#she has seen him in despair she knows. she relates. its just the anime that is bland. it isnt trickstar's fault

[hitsuyou-fukaketsu]

I need everyone that follows me and has seen my downfall reading ensemble to watch this edit that I downloaded two years ago

[kiwibongos]

warning for ab/se & toxic relationships. and sdr2 spoilers duh

im thinking abt the remnants of despair. cause i hate how it just seemed to be like, "theyre suddenly brainwashed and then they turn evilll and they kill because they dont feel anything" like, i hate that. it feels so underdeveloped. it cant just be despair, it has to be deeper than that, i think it'd take personal angles and link with a lot of their own trauma, leaving them really vulnerable and deranged. so heres my own interpretation and headcanons for some of them

contains mikan, nagito, fuyuhiko, peko, akane, kazuichi, and brief analysis of the rest. keep in mind i havent seen the animes yet lol so this is a basic layer of it, but i just rly wanted to let this out cus i dont see it talked about. storing my brainrot here for later moments.

first of all i feel like the brainwashing would be a very slow process bc junko would definitely just manipulate everyone in her way to get what she wants. and by the time the world was plagued basically, all the remnants clearly had really unhealthy feelings related to junko specifically. they all love her, hate her, or praise her, but its all in very different ways that would be bc of their own personal backstories

we all know how mikan and nagito feel. mikan was constantly hurt by other people before junko herself, itd make sense for her to develop a very unhealthy attachment to her. mikan was extremely vulnerable and controllable, she would do anything for anyone and especially junko, just so no one is mad at her, hence why it got so twisted to the point where she wanted to keep a part of her inside forever. she wanted to be loved so badly, she would take whatever form of it she could. thats why it was so easy for junko to get her under her boot. now nagito has an odd love-hate relationship with junko imo (his mind is so messed up man) even if he praises hope in such a grossly obsessed way, the mf still TOOK her arm. i know he did it because he hated her so much and i guess to take power back, but i feel like because nagito had never really been loved, he wanted to try and feel what it could've been like out of some kind of confused desperation and fondness for her in a way, because his mind has no idea what those feelings truly are or what they mean, as hatred and love often get mixed up in his head and form this horrible amalgamation with whoever he meets, which is clear towards the survivors in the nwp anyway

fuyuhiko put junko's own eye into his own socket, and i feel like his relationship with her while in despair would be familial and extremely unhealthy. he is definitely one of the most fucked up to me. id say by my own headcanons though its heavily implied in his fte dialogues, is his parents are very ab/usive right from the start. fuyuhiko is messed up to all hell, he was constantly struck and under pressure but he had to be strong and perfect because he was the head of his clan, hence like his insane tolerance for pain. he had to make his clan, or more importantly his parents proud, or else he was a failure forever. so he clung onto that and did his best trying to be good enough for basically anyone. and even before despair he was in a really bad stubborn, mean, depressive state, leaving him far more vulnerable and more open to violent, impulsive actions as long as junko was smart enough to get him under her finger. fuyuhiko never knew what true love felt like (platonic or not), and when junko took advantage of all of that and he slowly fell into despair, shit hit the fan. he lost morality and he had come so attached to her to the point where junko was like a mother figure to him. he wanted her to notice him and be proud basically, it was moreso the idea of someone-- anyone-- being proud of him, but junko was his main focus of that by now, given his state. to him she was like the mother he never had, who seemed to be on the same terms with everything he had believed, someone who approved of him, so he wanted to make her proud, even if it was hurting him. fuyuhiko would keep digging himself a hole of desperation and self destruction, seeking more and more pain to test his endurance because it's what she wanted, and that became what he wanted, too, because pain is all he's used to. and because of that, makotos guess was right; he wanted to see her despair. it'd make sense he'd want to take a part of her, to see horrors she had witnessed so he could understand it, so she could be proud of him and part of him forever. he felt like if he did that, he would finally succeed, he'd achieve perfection, and he did. he'd done everything junko wanted him to do, while quenching his own thirst for violence itself, all via his own delusions. that was love to him and it felt real

as for peko she was definitely also treated the same in the kuzuryu family but more dehumanized obviously, so i think she'd feel a similar way; always needing to be good enough, but more specifically protecting the ones she cares about at all costs even if it results in bloodshed. i think she'd be a lot colder, forcing to suppress her feelings since she just has to follow fuyuhiko wherever he goes, and she was pretty much as insane as him as well so anything slid. i know peko doesnt want to be a tool, but she'd definitely succumb to the fact that she has to be one when they're under despair at the same time, and if she was going to be his tool, she has to be like a robot and just do what follows, because she didn't see herself as a person, her chance of being her own human was ripped away

as for akane, she grew up very poor, and didn't live a good life at all either (w/ definitely bad parents) but she always tried her very best taking care of her siblings in the past, despite everything. i think there was a lot of twisted familial love with junko whom she started to see as a sister despite being unrelated, just because of being a caretaker all her life, its just kind of instinct to protect anyone, but that just got mixed up as she fell into despair, and she would only protect junko, while chaotically killing anyone else in her way. she'd fight for her endlessly, she was one of the strongest, at least for a while, im thinkin she found her body and wanted to preserve it as much as possible by the end of everything, she still wanted to take care of her and do everything for her even if she had been too late. and with that, and barely any food in an apocalyptic world, the inevitable happens. akane would fall into a very hurtful spiral of self hate, that her starving was a sacrifice to junko so she could prioritize her first instead of herself, while also it being like a punishment to herself for her own failures and how she was failing to preserve junko

kazuichi always hated himself. he was bullied often, didn’t have a lot of friends going into high school, and he was very desperate for attention, especially from women. he’d be very notably attached to junko which would eventually evolve into romantic feelings, similar to mikan. he craved attention and validation so much, it left him very vulnerable, and kazuichi often grows attached to people who show him a sliver of kindness anyway, so junko would likely personally manipulate him and praise him, and they’d grow close, and he’d develop a very strong attachment towards her that derails into love and lust. and once he was influenced by her under despair, he would do anything for her. so, he’d get his hands on a lot of weapons, and go on mindless killing sprees, causing havoc 24/7 just to please her and keep her memory alive through despair. and deep in his mind, he probably truly thought that junko was his soulmate, that they were destined to be together, and he was fulfilling missions just for her, and in the end, they could be together

extra stuff i guess? as anyone would expect, sonia just became a corrupted leader and took advantage of her power under despair. her kingdom would try to keep her above it, but she’d fall into it somehow anyway, and probably had already been plagued by corrupt/unjust views by junko before, so she’d lead her people to worship junko the same way she does, and anyone who stood against it would be punished severely. mahiru falls into morbid curiosity because of junko and gets worse, given what she does with her camera, also both mikan and gundham would try to stitch junko up a little, and try to keep her from falling apart as long as possible. mikan is more likely to do that for her own twisted romantic purposes, but if gundham gets a hold of her before or after mikan, he would take her blood for himself, and most likely start a cult to worship her, all for like weird satanic purposes involving rituals and stuff. he’d also encourage his members or the other remnants to indulge in certain activities for the sake of praising her. gundham would probably even believe she was some demon from the underworld who granted him powers and chose him to carry on her legacy

also teruteru was just a little hungry. boys gotta eat

[starlightshadowsworld]

Danganronpa 3: Despair arc episode 5.

Thonks.

Into a flashback of kid Ryota being bullied by some kids.

Having rubbish tipped onto him as they call him dirty and taking photos.

Kids are scary man.

Poor Ryota.

And his parents suck, and he copes by watching cartoons.

This got way to relatable.

Cool seeing his set up and such but man he's so stressed which... yeah, shout out to all the artists and animators out there.

Ya'll are great.

Back to Chisa heading to the Reserve Course.

Aaand we don't see it, it's skipped over of course.

I get that it's her punishment and it's a downgrade from her usual class which she loves.

And I know kids can be asshole's.

But I just hate that teaching these kids is considered a punishment.

These kids are looked down upon by everyone at the main school, it's just sad seeing that everyone really was against them.

Hammering the point that any one of those kids could've become Izuru Kamakura.

And for teaching them Chisa was treated awfully for it.

It's werid seeing Juzo calmly talk to someone.

Chisa's heard about the Kamakura project, I think it's too late though.

This sounds werid but I'm kinda glad they're not gonna be able to save Hajime.

Because can you imagine if they got him out and saved him?

The Reserve Course would probably be shut down or something especially knowing where the funds for it were going.

Hajime would be more depressed than ever, and these guys are not the people to give the "You're more than a talent speech."

Unless it's Chiaki than its a whole other story.

But than they'd be seperated and Hajime is back to square one.

... Fuck is the good ending for Hajime bring tortured so bad he literally becomes someone else?

I mean it does get better, hopefully if the end of Danganronpa 2 is any sign.

But man that's sad.

Did not need to re-live Juzo beating Hajime.

Ohh so they covered up Hajime being involved by saying he's been expelled.

Clever.

And looking like Jin Kirigiri wasn't involved, as they say the other staff on the board run the school.

Idk if its better or worse he wasn't involved.

Because either way he's enabling it.

I really like the idea of him being in on it, but than regretting it.

Much like the Director, case of history repeating itself.

And that guilt playing into his actions in the first game.

And partly why he kept Kyoko at arms length, he didn't want her getting caught up into this.

But also knew if Kyoko was near him she would snuff out the project easily.

It's okay if he's not, just makes him both a bad headmaster and a bad father.

"Make sure you're students don't make the news again."

Oh you're in for a rude awakening.

But Nagito's gone missing.

Suspicious.

And we get a shot of the applications of the 78th class.

Hell yeah.

And Jin looking at Kyoko's. Incase we forgot she's his daughter.

... Chisa why would you want to be Munakata's anything nevermind beloved?

Sworn enemy maybe, but beloved?

Aww the class having a celebration for her that's so sweet.

And Chiaki planned it, and she's been holding the class together.

Love that for her.

Fuyuhiko pretending he doesn't care but he does.

Man I missed these guys, even though it hasn't been long at all.

Hiyoko got taller, holyshit.

Gundam and Sonia giving a toast in true Gundam fashion might just be the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

Ryota saying he has no time for friendship.

I get your busy man but you can't stop friendship.

It will find you, you will be friended.

And yes that is a threat.

... Wait a sec... That wasn't Ryota, that's Imposter?!

Twogami my boy! I was wondering where he was.

Awh he's been covering for and looking after Ryota.

That's so sweet.

"This show can't end till its characters get a redemption."

I hope so.

"People can flake you out but carbs are always there."

Same ol Twogami.

He's not wrong though.

A plane and a fancy car.

..... SHE'S HERE.

And she put a bomb in her purse, or her purse was a bomb.

Either way that limo is gone, heh unintentional rhymes.

Junko Enoshima has entered the building.

As fabulous as ever.

