Southern Air Temple, we mainly only ever saw male Airbenders. Thus, many have speculated that this specific rule would inadvertently encourage exploration and curiosity for these young Airbenders regarding their sexuality as they matured and eventually left the temples as adults and master Airbenders.

Also, on this, no child from the Air Temples was raised by their parents. They were only raised by the monks, enforcing that common belief and practice they all had. While they of course had their own identities, they were all taught the same thing from an early age, if an Adult Airbender met and had a child with someone from a different nation, that child likely being an Airbender would be sent to the Air temples to be raised by the monks.

All that to say, Airbenders would be the exact opposite of conservative. They technically wouldn't even be liberal since, again, they detach themselves from earthly limitations in favor of a higher spirituality.

So, since they don't subscribe to earthly practices or beliefs, they would be the most accepting nation of homosexuality and same-sex relationships. It's not in their nature or belief to judge others either so they wouldn't show any hostility or intolerance to LGBTQ+ people and relationships.

Just like their element, they practice freedom and adaptability to the world around them. And just as air is primarily used in defensive manners, they still will defend their beliefs and practices, they just avoid direct confrontation, preferring evasive maneuvers.

Just a quick note, the Air Nomads are what I like to think of as the example of how this world should have been. I read another column that detailed how the creators of the show ultimately created institutionalized homophobia because they couldn't imagine a world without it, and that's in large part due to the heavy influence of Western, colonial, Christian, and to be quite frank, European imperialism on the show's writing.

It's a fact that's becoming increasingly more well-known. Before European and Christian colonization/imperialism, many cultures and communities were not just accepting of same-sex relationships and LGBTQ+ identities, they embraced it! While there were definitely pedophilic relationships that were wrong and grotesque no matter what time period it was, same-sex relationships were just as normal as opposite-sex ones. There was no "default."

So in simple terms, the Air Nomads accept and embrace everyone, no matter who they are or how they live. As long as they don’t wrong and harm others, and even then, they see everyone as equal and deserving of respect and love. And that's what our society should be based on. Of course, they were killed off in an entire genocide, which, say what you will and think what you think, but the one culture that accepts and loves everyone as they are being killed off...ironic, don't ya think?

Acceptance Rating: 10/10

WATER TRIBES

Finally, water is the element of change. Like air, it adapts to its circumstances, but more fluidly and gracefully. Yet, unlike air, it relies on the flow of energy, turning its defense into an offense and back. In whatever scenario that sees fit, a Waterbender can change their liquid offense into a solid defense, or turn a solid offense into a gas defense.

This clearly makes the water an element suitable for either an offensive or defensive strategy. Its unique ability to change its form to fit its circumstances gives its user an extreme advantage in combat or any other risky scenario.

Now, even with this in mind, ironically enough, the people of the Water Tribe are not the most in sync with their element as far as when it comes to living standards.

While yes, in combat, they adapt and adjust accordingly to their needs and goals in the fight, in regular practice, they're more conservative and less open to change than you would initially believe.

Also, as confirmed in the LOK comics, while the Water Tribes are not openly homophobic, they are still lacking in accepting and embracing the concept that there is not one rule that applies to all when it comes to who they love. Which, when you think about it, checks out.

The Northern Tribe operated heavily off a patriarchal society as we saw in the first season, and it took Paku nearly getting his ass whooped by a teenage girl who was the grand-daughter of the woman he loved but refused to wed since it was arranged for them to start to change their ways. Even if the Southern Tribe was a bit ahead of their Northern counterpart in this sense, they still suffered from the restricting roles they placed on themselves concerning gender.

Giving props to Fire Nation and Air Nomads, they never had restrictive rules on who could fight in battle, even if the Nomads as mentioned tended to avoid conflict. However, the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes both practiced and thus, were limited by their rules that men were only allowed to serve in the army and in the guard.

Of course, we've already discussed the Earth Kingdom is the slowest to accept change, but for the Water Tribes, this is a bit unnatural, and if this is how they act regarding gender, it says a lot about how they would react when it comes to same-sex relationships.

So, it's understandable why Kya advises Korra and Asami to keep their relationship to themselves. But, I personally don't believe they should. Creating change means people are going to be uncomfortable. Oh well, boo-hoo, they'll get over it.

But, this does at least check out with the hybrid offense/defense nature of water bending. People of the Water Tribe will stand their ground and defend what they choose to believe in and love. And while they may not openly go out of their way to push their beliefs onto others like those in the Fire Nation, it doesn't mean they don't still have ways have doing so. Like water, I imagine their approach to such a subject can vary.

With that, Water Tribes get a 2.5/10. They're ahead of the Earth Kingdom in the sense that they've realized excluding women from fighting hurts them more than it helps them. Also, it's highly plausible that if a woman can learn how to fight, a man can learn how to heal, but I digress. However, they're still lower than the Fire Nation since this is less of a government-forced ideology and more of a societal norm they place on themselves.