And of course she's narrating her own life and insulting Mukuro at the same time.

I like how Mukuro's voice is almost monotone, balancing out Junko's more loud upbeat voice.

Junko's narration including the tragedy, so she had this shit planned from the get go.

This afternoon in fact.

Man imagine joining secondary school like what are your goals?

Oh I'm gonna destroy the whole world.

Can't even call her overconfident because she did it.

Mukuro being... Infatuated? With Junko doesn't suprise me, mainly cos I've seen that clip of them in the limo before.

Without context.

But even than makes sense, they may be the despair sisters but Junko has always been the mastermind behind the whole operation.

And for Mukuro to go through and do this shit for Junko, yeah she's gotta care for her a lot.

... Maybe too much...

The fact they both talk while Junko casually tries to kill Mukuro, I guess that's how they bond.

Because if they wanted to, they could kill the other.

The only one who would and succeeded was Junko.

"What an affect my bloody corpse would have on her."

Honestly, yeah I think it would. Junko wouldn't have killed her if it didn't give her despair.

Love that Mukuro didn't even know about them going to Hope's Peak.

Once again Junko is the brains of the operation.

Love the friendship between Ryota and Twogami.

And it makes sense why Ryota is so focused and why he spends all his time on his talent.

It's all he had growing up he has to make it.

Has to.

Annnd Ryota passed out.

Poor guy.

Twogami, my dude there are better and easier ways to get someone to help you.

Rather than just grabbing Mikan and dragging her away.

Poor Mikan.

So Twogami realised he was struggling and got him to stay with him.

That's sweet.

Probably wasn't the best idea given it enabled him to overwork himself so much.

But still sweet.

I'm sad we don't get to know his name but I guess that's the point.

I like to think if he had one, Ryota knew it.

... AHHHH MAKOTO!!!

My boyyy!!

I didn't think we'd see him in the despair arc, or at least this early but here we are.

Oh Makoto, look at how happy and not traumatised he is.

Savour this moment.

His little pep talk to himself.

Annnd Junko's here narrating about her plan and drawing Monokuma.

Imagine telling her the random kid before her is the one who's gonna defeat her.

"Who knows maybe fate will drop someone into my lap."

Oh it will... And there he is.

Hi Hajime.

And incase we didn't know if already, Juzo's verbal and physical best down of Hajime was the final nail in the coffin and why he agreed to do the project.

Fuck you Juzo.

"You'll be fine."

... No... No he won't.

[kuniicou]

I've seen a couple text posts talking about Danganronpa and their dirty writing of Korekiyo Shinguji. Those people are right, but I don't think the damage is *too* bad and has a pretty easy fix. 

Before I get into specifics, know I'm not talking about the mess that is his trail. I'll bring it up briefly tho. 

Danganronpa has an intriguing way of writing its characters. Each one is written to be the protagonist of their story. As every character has "anime protagonist syndrome", generally they have some type of heavy trauma, but with the exception of Ultra Despair Girls(Warriors of Hope) every character doesn't seem to realize their own struggles. 

With small exceptions like Chihiro's getting stronger arc or Sonia being like "ruling a kingdom is a little stressful" most Dr characters don't realize the harm that's been done to them or are very casual about it. 

With the character not seeing their struggle as trauma or that bad, the narrative treats them in the same way. 

Example: Mondo Owada, in his trial it's revealed he killed his brother. Looking at the situation most fans say he *didn't* kill his brother, but because Mondo's perception is that he did the story follows his narrative. 

Danganronpa does this for every character. 

This approach to writing is really good, but if not done correctly drastically hurts characters. Most Dr characters have unique trauma so it's not as noticeable, ie, Kiyotaka, Hiyoko, Celeste. But the ones with heavy (more realistic/more relatable) trauma shows more, like sexual assault. - to my memory three characters have sexual assault as apart of their backstory, Mikan, Akane, and Korekiyo. 

Mikan has the whole fanservice deal where she needs attention at any cost, but I think she knows what she went through wasn't her fault. To a degree at least(?) - Akane, to my memory, is closer to Korekiyo's case where she doesn't know the abuse she suffered was abuse.(I'll get back to the front tails thing). 

Writing Korekiyo as he doesn't know it was abuse in *any* capacity is fitting for who his abuser is. He's open minded to the fault of his safety and he trusted her so why would they ever hurt him? But because he doesn't think it was abuse, the narrative follows his perception. 

To offset this and any characters that fall into this trap would be to have the protagonist recognize something isn't right. - In Kiyo's FTE he barely talks about his sister(probably to not tip people off to the twist) but to fix his issue Dr would have had to talk about her. They could leave out their relationship dynamic but they could talk about her personality. How controlling she was, how Kiyo would give into any demand because she was sick, how she was older than him, so then Shuichi/Keade could go "His sister seems very controlling but he seems happy with that arrangement." Or "I could never hang out with someone like that, I don't know how he does." 

The protagonist recognizing the behavior as weird is what saved Akane(besides her trauma not being the case) when she was going off about front tails Hajime was put off. Showing that someone sees that something isn't right. .

Okay. It can't be ignored. His trail. - It was dumb. The writers wanted to show off the twist of incestuous siblings but to do that his motivation would have had to be his sister, but wait, why would he suddenly be killing for her now after years of not? I KNOW! He was always a serial killer; he was just waiting for the right moment to strike! - I'm convinced the team couldn't think of a reason to tie her into the narrative so this was the best they could come up with. (Also in their picture together Kiyo needed to look younger than he does in the game. His timeline is one of the most convoluted, I swear.) 

Tldr: Korekiyo just suffers from being too subtle. The writers needed to focus a bit more onto his sister and most issues would have been fixed. Also he's not a serial killer, which makes no sense to his character. 

[duckielover151]

Despair Arc Review

Well, there's no hope of this one being spoiler free, because what I mainly want to talk about is the linchpin that holds the plot together. This Despair Arc is a great example of how brainwashing is an acceptable answer sometimes… but not in all cases.

First things first, I've really been enjoying these 3 season threes so far. But enjoyment isn't always enough for a recommendation. I have to classify this one under 'Mixed Feelings,' because the Danganronpa franchise has always had one big issue… That issue being that you really can't enjoy it properly without going all in. You have to play the games AND watch the anime to get the whole experience. And I believe an adaptation should be able to stand alone, so that's a failure on its part.

You can technically get the whole story of the first game through the season one adaptation… but in a way that's really rushed and unlikely to endear you to the characters the way the game does. (Made a whole separate review for that season, so I'll try not to repeat myself here.) But the second game never got an anime adaptation, and I really don't think you can properly enjoy this arc without already knowing these characters through the game. Feel how poignant it was to step back in time and see the happier days where they all started, knowing that it all falls apart… But the reveal at the end of game two that the flawed but loveable group of kids we'd gotten to know through the simulation was actually our main villains spurring on the world's destruction out in the real world made them super intriguing. It definitely got me excited to see exactly HOW it all falls apart. Which brings us back to the brainwashing.

So. When is brainwashing okay?

For the nameless, faceless lackeys who jumped on board? Sure. The story's plausibility was always a bit of a weak point in the games. They literally just brush over it when the apocalypse is introduced at the end of the first game, don't even try to give you an explanation, because they clearly couldn't find a way to make Junko's followers make sense. Mass brainwashing kind of makes sense. (Though, for the other members of the reserve course specifically, the school's attitude and policies were truly fucked up. I feel like there was enough fuel on that fire that brainwashing wasn't exactly necessary but… Nameless, faceless. Enough said.)

For a character like Chisa, who really embodied hope? Okay. There was no believable way that Junko was going to win her over. And it became important to the rest of the story even happening that Chisa be convinced to defend her to Munakata, convince him that she wasn't behind it after all.

But for the rest of the class, the Remnants of Despair? Absolutely not. It's really important to note that the group of kids in the second game felt more openly flawed than the kids from the first game. For a lot of people, that just made them more relatable, was part of the reason why the second game was so well-loved. The characters were more rounded and just more interesting overall. But they were flawed as hell, practically bubbling over with their various insecurities. Many of them had been abused so regularly throughout their lives that they didn't even realize that they deserved to be treated better. I have never seen a group more ripe for being manipulated. So to fall back on a deus ex machina like brainwashing for THEM? Unforgivable. I get that they probably didn't have time to show Junko winning each of them over… but the material was there. They should have made time for it.

That aside, I did really enjoy the Despair Arc as a whole. There were a few other flaws. The way they chose to characterize Mukuro was really disappointing. And I'd really hoped to see more of Junko and Mukuro interacting with their class but… not enough time. I get that. It was satisfyingly brutal. I liked seeing the drama with Fuyuhiko's sister's death play out and learning how it influenced Hajime's actions and mindset. And Chiaki's death was wonderfully horrifying. The Danganronpa franchise may have its flaws… but it's never been one to pull its punches, and I love that about it.

[marthacrijns]

'The horse and the cow, the rabbit and the cat, the deer and the hare, the pheasant and the lark, please us better as friends than as meat. We wish to preserve them either as respected fellow-workers, or simply as companions in the joy of life and friendship.'

Men of such high standing in hygiene and biology having made a profound study of questions relating to normal food, I shall take good care not to display my incompetence by expressing an opinion as to animal and vegetable nourishment. Let the cobbler stick to his last. As I am neither chemist nor doctor, I shall not mention either azote or albumen, nor reproduce the formulas of analysts, but shall content myself simply with giving my own personal impressions, which, at all events, coincide with those of many vegetarians. I shall move within the circle of my own experiences, stopping here and there to set down some observation suggested by the petty incidents of life.

First of all I should say that the search for truth had nothing to do with the early impressions which made me a potential vegetarian while still a small boy wearing baby-frocks. I have a distinct remembrance of horror at the sight of blood. One of the family had sent me, plate in hand, to the village butcher, with the injunction to bring back some gory fragment or other. In all innocence I set out cheerfully to do as I was bid, and entered the yard where the slaughtermen were. I still remember this gloomy yard where terrifying men went to and fro with great knives, which they wiped on blood-besprinkled smocks. Hanging from a porch an enormous carcase seemed to me to occupy an extraordinary amount of space; from its white flesh a reddish liquid was trickling into the gutters. Trembling and silent I stood in this blood-stained yard incapable of going forward and too much terrified to run away. I do not know what happened to me; it has passed from my memory. I seem to have heard that I fainted, and that the kind-hearted butcher carried roe into his own house; I did not weigh more than one of those lambs he slaughtered every morning.

Other pictures cast their shadows over my childish years, and, like that glimpse of the slaughter-house, mark so many epochs in my life. I can see the sow belonging to some peasants, amateur butchers, and therefore all the more cruel. I remember one of them bleeding the animal slowly, so that the blood fell drop by drop; for, in order to make really good black puddings, it appears essential that the victim should have suffered proportionately. She cried without ceasing, now and then uttering groans and sounds of despair almost human; it seemed like listening to a child.

And in fact the domesticated pig is for a year or so a child of the house; pampered that he may grow fat, and returning a sincere affection for all the care lavished on him, which has but one aim — so many inches of bacon. But when the affection is reciprocated by the good woman who takes care of the pig, fondling him and speaking in terms of endearment to him, is she not considered ridiculous — as if it were absurd, even degrading, to love an animal that loves us?

One of the strongest impressions of my childhood is that of having witnessed one of those rural dramas, the forcible killing of a pig by a party of villagers in revolt against a dear old woman who would not consent to the murder of her fat friend. The village crowd burst into the pigstye and dragged the beast to the slaughter place where all the apparatus for the deed stood waiting, whilst the unhappy dame sank down upon a stool weeping quiet tears. I stood beside her and saw those tears without knowing whether I should sympathise with her grief, or think with the crowd that the killing of the pig was just, legitimate, decreed by common sense as well as by destiny.

Each of us, especially those who have lived in a provincial spot, far away from vulgar ordinary towns, where everything is methodically classed and disguised — each of us has seen something of these barbarous acts committed by flesh-eaters against the beasts they eat. There is no need to go into some Porcopolis of North America, or into a saladero of La Plata, to contemplate the horrors of the massacres which constitute the primary condition of our daily food. But these impressions wear off in time; they yield before the baneful influence of daily education, which tends to drive the individual towards mediocrity, and takes out of him anything that goes to the making of an original personality. Parents, teachers, official or friendly, doctors, not to speak of the powerful individual whom we call “everybody,” all work together to harden the character of the child with respect to this “four-footed food,” which, nevertheless, loves as we do, feels as we do, and, under our influence, progresses or retrogresses as we do.

It is just one of the sorriest results of our flesh-eating habits that the animals sacrificed to man’s appetite have been systematically and methodically made hideous, shapeless, and debased in intelligence and moral worth. The name even of the animal into which the boar has been transformed is used as the grossest of insults; the mass of flesh we see wallowing in noisome pools is so loathsome to look at that we agree to avoid all similarity of name between the beast and the dishes we make out of it. What a difference there is between the moufflon’s appearance and habits as he skips about upon the mountain rocks, and that of the sheep which has lost all individual initiative and becomes mere debased flesh — so timid that it dares not leave the flock, running headlong into the jaws of the dog that pursues it. A similar degradation has befallen the ox, whom now-a-days we see moving with difficulty in the pastures, transformed by stock-breeders into an enormous ambulating mass of geometrical forms, as if designed beforehand for the knife of the butcher. And it is to the production of such monstrosities we apply the term “breeding”! This is how man fulfils his mission as educator with respect to his brethren, the animals.

For the matter of that, do we not act in like manner towards all Nature? Turn loose a pack of engineers into a charming valley, in the midst of fields and trees, or on the banks of some beautiful river, and you will soon see what they would do. They would do everything in their power to put their own work in evidence, and to mask Nature under their heaps of broken stones and coal. All of them would be proud, at least, to see their locomotives streaking the sky with a network of dirty yellow or black smoke. Sometimes these engineers even take it upon themselves to improve Nature. Thus, when the Belgian artists protested recently to the Minister of Railroads against his desecration of the most beautiful parts of the Meuse by blowing up the picturesque rocks along its banks, the Minister hastened to assure them that henceforth they should have nothing to complain about, as he would pledge himself to build all the new workshops with Gothic turrets!

In a similar spirit the butchers display before the eyes of the public, even in the most frequented streets, disjointed carcasses, gory lumps of meat, and think to conciliate our æstheticism by boldly decorating the flesh they hang out with garlands of roses!

When reading the papers, one wonders if all the atrocities of the war in China are not a bad dream instead of a lamentable reality. How can it be that men having had the happiness of being caressed by their mother, and taught in school the words “justice” and “kindness,” how can it be that these wild beasts with human faces take pleasure in tying Chinese together by their garments and their pigtails before throwing them into a river? How is it that they kill off the wounded, and make the prisoners dig their own graves before shooting them? And who are these frightful assassins? They are men like ourselves, who study and read as we do, who have brothers, friends, a wife or a sweetheart; sooner or later we run the chance of meeting them, of taking them by the hand without seeing any traces of blood there.

But is there not some direct relation of cause and effect between the food of these executioners, who call themselves “agents of civilisation,” and their ferocious deeds? They, too, are in the habit of praising the bleeding flesh as a generator of health, strength, and intelligence. They, too, enter without repugnance the slaughter house, where the pavement is red and slippery, and where one breathes the sickly sweet odour of blood. Is there then so much difference between the dead body of a bullock and that of a man? The dissevered limbs, the entrails mingling one with the other, are very much alike : the slaughter of the first makes easy the murder of the second, especially when a leader’s order rings out, or from afar comes the word of the crowned master, “Be pitiless.”

A French proverb says that “every bad case can be defended.” This saying had a certain amount of truth in it so long as the soldiers of each nation committed their barbarities separately, for the atrocities attributed to them could afterwards be put down to jealousy and national hatred. But in China, now, the Russians, French, English, and Germans have not the modesty to attempt to screen each other. Eyewitnesses, and even the authors themselves, have sent us information in every language, some cynically, and others with reserve. The truth is no longer denied, but a new morality has been created to explain it. This morality says there are two laws for mankind, one applies to the yellow races and the other is the privilege of the white. To assassinate or torture the first named is, it seems, henceforth permissible, whilst it is wrong to do so to the second.

Is not our morality, as applied to animals, equally elastic? Harking on dogs to tear a fox to pieces teaches a gentleman how to make his men pursue the fugitive Chinese. The two kinds of hunt belong to one and the same “sport”; only, when the victim is a man, the excitement and pleasure are probably all the keener. Need we ask the opinion of him who recently invoked the name of Attila, quoting this monster as a model for his soldiers?

It is not a digression to mention the horrors of war in connection with the massacre of cattle and carnivorous banquets. The diet of individuals corresponds closely to their manners. Blood demands blood. On this point any one who searches among his recollections of the people whom he has known will find there can be no possible doubt as to the contrast which exists between vegetarians and coarse eaters of flesh, greedy drinkers of blood, in amenity of manner, gentleness of disposition and regularity of life.

It is true these are qualities not highly esteemed by those “superior persons,” who, without being in any way better than other mortals, are always more arrogant, and imagine they add to their own importance by depreciating the humble and exalting the strong. According to them, mildness signifies feebleness : the sick are only in the way, and it would be a charity to get rid of them. If they are not killed, they should at least be allowed to die. But it is just these delicate people who resist disease better than the robust. Full-blooded and high-coloured men are not always those who live longest : the really strong are not necessarily those who carry their strength on the surface, in a ruddy complexion, distended muscle, or a sleek and oily stoutness. Statistics could give us positive information on this point, and would have done so already, but for the numerous interested persons who devote so much time to grouping, in battle array, figures, whether true or false, to defend their respective theories.

But, however this may be, we say simply that, for the great majority of vegetarians, the question is not whether their biceps and triceps are more solid than those of the flesh-eaters, nor whether their organism is better able to resist the risks of life and the chances of death, which is even more important : for them the important point is the recognition of the bond of affection and goodwill that links man to the so-called lower animals, and the extension to these our brothers of the sentiment which has already put a stop to cannibalism among men. The reasons which might be pleaded by anthropophagists against the disuse of human flesh in their customary diet would be as well-founded as those urged by ordinary flesh-eaters today. The arguments that were opposed to that monstrous habit are precisely those we vegetarians employ now. The horse and the cow, the rabbit and the cat, the deer and the hare, the pheasant and the lark, please us better as friends than as meat. We wish to preserve them either as respected fellow-workers, or simply as companions in the joy of life and friendship.

“But,” you will say, “if you abstain from the flesh of animals, other flesh-eaters, men or beasts, will eat them instead of you, or else hunger and the elements will combine to destroy them.” Without doubt the balance of the species will be maintained, as formerly, in conformity with the chances of life and the inter-struggle of appetites; but at least in the conflict of the races the profession of destroyer shall not be ours. We will so deal with the part of the earth which belongs to us as to make it as pleasant as possible, not only for ourselves, but also for the beasts of our household. We shall take up seriously the educational rôle which has been claimed by man since prehistoric times. Our share of responsibility in the transformation of the existing order of things does not extend beyond ourselves and our immediate neighbourhood. If we do but little, this little will at least be our work.

One thing is certain, that if we held the chimerical idea of pushing the practice of our theory to its ultimate and logical consequences, without caring for considerations of another kind, we should fall into simple absurdity. In this respect the principle of vegetarianism does not differ from any other principle; it must be suited to the ordinary conditions of life. It is clear that we have no intention of subordinating all our practices and actions, of every hour and every minute, to a respect for the life of the infinitely little; we shall not let ourselves die of hunger and thirst, like some Buddhist, when the microscope has shown us a drop of water swarming with animalculæ. We shall not hesitate now and then to cut ourselves a stick in the forest, or to pick a flower in a garden; we shall even go so far as to take a lettuce, or cut cabbages and asparagus for our food, although we fully recognise the life in the plant as well as in animals. But it is not for us to found a new religion, and to hamper ourselves with a sectarian dogma; it is a question of making our existence as beautiful as possible, and in harmony, so far as in us lies, with the æsthetic conditions of our surroundings.

Just as our ancestors, becoming disgusted with eating their fellow-creatures, one fine day left off serving them up to their tables; just as now, among flesh-eaters, there are many who refuse to eat the flesh of man’s noble companion, the horse, or of our fireside pets, the dog and cat — so is it distasteful to us to drink the blood and chew the muscle of the ox, whose labour helps to grow our corn. We no longer want to hear the bleating of sheep, the bellowing of bullocks, the groans and piercing shrieks of the pigs, as they are led to the slaughter. We aspire to the time when we shall not have to walk swiftly to shorten that hideous minute of passing the haunts of butchery with their rivulets of blood and rows of sharp hooks, whereon carcasses are hung up by blood-stained men, armed with horrible knives. We want some day to live in a city where we shall no longer see butchers’ shops full of dead bodies side by side with drapers’ or jewellers’, and facing a druggist’s, or hard by a window filled with choice fruits, or with beautiful books, engravings or statuettes, and works of art. We want an environment pleasant to the eye and in harmony with beauty.

And since physiologists, or better still, since our own experience tells us that these ugly joints of meat are not a form of nutrition necessary for our existence, we put aside all these hideous foods which our ancestors found agreeable, and the majority of our contemporaries still enjoy. We hope before long that flesh-eaters will at least have the politeness to hide their food. Slaughter houses are relegated to distant suburbs; let the butchers’ shops be placed there too, where, like stables, they shall be concealed in obscure corners.