Acceptance Rating: 2.5/10

I like doing analysis like this. If anyone thinks of other topics to discuss and do a deep dive into, send it in my asks!

[vindicated-truth]

Beyond Evil: The Romcom

I've always said that barring all the murder and mystery elements, Beyond Evil is at its core a romantic comedy, and here's the proof (aside from Hakyun and Jingoo themselves pushing the agenda lol):

Bear in mind that if this is a romcom, not a thriller, it means Everybody Lives ™ and No One is A Murderer ™

Our main protagonist is of course our eccentric small-town hero, Lee Dongsik, who's known for his quirkiness and idiosyncratic tendencies in solving crime. His unorthodox methods of catching criminals earns him the grudging respect of the Regional Investigation Unit, where he works under his mentor and beloved second father, Nam Sangbae.

The office is situated at the Seoul Metropolitan Government Office, where our hero meets the other male lead: Han Joowon, esteemed Inspector working in Foreign Affairs, renowned for his keen intellect, cold personality, and most importantly, the notoriety of his rich and powerful family.

A particular difficult case involving the disappearance of illegal immigrants forces Foreign Affairs and the RIU to work together, and an unlikely partnership between each department's best officer.

The second lead is our hero's longtime childhood best friend, Park Jeongje, whom Dongsik thought was initially in love with his twin, Yuyeon. Yuyeon liked Jeongje but not enough to give up her ambition for him, and when Jeongje left for the states, Yuyeon graduated from Seoul National University as summa cum laude and passed as the bar topnotcher.

Yuyeon had the brains, but unfortunately not the connections, and with her background AND her gender she found it difficult to prove herself at the law firm where she was hired, and goes head to head with the ambitious Kwon Hyuk.

Unbeknowst to Dongsik, he was actually the one Jeongje was in love with. Do Haewon finds out and she's against it because she wants Jeongje to have that traditional marriage with a traditional family because for Jeongje to come out of the closet would affect her image as a rising politician.

Han Kihwan, for his part, is seeing how his normally poised and law-abiding son is being pulled into questionable methods by Dongsik, and vows to separate their partnership.

Dongsik's and Joowon's begrudging partnership also leads Yuyeon's and Kwon's paths to cross more often, and a budding romance develops between the lawyers as the side couple.

Lee Changjin is still Oh Jihwa's ex-husband, and no matter how Dosoo tries to arrange blind dates for Jihwa, she turns them all down. Dosoo wonders why she doesn't have time to date if all she does is visit Jaeyi's butcher shop even after work.

Jaeyi herself gets questioned often by her mother and the ahjummas in town why she won't get herself a boyfriend, especially that handsome young officer from Foreign Affairs who keeps visiting, and she only smiles and doesn't answer every time she reserves a seat for Jihwa after work hours, just for the two of them.

Minjeong, meanwhile, sneaks behind everyone's back to date Jihoon, but Dongsik, overprotective of her ever since he became her legal guardian after her parents abandoned her, keeps getting in her way. It causes a tense friction between him and Jihwa, as Jihwa asks if Dongsik thinks her brother isn't good enough for his ward.

Jeongje of course, sees this as an opportunity to side with Dongsik, and it causes friction with his friendship with Jihwa as well, which also then causes friction between Jaeyi's friendship with Dongsik, and drama ensues.

Upon seeing how Dongsik is distracted by his mysterious new partner, Han Joowon, Minjeong takes it upon herself to make sure those two get together so Dongsik wouldn't focus all his attention on her and she gets to do what she wants. Hijinks ensue, especially when he ropes in Jihoon in her plans.

Somehow this leads to Minjeong and Jihoon accidentally discovering an international crime syndicate and they both get kidnapped for it, but not to worry because Everybody Works Together™ to save them and unravel the crime syndicate at the same time.

Han Kihwan and Do Haewon finally sees and understands Dongsik's true worth to both Joowon and Jeongje, and in the end, Dongsik asks Joowon if they can extend their partnership outside of work.

Jaeyi and Jihwa end up together, Yuyeon and Hyuk end up together, Minjeong and Jihoon end up together, and Jeongje comes to terms with his feelings for Dongsik and vows to be there as his best man.

At the wedding held overseas, Jeongje is reunited with Yuyeon, and tells him she wishes happiness for him too, someday. She and his twin brother will always be there for him no matter what.

At the reception, Dongsik introduces Jeongje to this new young officer: Lee Sangyeob. Sangyeob tells him he was Dongsik's former partner, and they spent the rest of the reception laughing and commiserating over Dongsik.

And they lived happily ever after. As they ALL should.