It is on account of the ugliness of it that we also abhor vivisection and all dangerous experiments, except when they are practised by the man of science on his own person. It is the ugliness of the deed which fills us with disgust when we see a naturalist pinning live butterflies into his box, or destroying an ant-hill in order to count the ants. We turn with dislike from the engineer who robs Nature of her beauty by imprisoning a cascade in conduit-pipes, and from the Californian woodsman who cuts down a tree, four thousand years old and three hundred feet high, to show its rings at fairs and exhibitions. Ugliness in persons, in deeds, in life, in surrounding Nature — this is our worst foe. Let us become beautiful ourselves, and let our life be beautiful!

What then are the foods which seem to correspond better with our ideal of beauty both in their nature and in their needful methods of preparation? They are precisely those which from all time have been appreciated by men of simple life; the foods which can do best without the lying artifices of the kitchen. They are eggs, grains, fruits; that is to say, the products of animal and vegetable life which represent in their organisms both the temporary arrest of vitality and the concentration of the elements necessary to the formation of new lives. The egg of the animal, the seed of the plant, the fruits of the tree, are the end of an organism which is no more, and the beginning of an organism which does not yet exist. Man gets them for his food without killing the being that provides them, since they are formed at the point of contact between two generations. Do not our men of science who study organic chemistry tell us, too, that the egg of the animal or plant is the best storehouse of every vital element? Omne vivum ex ovo.

Elisée Reclus / On Vegetarianism *1901

(translation Edward Carpenter)

[n1kolaiz]

"You want to know what death is? I'll tell you. Death is the loss of life. Despite everything doctors like me attempt... a patient's life can still fall through our fingers. You think death lies in the apex of science? Anyone with such little regard for life will die by my hand."

Character Analysis: Yosano Akiko

Age: 25 || Ability: Thou Shalt Not Die

BSD CHAPTER CHAPTER 65-66 SPOILERS

table of contents:

1. Author counterpart.

2. Yosano's history.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

YOSANO BRAINROT!*(#&!*@#($

1. Author counterpart.

Having been given the “Sho Ho” at birth, Yosano Akiko’s counterpart—the real-life author—was known for her zealous take on both feminism and pacifism.

Side note: Once again, to avoid confusion, I will use the name Sho Ho in reference to the real-life author, and Yosano in reference to the BSD character.

Sho Ho's writings were pretty much out-of-the-ordinary in her time, and despite being suppressed by the social norms of gender hierarchy, she sought to reform society’s view on the cultural perspectives of women and their sexuality (She expressed her love for a woman in one of her poems, but many still argued on whether she identified herself as queer or not.)

"Thou Shalt Not Die," Yosano's ability, is actually named after one of Sho Ho's most famous, controversial poems. She wrote it for her brother, who was a soldier in the war between Russia and Japan (1904-1905). In her poem, she expressed her general distaste for war and how her brother was a part of it.

O my young brother, I cry for you Don't you understand you must not die! You who were born the last of all Command a special store of parents' love

Would parents place a blade in children's hands

Teaching them to murder other men Teaching them to kill and then to die? Have you so learned and grown to twenty-four?

- excerpt from Sho Ho's poem, "Kimi Shinitamou Koto Nakare"

Her words were blunt enough to inflict guilt on her brother's conscience, as she wasn't afraid to express her disapproval over how her brother took part in the typical violent bloodshed and manslaughter of war. Such opinions perturbed the authorities, and her work was eventually banned from the public for a period of time. Later on, it was used as an anti-war statement.

2. Yosano's history.

Now, as for the character in BSD, Yosano is seen to be generally strong-willed, and later on, we see that she is terrifyingly compassionately ambitious in the way she treats her patients. She treasured life itself, and hated the thought of losing a patient.

Yosano had developed her relations with Mori Ougai back in the Great War, when she was just 11 years old. Her ability was a great benefactor in saving lives. Realistically speaking, she was used for her ability to heal injured soldiers and diminish the effect of any casualty acquired.

Initially, she wasn't aware of this, until one of her close friends pointed it out by subtly accusing Mori of manipulating her to participate in the War under the close-to false pretence of 'saving lives.'

As much as her ability did save lives, it also forced soldiers to return to the frontlines and suffer injuries over and over again. The soldiers were never given the opportunity to return to their families because of her ability. This obliged them to carry on in the war without any excuse, inserting them into a vicious cycle they had no escape out of.

Metaphorically speaking, Yosano's hatred for Mori sort of mirrors Sho Ho's disdain for war and fighting, don't you think? The way Kafka materialised Yosano's past was quite interesting because he used chapters 65 and 66 to explain Yosano's dislike for Mori, reflecting how Sho Ho used her poem to explain why she condemned the idea of war and how her brother was part of it.

Before the effect of her ability was fully understood, however, every soldier praised and thanked her for what an angel she was. One of the soldiers she had befriended and gotten close to even kept a tally of the number of times she had saved him. He was the one who gifted her the butterfly hairpin she wore all the time.

The weight of the truth that her ability was a curse rather than a blessing fully dawned on her when her soldier friend ultimately committed suicide, because the fact of being indefinitely trapped in the throes of war agonised him until his spirit gave out. This drove Yosano to loathe her ability, or rather, how it was used.

In the time she participated in the War, Yosano was given the alias 'angel of death' due to the control she retained over the battlefield, but I thought that perhaps Kafka had a reason behind giving her this title, so I did my research.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

Side note: I wouldn't want to disrespect any culture or religion, so if my citations are inaccurate and/or disrespectful, do feel free to correct me/let me know! I did research out of pure curiosity, and I don't intend to twist the significance of any of the interpretations.

I had to grow up learning about the basics of religious stuff, so it's kind of nice to study something out of the box, and very much against my father's rigid belief system :D

ARCHANGEL ARIEL

(archangel: an angel of higher rank)

I came across the few characteristics of angels/goddesses and their roles, and the one which really caught my attention was the female archangel, Ariel, the angel of nature.

[ source ]

In Hebrew, the name Ariel means 'altar' or 'lioness of God,' and her role is to heal. In addition to that, she is also recognised as a helper to another one of the seven main archangels, Raphael, whose role is to provide physical and emotional healing, too.

She is the protecter of the environment and the animals therein, and is bestowed with the duty to oversee the order of heavenly bodies as well as earth's natural resources. She assures the sustenance of food, water, shelter, and supplies of human beings, much like how a nurse is to a patient I suppose.

In relation to Yosano, I think this part is pretty self-explanatory, or perhaps this is blown out of proportion HA, so take this as a suggestion rather than a fact, because I'd like to believe that Kafka had a reason for giving Yosano a title as such.

In the past, I've come across the angel of death only to perceive it as a female grim reaper of some sort, so it was pretty cool to find that the word 'angel' and 'death' made up a title of a someone like Ariel, one of the purest forms of humility and compassion.

GREEK GODDESS PANAKEIA

For my beloved (wannabe/or not) students of Greek mythology (much like myself, let's make a cult!), you've probably heard of Panakeia, the goddess of healing. Medicine finds most of its vital significance in Greek history, and in its mythology, Panakeia is actually known for her ability to heal any kind of sickness.

[ source ]

Her name means 'panacea,' which is actually defined as a remedy for all diseases. Terminal diseases and injuries lead to death, right? This would bring us back to Yosano's ability to nullify any injury's effects on a person, keeping them from death itself.

Now, we know that in order for Yosano's ability to work, her patient, or victim, has to be in a near-death condition in order for her treatment to take effect. This can't exactly fit into the description of resurrection, but it can be described as some sort of rebirth.

GREEK GODDESS PERSEPHONE

So another goddess which reminds me of Sho Ho/Yosano, is Persephone, the goddess of spring and rebirth. Before Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with Persephone to take her to live with him, Persephone lived a happy life.

Hades, with his nature of darkness and the like, was captivated by how pure Persephone was, and stole her away from her former life to live in an environment which differed sharply from her natural aura of purity.

[ source ]

Remember when Yosano's friend left a note behind before he killed himself? The note said nothing except for, "You are too righteous." Take that as you will, but figuratively speaking, you could say Mori takes the role of Hades in the story, while Yosano can be portrayed as Persephone.

Sho Ho can also be a parallel of Persephone, in that she had to adapt to the realities of war and disharmony, while Persephone had to adapt to the raw darkness of the underworld with Hades.

Sho Ho stood against society's norms and decided to reform it, making her one of the most well-known feministic pacifist in history, while Persephone managed to escape from the underworld to return to her former position, earning the title the 'Bringer of Life,' or the 'Destroyer of Death.'

Furthermore, the way Sho Ho's anti-war poem took its effect later on, reflects the way Persephone restored balance in the world after returning from the underworld.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

chapter 66; Yosano: "It's my fault that those close to me died... Is there some place where it's okay for me to live?"

chapter 8; Atsushi: "If I have any chance of saving them all, of returning them home safely, would that mean it's okay for me to keep on living?"

I couldn't help but think of Dazai and Atsushi back when I was reading through these panels. Ranpo (my beloved), along with Fukuzawa, accepted Yosano as she was, despite how her ability was a cause of despair and misfortune.

Ranpo looked past her mistakes and the entirety of how dark her past was to welcome her into the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, on the other hand, knew who Atsushi was and what his ability had made him do before anyone else, and still decided to provide a safe place for Atsushi to find his sense of belonging, journeying with him as he learned to use his ability properly.

For more info about Dazai and Atsushi's dynamic, you can check out the analysis I did for Dazai :D

Atsushi desired to save people to prove his right to live, while Yosano made her wish to achieve the recovery of all her patients the reason for her existence.

Others would prefer to accuse both Yosano and Atsushi of having a saviour complex, but the reason why they pursued to save people with utmost dedication, stems from the nature of what their past was like. You know the saying 'from broken to beautiful?' Yeah, it's something like that.

The way their pasts were written out gave them a desire to change, which was, I daresay, initiated by the people who took them in: Ranpo and Dazai. Their abilities were demonised because of how they were used, but once they broke from their abilities' effect over their lives, they honed their skills to control them for the right cause instead.

In a less cynical point of view, I believe both Yosano and Atsushi stood for what was right, and wanted nothing but to achieve peace and harmony in whatever way they could, even if it meant risking their own lives to save others.

So yeah, that's it for my rants today. Thank you for reading, and if you have anything to add, go ahead! I'm open to discussions ;)

[brightly-painted-canvas]

How does it feel? (drabble, The Old Guard - Andy & Nicky)

I had this vignette sitting in my heart for a few days and I figured out I should write it down before I ended up losing its warmth. I am a sucker for fics about Andy’s and Nicky’s relationship and this is somehow a small attempt at describing how they communicate, even over a difficult topic like mortality.

.

It’s morning. Early and quiet.

Andy is sneaking inside the safehouse from the back door, sure she’d be the only one up at this hour until she rounds the corner and sees Nicky at the kitchen table, kneading bread with swift but vigorous movements.

She quickly considers her options: Nicky has for sure noticed her already, so heading toward her room without saying ‘hello’ doesn’t sit right. She also had wanted a cup of coffee to wash down the stale taste of alcohol sitting under her tongue after a long night of cheap drinks, so the kitchen had to be a brief stop before hitting the bed.

 She quietly steps inside, scanning the situation: flour stains are all around the main surfaces, the oven is already turned on and a fragrant smell of sweet baking cookies is filling the air of the small room.

Nicky doesn’t even lift his head, he just fixes his big, pale eyes on her and smiles that minute smile of his.

“Coffee?” he asks, his deep soothing voice still rough with sleep.

Andy nods once and Nicky is already moving, briefly wiping his hands on a clean dishrag before reaching the cupboard for a mug. The family-size moka he insists on keeping in almost all the safehouses they use more frequently is already filled with blessedly warm, bitter coffee.

She sits on one of the kitchen table’s chairs, near the momentarily abandoned bread dough.

Once he has placed the mug in front of her, she grins and says: “You’re a saint.”

He snorts.

It’s an inside joke between them: she doesn’t believe in anything holy. He doesn’t anymore (maybe).

But if there ever was anything worth calling sainted in Andy’s long life, it would always somehow be related to her Nicolò.

He wouldn’t agree, of course.

  Nicky gets back to his task of kneading bread to perfection, quiet and precise, like all of his movements.

Andy sips her coffee and enjoys the silence, the brief interruptions dictated by the oven’s ticking and the bread’s slamming over and over on the table’s board.

She observes Nicky’s profile like she has done so many times before, noticing his somehow always disheveled hair having grown a bit too long, the dark circles under his eyes having deepened in the last months, enhancing the tiny white scar under his left eye, the one connected to the cut on his mesophrium and over his right brow.

He was never specific about his life before his first death, but Andy somehow knows the story behind that long scar. She remembers the feelings she had in reaction to that lighthearted confession he uttered: disbelief and outrage.

After all her years wandering the Earth, that tiny information still had her despair about humanity, its obstinacy in bringing suffering to its own, repressing and oppressing what is pure and good and beautiful.

What she hates the most has always been feeling powerless in the face of injustice.

But if Nicolò may once have been a scared, vulnerable boy, he wasn’t anymore.

Andy’s gaze lingers on his strong arms, his wide shoulders, the set of his angular jaw, the muscles moving under his pale skin: he is a remarkably powerful man now, her brother. A forever 30 years old warrior who died in his prime, never to be seen aging and wilted if not for many, many years to this day. And not by her, it seems.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, breaking their prolonged silence.

Nicky hums, a singular small sound, affirmative.

“What’s on your mind?” she follows, knowing all too well it’s pointless: Nicky never answers these questions if he can avoid it, if it’s someone else other than Joe asking, if Joe somehow doesn’t know already.

This time as well, he shifts his gaze to meet hers and smiles, tiredly but reassuringly.

Andy prides herself to be able to read all her brother’s tiny reactions, unsaid truths, hidden emotions: Nicolò may be the hardest one to read, but she has always managed.

She doesn’t know it as deeply as Yusuf, but she understands his core in her own way.

She uncurls her hand from around the mug’s handle and places it upon Nicky’s dusted with flour’s one, which immediately stills over soft bread dough.

Their eyes are still locked and Andy thinks back at all the times she had read deep into these pools of grey mist and green waters, threading out his emotions like a Moira spinning a seafoam yarn.

When he’s this particular type of quiet, unguarded and open, she can read him like a well-known piece of poetry, an ancient song.

“How does it feel?” he asks, and Andy feels like flinching, but he already has his warm hand turned, cupping her smaller one, resting the tips of his fingers on her wrist like it’s a casual position, not a subtle way to feel her life pulsing.

Oh, she thinks. Oh, my sweet one.

They hadn’t had time yet to talk about any of it.

They had to run and hide and let the dust settle, had to decide over the consequence of Booker’s actions, had to figure out Copley, had to wait for her to heal for the first time in forever, had to care about Nile.

Nicky had only had time to exhale a tiny sigh while still strapped on a medical bed, give his wise speech over immortality (wasted on the obtuse mind of an already dead man), ask her if she felt like facing yet another tiring battle.

He had accepted everything that came after with his usual grace, his absolute faith: trusted her leadership without faltering once over almost one thousand years, shielded her with his body like it was meant to be used that way, sacrificed yet some more pain, another death, to survival.

They had yet to talk about it, like they always do somehow in some way at some point, the two of them.

In their long, silent moments shared, just like this one, they always end up talking about what matters the most.

“I feel finite.” she replies, smiling privately at her beloved little brother.

He smiles back and Andy knows he has tricked her once again: he has let her in only to be able to see her in return, to gaze into her soul. Her clever, smart little brother.

She truly envies how effortlessly he manages to do that.

“It’s good.” she adds. She lifts her hand from his soft grip, caressing up his arm to his shoulder, the side of his face, the tip of his too long ash brown hair.

He lets her touch him gently, strokes the skin under his eye with her thumb, and holds the side of his head in her palm.

You are mine: my kin, my family, she tells him, through her silence. I will leave you, but you’ll always have me. I am right here.

“Finally.” she sighs, contentedly, conveying her calmness with her touch, the long awaited peace to her eternal inner turmoil now right there, close to the surface: she has a time now.

She doesn’t have to long for an end that never comes, anymore.

  His smile is a blessed thing, once again: a brief glance at unfiltered grace, the purity of a cherished soul she saw growing, learning, mending, finding its purpose and balance.

She is old and tired, but her love for this one will always bring her back to her primitive emotions, her loyalty, her animal instinct of offering and receiving protection.

She often recalls with amusement having been worshipped as a god, in the past: she had with Nile, right after meeting her. She sometimes thinks about what those ancient, forgotten people would had said and done for her Quỳnh, her Yusuf, her Nicolò. Her Sébastien and her Nile.

She’s sure they would have fallen for this remarkable man’s eyes like they did with hers, with his secret smiles and gentle voice. Worshipped his proud profile and handsome body in a manner that would have made Yusuf bristle with jealousy, exactly like he did back in the Renaissance, when a bit too many artists had their greedy eyes on the classical features of the other half of his soul.

She chuckles low, lost in her silly thoughts. Nicky doesn’t ask, but looks glad to see mirth on her face.

  The oven rings and Andy lets her baby brother go with a last stroke of his soft hair. He moves his head just enough to place a small, grateful kiss on the skin of her fingers.

“Let me get you those biscotti, they should be perfect with coffee.” he says, turning around to open the oven: warmth engulfs the tiny kitchen and Andy is sure it won’t take long for Joe and Nile to wake up now, following the sweet scent of food with rumbling stomachs, like the puppies they not-so-secretly are.

It means her quiet time shared with Nicky is coming to an end.

She accepts a plate of still hot cookies with a satisfied hum that turns into a shameless moan once she tastes the first one: “You’re my favourite!” she exclaims, like she often does in these cases.

“You don’t have favourites, remember?” he smirks, getting back to his softened bread dough.

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.” she smiles with mischief, gulping down some more coffee, as heavy steps start resounding from the floor above them, down the stairs, and Joe’s voice calling for his husband heralds his appearance at the kitchen’s door.

.

Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for any mistake, English is not my first language.

I’m on Ko-fi!

[hauntedziosportrait]

The Relativity and Connections between Jamaasian Lore and Mirabai

WARNING! ⚠️ Very religious themes. I apologise if I have any incorrect or outdated information, it's very risky writing about something surrounding a certain religion when in fact.. I'm an atheist.

The lore of Jamaa has always been a really tricky and fairly eerie topic to cover. It has themes from all sorts of different cultures and despite the main tale being retold, changed and edited one thousand times, the information we receive is clear about who the certain deities and characters are and what their roles to play give.

Today, we're looking more on the more eerie side of Animal Jam- The relationship between Mira and Zios. Surprisingly, we know more about our enemies the phantoms than we do the entities we're serving. Alot has been told about Mira, but on the other hand, not much information has been provided about Zios and his identity making him more or less a very suspicious character to take heed of. That's why there are so many theories regarding him specifically; the most we know is that...

●He is the spiritual highest point of the Jamaa heiarchy, having created Mira and setting the stars and planets in motion

●He is often depicted as a bodyless golden mask surrounded by intricate patterns and grooves

●He was the lover of Mira

●He dissappeared at some point in time and never came back.

To jog your memory, I'm going to be basing this theory more on the Old Jamaasian Lore. Interestingly, the lore was changed to make it appealing to a younger audience, but in the old lore we get a stronger sense of emotion and alot more information about the guardian spirits of Jamaa.

Zios is practically a God. He sets several plants, stars and seas in motion. Eventually he gets lonely and gives life to a deity said to be the perfect incarnation of humble beauty; a graceful grey heron named Mira. Mira and Zios get on well together and she often tells him how talented and artistic he is.

Eventually, Zios falls for her, and creates a beautiful land for he and Mira to share; Jamaa- as a sign of his love.

Mira is ecstatic and suggests and creates the idea of giving live to mortal inhabitants to the land- us, the animals. However, Zios gets a little snappy at Mira for that. He meant for this place to share just between the two and for nobody else to interfere.

He then snaps at Mira for creating the Animals and the two fall into a fearsome and emotional argument. Mira's tears then, without her knowing, come into accidental contact with the mortal world. Since she is an omniscient deity, mixing such power with normal life would end in ruin- Thus creating the phantoms.

Here's the catch. Mira and Zios are too wrapped up in their argument to notice the phantoms attacking Jamaa. Since the phantoms were created by Mira, they would only obey her. That is why they are after Zios, to avenge Mira. Also a case why we never see the phantoms target Mira specifically.

Then, they notice the peril Jamaa is in and, still angry at eachother, select the powerful and strong remaining animals in their selective tribes as Alphas to defend.

Shortly after, Zios goes missing. We're told the phantoms took him through the phantom portal never to be seen again. However, there is alot of evidence to suggest he fell victim to the phantoms and gave in to their side, furthermore taking control of the Phantom Empire. That may be why, despite their goal being reached, they continue to harass and attack the alphas, Jamaa, and by extent, Mira.

From then, the Alphas succeed, and all is well. Zios, however, is never heard of again.

Despite their argument, Mira is eternally upset. That is why phantoms keep producing, due to her tears. Since Zios left angry at Mira, it may be an extra that she thinks Zios left hating her.

And... That is what is inferred from the old lore. The new lore consists of less knowledge about Mira and Zios, but more information about the Alphas and of course the animal heartstones.

Now, here is the thing. The tale of Jamaa is very familiar sounding to some people. Zios is often seen as omnipotent and very powerful. He's often seen as similar to several different gods in mythology..

●Zeus, the Greek god of sky and thunder (This one is self explanatory, even their names are similar: however I've seen this one cause a bit of controversy as this is comparing Zios to a technically VERY problematic god.. Also, Mira sounds alot like Hera!)

●Viracocha, the great creator deity in the pre-Inca and Inca mythology in the Andes region of South America. He's mainly mentioned in incan and mesopotamian mythology as the high creator god (and this one shares more similarities than you may think!) They both had lovers, both dissappeared after creating the world, both had similar powers (examples of heliokenesis) and they actually look REALLY similar, most likely Zios' design being based off of Viracocha's golden armor. Viracocha pictured below!

●And the last one... Krishna. An important religious figure in Hinduism and the final reincarnation/eighth avatar of Vishnu.

And that last one is what I'm planning to talk about today!

The perhaps most important part of this theory is Mirabai. Mirabai, often called Meera or Mira, was a 16th-century Hindu mystic poet and devotee of Krishna. She was known for her elegant beauty and poetry, as well as her eternal devotation to Krishna.

Meera pictured below as well as a figure of Krishna in the distance.

Surprsingly, we have our own Mira too. And if we're comparing Zios to Krishna, this relationship makes alot of sense. Meera was in love with Krishna, and Mira was in love with Zios. "In her last years, Meera lived in Dwarka or Vrindavan, where legends state she miraculously disappeared by merging into an idol of Krishna in 1547. While miracles are contested by scholars for the lack of historical evidence, it is widely acknowledged that Meera dedicated her life to Lord Krishna, composing songs of devotion and was one of the most important poet-saint of the Bhakti movement period." That paragraph was taken from Meera's Wikipedia entry, and relates alot to the story of Mira and Zios. Its said that Meera one day miraculously dissappeared just like Zios did and they only things she left behind were her poems, music, and of course, her devotion and husband-like considered relationship between her and Krishna.

Krishna pictured below.

Most of Meera's poems are dedicated to God in the form of Krishna, calling him the Dark One or the Mountain Lifter. "Some Meera songs include Radha, the lover of Krishna, and her jealousy and hatred for them. All her poems have philosophical connotations, mainly centered around Krishna."

The "Dark One" and "Mountain Lifter" terms are certaintly strange. Why would somebody refer to a "Dark One" in such a loving term?

Lets not forget the example of Zios not only representing the light in most cases, but spiritually, representing the dark. There's alot of evidence to actually suggest instead of the common thought that Zios represents the Sun and Mira the Moon, it may actually be the vice versa in a yin yang sort of way. Light and Dark cannot coexist without eachother and Zios and Mira are a great example of that.

I may explain the Zios is the moon thing a different time but you're going to have to roll with me here on this one... Zios is a perfect representation of the dark. Dark gives space and life to the light, but of course light always gives life to the dark.

Also, "Mountain-Bearer"... Not much to say here. Quite literally what Zios did to create Jamaa. "In her poems, Krishna is a yogi and lover, and she herself is a yogini ready to take her place by his side into a spiritual marital bliss. Meera's style combines impassioned mood, defiance, longing, anticipation, joy and ecstasy of union, always centred on Krishna."

Let's take a look at perhaps the most well known poem by Meera... And perhaps the one that relates the most to Jamaasian Lore. I am aware Julian2 has covered this in a video before, but here im going to take a proper analysis.

My Dark One has gone to an alien land. He has left me behind, he's never returned, he's never sent me a single word. So I've stripped off my ornaments, jewels and adornments, cut my hair from my head. And put on holy garments, all on his account, seeking him in all four directions. Mira: unless she meets the Dark One, her Lord, she doesn't even want to live.

— Mira Bai, Translated by John Stratton Hawley

Alot to process here. Let's see what we can compare.

●"My Dark One has gone to an Alien Land"-  Zios= Krishna: has gone to the realm of the phantoms/alien land

●"He's left me behind, he's never returned, he's never sent me a single word"- Exactly what Zios did. Never responded to Mira and didn't speak to her again after his dissappearance.

●"So I've stripped off my ornaments, jewels and adornments, cut my hair from my head"- Julian2 suggested this may be about Peck running away but this has been outdated. This could possibly refer to the "jewels and adornments" being the Alpha stones as Mira gives them away.

●"And put on holy garments, all on his account, seeking him in all four directions."- This refers to Mira yet again giving the alphas their Alpha Stones and after that she prepares to go out and find Zios.

●"Meera: unless she meets the Dark One, her Lord, she doesn't even want to live."- Unless Mira doesn't meet her Dark One- in this case, Zios-she doesn't feel the will to live, referencing her sorrow and despair without him.

I'm not sure about you, but I'm very convinced AJHQ may have based their lore on this poem specifically.

There is another poem that can relate to the legend of Jamaa, but there's not much to infer. I'm not going to do a thorough line by line analysis, but hopefully looking back on the analysis I just did you can atleast gather some stuff.

After making me fall for you so hard, where are you going? Until the day I see you, no repose: my life, like a fish washed on shore, flails in agony. For your sake I'll make myself a yogini, I'll hurl myself to death on the saw of Kashi. Mira's Lord is the clever Mountain Lifter, and I am his, a slave to his lotus feet.

"Meera speaks of a personal relationship with Krishna as her lover, lord and mountain lifter. (Sanson Ki Mala Pe Simru Main Pi Ka Naam) is written by Meera Bai Shows her dedication towards Lord Krishna. The characteristic of her poetry is complete surrender." -Quote from Wikipedia

The song of Sanson Ki Mala Pe Simru Main Pi Ka Naam is an interesting one-referring to her "beading the name of her beloved on the garland of my breaths". Interestingly, this song refers to Krishna as a Cuckoo Bird- A little bit of a crack theory, but this may suggest Zios could actually be the same behind that mask of his?

Examples of this bird-referring lyric are this quote from that same song:

"He is a melodious bird

He is a magnificent man

This foolish girl has taken

The beloved’s heart as the Lord"

I will link the full song plus English translation below!

https://www.google.com/amp/s/ekta25.wordpress.com/2011/06/23/sanson-ki-mala-pe-simroon-main-pi-ka-naam-on-the-garland-of-my-breaths-i-have-bejewelled-my-beloveds-name/amp/

Intresting... Perhaps Zios IS some sort of bird!

In conclusion, Mirabai's poetry, devotion and songs have alot of connections to Jamaasian Lore! I find this interesting, but this did help us gather quite a bit of information!

[mimik-u]

“Change Your Mind” Re-watch:

I’ve been dealing with this feeling on and off ever since I started “Diamond Days” earlier this week, but dang, I’m a little sad that I’ve reached the end of the show again. Of course, I’m excited to visit the movie again and see Future for the first time (!!!), but this episode above all really marks the end of an era. But things end and things change.

That’s the thesis of this episode anyway. And really, the nature of this beautiful show. :’)

Steven’s dream sequence is so haunting, both in terms of it explicitly showing us how Blue Diamond is currently recapitulating the very same cycles which pushed Pink away by showing us such a similar flashback from the past, but also by dredging up the horror of Pink’s memories. The idea that Steven’s gem still has access to some of his mother’s memories is used to its most visceral effect here, in which we get a nightmare heightened lens of how miserable she was, and often times, scared.

When the Diamonds stretched out their grieving hands through the cosmos and towards the world their youngest member loved, how did Rose feel to at once get a confirmation that she had been loved? Loved so powerfully that the Diamonds would try to destroy an entire planet to exact their revenge, and yet, at the same time, loved so terribly that they would never think twice about doing so, or that it took this for them to ever show it?

“This... isn’t normal. How many times did you lock her in here? How many times did you make her cry?” / “I didn’t... I... And I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” God, this exchange always undoes me. Not only is it Steven calling Blue out, but in a way, it’s him standing up for his mother, realizing what misery the Diamonds put her through and putting a name on it for Blue to recognize, contend with, and finally, accept. Blue tries to defend herself at first, but then, in the end, can’t. Because there’s no defense. There’s no excuse. And to horribly mangle a quote from Legend of Korra, by reaching that lowest point, Blue Diamond finally becomes open to the possibility of change.

It’s always so evocative to me that she collapses next to the tower window that’s at her eye level. Never explicitly stated, I think it really is implied here that Yellow and Blue have seen their fair share of this tower before, too, their trespasses of decorum excised out of them by White. In return, they tried to do the same to Pink. Cycles and cycles and cycles.

Gsleidjsneioeis, it never fails to make me laugh that Yellow is just sitting in the darkness, straddling her throne, waiting for Blue. Emo ass. I love her.

The Diamonds both look so shocked when Blue slaps Yellow’s hand away, as though neither of them can fathom, process, and believe what just happened. And yet, really, this is the climax to the schism between them that we’ve known since “That Will Be All.” They love each other—they loved Pink—but they have differed, fundamentally, on how to grapple with the pain of loving someone and losing her and existing from then on.

“When we thought Pink was shattered, when she abandoned us, I alone was there for you, and you would use your power against ME?” GO OFF, PATTI LUPONE EIEOSJSA. But this line gets me, too. Jesus. Yellow loves Blue so much.

“Didn’t we hurt Pink? She was suffering in silence for ages, just like our gems, just like me. And I know you’re suffering in silence, too.” HHHHHHH, AND THIS LINE. I think it’s significant because it’s Blue making a move we’ve rarely seen from her before—empathy. Her whole complex is that she’s been so lost in her own emotions that she forces them on everyone else, but here she does something monumental; not only does she acknowledge her own pain, but she uses it to recognize that others have been hurting, too. She and Yellow hurt Pink. (She makes herself and Yellow the agents of the action, therefore not evading the blame.) And so many of their gems have been hurt, too. Yellow has been hurting.

In her vulnerable expression that follows, it’s clear to the audience that Yellow knows her fellow Diamond’s words to be true, but she’s not ready to accept their veracity, to look inwards at the heart of her own misery. Also, help. I’m only 9 minutes into the episode.

“Does this look perfect to you?” And Yellow’s anger is stopped in its tracks. She looks immediately to Blue, literally smoking on the ground from the force of her attack. A fragment of palace crumbles emptily away. And this is the crux of the Homeworld Empire. It demands every gem, from the Diamonds downward, to sacrifice in the name of of perfection. But they’ve placed too much of an emphasis on appearance, numbers, quantity, and power, never interrogating the consequences that pursuing these ‘impressive’ entities bring: misery, hopelessness, despair.

“Stop... stop it, Blue. Stop using your power on me.” / “I’m not.” Hhhhhhhhh, I’m tender. And then, when Blue Diamond sweeps over to hold Yellow’s head?????? This is what being a Bellow Diamond fan is all about, okay rieososossnjaaj.

“You’ve made a grave mistake. Go to your rooms!” / “Uh, which rooms should we go to?” GJKHDFVHJNJJ. But yeah, White has definitely used the tower on Blue and Yellow b4.

Bismuuuuth, Lapis, Peri!!! God, I love Lapis’s outfit so much.

“Yellow and I will keep White distracted.” / Just go! Go! Hurry! She’s getting up!” Blue and Yellow know that in making this choice, they’ll face severe consequences, but still initially make the choice anyway.

And yet, Steven doesn’t let them make that choice. He doesn’t run away. Because he and this show fundamentally believe that change is effected through communication.

I still have thirty minutes of this episode left to go oskeodjsnsnsk, but now I need to symbolically talk about the Diamond mecha. It’s very on point that White’s ship can’t function if the other parts aren’t cooperating!!

The Diamonds finally expressing their vulnerabilities to the blankly staring ship is just so sad. They’re finally doing the emotional work that they’ve been neglecting for thousands upon thousands of years, and they’re almost literally meeting a wall.

“We Diamonds might be hard, but we’re also brittle.” / “I know my purpose isn’t to be happy.” Hhhhhhhhhh, these lines. The rigidity of the Diamond Authority has forced Yellow and Blue to become hard, to be unhappy. They, like all their gems, are suffering beneath the strain. Starting from the way it literally drains a planet of resources, this empire was never sustainable.

Cries bc the Diamonds are holding hands, AND THEN CRIES BECAUSE THEY’VE BEEN VIOLENTLY AND PAINFULLY PUPPETEERED.

THE FUSING MONTAGE!!! EKSSKSJ, I love how when he goes to fuse with Pearl, he does a few ballerina moves. AND I LOVE HOW 2.0 IS UNREPENTANTLY BRITISH. IT’S SO FJNNY AND RIGHT.

“AH! Steven, we fused!” She’s so happy!!!!!!!!!! Hhhh!!!!!

“I’m here. I love you.” Steven says this before fusing with Garnet, and there’s nothing else that could have ever been so fitting for a fusion who prides herself on being here and being made, so beautifully and entirely, of love.

Sunstone always looks and sounds like they’re two seconds away from breaking the 4th wall on a Sunny D commercial from the 1990s, and that’s amazing.

OBSIDIAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNN. Everything about them is FUCKING EPIC. (Also, if you haven’t listened to the S5 soundtrack yet, you need to go listen to Obsidian’s track without background noises!!!!!!! It’s so motivating! I listen to it when I’m studying sometimes!)

I’m still soft about Bismuth giving Connie her own sword. Let them b sword buddies 2k20.

BIG FYCKING LAVA SWORD!!!!

The animation on this episode is absolutely insane. God, the Crewniverse did so good.

“Poor Yellow. Her impurities absorb all the blue in her light. She’s so strong, but so weak when it comes to Blue.” 😭😭😭 What do you mean I’m still emotional over the fact that Yellow Diamond’s one perceived weakness is Blue? Hahahaha.

“Ah, and Blue. Her impurities soak up all the warmth in her spectrum. She thinks she needs you, Pink.” 😭😭😭 She needs Pink to be warm.

“But you’re a part of me, the part I always have to repress.” White doesn’t yet realize it, but this is actually her revealing her own flaw. Not only does she repress her love for Pink, but she represses her own sense of pinkness, too. So cerebral and so detached, she’s allowed herself to exist for these past 6,000+ years in the gaping maw without Pink as a being who has subjugated the entirety of her emotional expression. Just as Blue and Yellow are equals and opposites, so too, were Pink and White.

“Insecure, dependent, obsessed.” God. Another thing about White Diamond’s powers in relation to Pink is that White has the capacity to know a gem’s thoughts once she possesses them, whereas Pink was able to relate and empathize with their emotions. And indeed, that’s how Steven came to know and help the Gems’ problems over the course of the entirety of this show—through empathy, relation, compassion, and understandings, concepts so foreign to White Diamond. Simply alien.

POV: You’re Connie Maheswaran, and you have to fight a possessed bastardization of the Gem who once lovingly taught you everything you know about how to wield a sword.

White Diamond so simply and so precisely plucking Steven’s gem out of his stomach is the single most terrifying visual on this show. Jfc.

“SHE’S GONE.” The animus of the Pink Diamond gem prmordially screams the truth that White Diamond refuses to accept. Pink is gone. There’s no undoing death. There’s no separation from gem and body. There is only, just as there has always been for fourteen years, Steven.

He is not, and never will he ever be, his mother.

Oh, my God. This show.

And just as White Diamond parting Steven from his gem is the scariest moment in the show, Steven reuniting with him is the most transcendent. He laughs. He hugs himself. He dances. Because Steven Universe is entirely his own being.

And he loves himself. That is the crucial part. That is the beginning and the end and the resolution. Oh, my GOD. This show.

“I am a child. What’s your excuse?” KWIDIDOSJSKSKSISOSMA, GET HER.

Steven walking over to comfort Pink Pearl, even though he doesn’t know her, even though the only iteration he has seen of her has been her lobotomized version—forbidding and detached—is so tender.

WISOSJSJS, I know this is emotionally deep and indicative of just how ingrained their psychological complexes are that they don’t know how to deal with vulnerable expressions of emotion, but White, Yellow, and Blue being so dramatic about White blushing is honestly hilarious.

Sadie singing “Let Me Drive My Van into Your Heart” is so good, but what’s even better is that two second shot of Greg blushing listening to his song being sung. ;-;

Oh! Oh! And Barb is in the audience! Character development! Growth!

“No more hiding! No more running! No more Diamond Authority!” KWOWOEJDKDOSJSJSISSJSJ.

Lion padding up to Lars in a silent recognition that they’re the same ;-;-;-;

I think Sadie and Lars reuniting with such drastically different appearances and mindsets is simply just one of the coolest ways this show has come full circle. This show’s about everyone changing. Look at these two. Look at where they started, and now, where they’ve begun again.

Genuinely crying at the last few shots of the show again. Oh, my GOD. The pure, unmitigated joy. Nephrite and Steven. Bismuth and Biggs. Garnet and Pearl. Jasper and Amethyst. The Diamonds.

This show really is about love and forgiveness and healing, y’all. 😭😭😭😭

AND THEN THEY COMPLETE THE SHOT FROM THE INTRO. I AM UNWELL. IT’S 8AM.

This show, in every sense of the word, is a miracle.

Thank you, Crewniverse for this comet of epic proportions.

[thenightling]

The Sandman: A Game of you (A summary of the plot from someone who actually read the thing...)

I have seen a lot of misconceptions floating around Tumblr about the plot of The Sandman: A Game of You, mostly thanks to an old Mary Sue article that seemed to deliberately take the plot out of context to make it look transphobic.   Some people on Tumblr have even said “I love Sandman but I won’t read A Game of you because I heard about what’s in it.”   Neil Gaiman, himself, even received an ask here on Tumblr about the story’s “problematic” content because the person who wrote the ask legitimately thought the story said trans women cannot use magick in The Sandman universe.   I have even seen transphobes claim Neil Gaiman is on their side for this reason.

According to Neil Gaiman he wrote A Game of you while being consulted by trans friends, one in particular, who heavily became the basis for the character Wanda. 

The first version of The Dreaming (Sandman spin-off comics) and The House of Mystery Volume 2 (Also a Sandman spin-off) were written by Caitlin R. Kiernan. (a transwoman).  That’s right.  Neil Gaiman left The Sandman franchise in the care of a transwoman.  

  Now, let’s begin...

______________________________ 

The Sandman: A game of you (summary)

First we need to go backward into The Sandman. The main character of The Sandman is Morpheus AKA Dream of The Endless. The Endless are a family of anthropomorphic personifications.  That means they are living embodiments of certain concepts.  For example Morpheus, also known as Dream has an older sister who is Death.  She’s essentially the Grim Reaper.  

Note: Death is older than Dream (Morpheus) but looks younger by at least a decade. The family consists of Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and little Delirium (She used to be Delight but she went mad).   Most of Sandman is the story of Morpheus and what happens to him.   The place to begin is Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes.    

The first story to feature Hazel and Foxglove (though Foxglove’s other name, Donna, is given much earlier in the series) is The Sandman: A Game of You.   Donna AKA Foxglove had been in an abusive relationship with a girl named Judy.  After their breakup Judy had been murdered (issue 6 of The Sandman, within Preludes and Nocturnes, the issue is called 24 Hour Diner).  

Donna took the name Foxglove as a stage name as she wants to be a rock musician. She falls in love with Hazel.    The two are housemates with Wanda (a transwoman who ran away from a very transphobic hillbilly family), Barbie (a pretty and slightly eccentric makeup artist and dreamer trying to rebuild her life after a failed romantic relationship with a man named… I kid you not, Ken), and Larissa, also known as Thessaly, a nerdy looking and stand-offish woman who turns out to be a powerful and slightly-homicidal witch from ancient Greece.   There’s also an old man named George who turns out to actually be a Nightmare spy for a creature called the Cuckoo (more on that later.)

I’ll give the plot of The Sandman: A game of you first and then tell you the full plot of Death: Time of your Life.   The two connect.

In The Sandman: A game of you we learn that Barbie had a Labyrinth-esue fantasy world (Think of Jim Henson’s The Labyrinth) that she would escape to and lucid dream of all through her childhood and early adulthood but she had not been there in a long time.  We (readers) met Barbie earlier in The Sandman: The doll’s house when she had been dating Ken and in that story we see the first glimpse of Barbie’s fantasy world.  

Now her childhood anthropomorphic animal friends miss her and worry about her and were terrified of the activities of The Cuckoo (The main “bad guy” of her fantasy world).   One of the creatures (who greatly resembles Ludo from Labyrinth but is articulate) enters the real world where he is unfortunately killed.  He tried to warn Barbie of the bad things happening in her fantasy land.

Things start to get weirder.  That night everyone has anxiety based nightmares.  It turns out Hazel is pregnant from a one night stand that she regretted and didn’t know how to tell Foxglove so this is the basis for her nightmare.  Foxglove has nightmares about her abusive and deceased ex, Judy.  Wanda is having nightmares about transphobia.  She has not medically transitioned and she worries that others feel she does not count as a woman unless she has the surgery.  She’s actually terrified of surgery and affirms herself in the dream that even without the surgery she IS a woman.

After everyone has terrible anxiety dreams and most confront their nightmares they wake up to find things are strange in their home.   First Hazel confesses her indiscretion to Foxglove. Foxglove forgives her and they decide to raise the baby together.

Larissa finds George, realizing he was the cause of the nightmares, and kills him. She uses his remains to find out what is really going on.

Barbie, however, will not wake up.   She has been sucked back into her Labyrinth-esque fantasy.

The friends, finding out that Larissa is really an ancient and powerful witch known as Thessaly, decide to go on a rescue mission into the realm of dreams (known as The Dreaming) to save Barbie.

Thessaly gets revealed as being a TERF (this was written in the 90s so the term didn’t exist yet), claiming her magick will not work for Wanda since she’s not a “real woman” and besides, someone needs to stay behind to protect Barbie’s body.

Thessaly opens a way by the moon’s magick to get herself, Hazel, and Foxglove into Barbie’s fantasy world.

While that’s going on a storm is unleashed by Thessaly’s use of magick.  The storm causes heavy winds and trees to uproot.  Wanda sees a homeless old woman in trouble.  It’s a woman who had previously been nasty to her.   Wanda saves her life but dies in the process.

In Barbie’s dream the heroes find a magical gemstone called the Porpentine (actually a rose quartz dreamstone, a magical stone that Dream AKA Morpheus uses as a conduit for his power. His main one, for a long time, was a ruby.  Think of it like a magick wand).   They destroy the porpentine, which is actually what the cuckoo wanted.

The Cuckoo had accidentally gotten trapped in Barbie’s dream many years before and though they feed on imagination she wanted her freedom.   The destruction of the dreamstone alerts Morpheus (Dream) who comes to see that the skerry (The island that was Baribe’s fantasy world) is no longer needed.

The island had actually been created many centuries before for a former lover of Morpheus’ known as Alianora.  Alianora could not return to her old life but wanted a place of her own when they broke up so Morpheus had given her the island. The dreamstone powered its magick.  The island would exist so long as the dreamstone did.   For many centuries after Alianora passed away the island had been the plaything of many young woman dreamers.  

Morpheus absorbs the island and all its characters back into himself.  And has a brief private conversation with Alianora’s ghost, comforting her by assuring her that her island had been home to many dreamers after her.

Morpheus allows the Cuckoo to fly away (which is all she really wanted), but Thessaly had wanted to kill her for all the trouble she had caused them.  Morpheus prevents this.  

Morpheus tells Foxglove, Hazel, and Thessaly that they should not have physically entered The Dreaming.  That this is against nature.   Barbie may wakeup but the rest are trapped.   However, he does owe Barbie a boon for destroying the dreamstone- giving the power back to him that had long since been stored away in the jewel.  This is a bit of a con on Morpheus’ part, because he got her to ask that her friends be returned to the waking world as her boon.  This was Morphesus’ sneaky way of getting out of being in debt to her.

One by one they are returned to the waking world.   And Morpheus and Thessaly become lovers (but she later dumps him, saying he cares too much about mortals, which surprises him because he used to be a very cold, and aloof bastard and he doesn’t like facing that he’s changed.)

Barbie attends Wanda’s funeral but unfortunately it’s hosted by Wanda’s redneck family who keep misgendering her.  Cut off Wanda’s hair, put her in a suit, and deadname her on her headstone.  Barbie writes Wanda’s real name on the headstone in lipstick.  

Barbie also has a very strange dream where she sees Wanda with the delicate, feminine, features she had always wanted but was too scared to get the surgery to have (bone structure related), and another girl she doesn’t recognize. This is Death.  

Death waves to Barbie, thus assuring her that Wanda is happy and safe where she is going and that yes, Wanda was ALWAYS a woman. This was written in 1992 so this was a big deal.  A lot of people here on Tumblr mistake the story as transphobic and legitimately believe it was saying magick won’t work for a transwoman.  No.  This scene was to prove Thessaly and Wanda’s parents wrong about that and to show cis het readers that trans women ARE women right down in their soul.

_______________________________  

Death:  The High cost of Living.

In Death The High cost of living we learn that every so often Death takes human form as a means of self-humbling.  She used to be very cold and mean until one day a soul she was collecting asked her how she would feel about it.  So to remind herself of why she should show compassion she turns herself mortal for one day and lives as a human woman.  

I won’t give the full plot of this story here but know that she attends a Foxglove concert and proclaims herself a fan.

__________________________________  

Death: Time of your life.

Hazel had the baby and they named him Alvin.  This was meant to be in honor of Wanda even though that was Wanda’s deadname and she had hated the name.  They couldn’t figure out how to make a male equivalent of Wanda’s name so they just used her deadname.  I don’t think this is a great idea, personally, but at least they tried to honor her memory.

By now Foxglove is a bit of a celebrity But she is stuck in the closet. It’s the mid-90s and her manager is worried that if she comes out as a lesbian it could ruin her career.

Foxglove thinks she’s falling out of love with Hazel because while on tour, she (Foxglove), has been sleeping around while on tour and knows she hasn’t been spending enough time with Hazel.  She’s also getting burnt out.  Being a celebrity is not all it’s cracked up to be and she misses being obscure.

It turns out baby Alvie (Alvin) had an accident and Hazel offered up herself within a year if Death would not take Alvin.  Death apparently listened but she warned her, she had to take someone when the time comes.    

When Foxglove learns what has happened she rushes home and then to The Sunless lands (the land of The Dead) to save Hazel.  Her handler comes with her.  When she learns the deal Hazel made with Death she’s ready to offer herself to save her, realizing she DOES still love Hazel after all.  The handler, however, offers himself instead.  

It’s HEAVILY implied that Death was actually going to take him all along and the rest was just a rouse to save Hazel and Foxglove’s relationship because she liked them, and wanted them to realize what was important.  It also assured the handler a chance to die a hero, doing something noble and good, which he secretly wanted anyway.

Foxglove goes back to her pre-music career name of Donna and settles into a private life where she is openly with Hazel and their son.   And they live happily Ever After.

I figured it was important someone who actually read the comics summarize it since so many people here on Tumblr mistake The Sandman: A Game of you as transphobic and some have even called Hazel and Foxglove AKA Donna homophobic simply because they both have had affairs and forgave each other for it and Donna’s previous relationship had been abusive.  There was an article from The Mary Sue a few years ago that deliberately took things out of context to make the story of A Game of You seem problematic and too many people trusted that as being accurate.  

Also I had been wanting to write out the summary for some time since there are Sandman fans now who out-right refuse to read the arc because they were told it has problematic content, and some that badly misunderstood what it was trying to say. i.e. legitimately thinking feminine magick wouldn’t work for poor Wanda when in reality the whole point of Wanda’s arc was to tell the reader that transwomen ARE women.

[animegenork]

Fruits Baskets Final Season Episodes 2 & 3

What? No, I didn’t watch these on the Fridays of the weeks they came out. No, I wasn’t dying from school---

Anyway, back to the grind.

Episode 2

I swear the gif search function HATES me and what I’m trying to do---

Anyway.

I would like to make this very clear. Shigure is a little bit evil. A little bit. But it’s mostly from being twisted by the zodiac curse and his strange form of love. So if you wanted to punch him this episode, that’s good. He needs to be punched. A lot. Like a lot. God, he’s so evil. Moving on.

So the episode begins with young Akito asking Shigure if he loves her. This is, as we’ve seen, something that Akito fixates on, mostly due to her father accidentally warping her with the idea of being eternally loved by the zodiac members. He responds with a very earnest love confession that sort of explains why they spend so much time together, but it also confuses things a bit, at least at first. What with the zodiac spirit, it’s unclear how much of Shigure’s love is real and how much isn’t up to him. That may factor in to whatever the hell is up with him now.

Cut to Tohru working on graduation ceremony flowers and nearly asking Shigure about breaking the curse. Of course, she can’t, because it’s hard to bring up, and she’s only seen 2 sides of Shigure at most. Naturally, he already knows what she’s thinking about, because he’s Shigure. He’s just that good.

Tohru continues to struggle even at school, when she realizes that there’s so much she knows that she probably can’t talk about with Momiji or Haru or anyone else. And since the curse is this ever-present thing to them, she’s not even sure if they’ll believe her or how they’ll react. Rin is the exception to this, of course, since she was already looking for information on it.

There are some shenanigans with the Prince Yuki Fan Club, and Tohru and Kyo are left alone (probably on purpose) by Hanajima, Uotani, and company. But I’ll get back to that in a sec.

Yuki tries to help out other classes with things, but they won’t let him because... well, uh, they think he’s too busy... and he... isn’t... I’m sorry, that’s just so funny to me. So anyway, he runs into Machi, who is being all adorable and stubborn because she wanted to say hello and chased him all over the school to do so. It’s cute, because Yuki’s not used to that much effort being put in to something for his sake. I love Machi like that UwU

Back to Tohru and Kyo, they’ve been waiting for HOURS. Tohru decides to tentatively try out her Kureno talking point, but as soon as she brings up the curse maybe being broken, Kyo tells her that hypotheticals like that are pointless (this is implied paraphrase). He does this mostly because he’s in that pit of despair of “I’m never getting out of this” but also because he doesn’t want to give himself a false hope that might never come true. Tohru, however, becomes sad, because of course she wants to save him from having to be locked away like the previous Cat. So there’s a bit of moment where she’s about to cry.

And then Kyo *sniffle* gives her a flower to make her feel better. *sobs*

Technically speaking, this scene should’ve been in the last season or SOMETHING, I honestly thought they WEREN’T going to put my FAVORITE scene in the anime, and then they did. What’s cute about this scene is how torn up Kyo is from hurting Tohru’s feelings, and how almost desperate he is to make her feel better. It’s a sweet moment, if slightly awkwardly animated, but it’s a rare Tohru and Kyo moment where they don’t even say anything and you can SEE everything they want to say. Of course, they’re interrupted, because they always are (HAVE YOU NOTICED THAT LIKE NEVER HAPPENS WHENEVER YUKI AND TOHRU HAVE A MOMENT?), but hey, I got my fluff, I am fed.

There’s brief mention of Rin and how Tohru hasn’t seen her lately, and I hate it because I know where she is.

Anyway, now on to Shigure being Shigure.

He’s torturing his poor editor again, and he walks away from what appears to have been a heated conversation with... HIS PARENTS. THEY EXIST. I dunno what it is with rarely seeing zodiac parents (besides the obvious cases of Kyo and Momiji), but there you have it. We see then that there’s a big Sohma dinner outing with Akito there, so clearly Shigure planned that. His skills of perception and foresight are serious scary, and I really wonder how the hell he developed them.

There’s a flashback to before Tohru and Kureno’s revealing conversation, and we see that Shigure hates Kureno for being so close to Akito. Of course, Kureno makes it clear that Akito doesn’t love him, that she’s always wanted.... well, he doesn’t say, but I think all of us are familiar enough with how this anime works that we know who he means. But Kureno basically wants Shigure to stop being so cold to Akito, and this is because of how much he wants to keep her happy more than any personal feelings about Shigure.

This is where it gets a bit dicey. I’ve actually got a strange fondness for this scene, if only because it sort of but also not really gets to the heart of why Shigure is the way he is.

Shigure appears in Akito’s room, and she’s basically jealous that he was out with another woman. Then she brings up his sexual relationship with his editor (nonexistent), which is rather petty, but then, when was this duo not about pettiness? The implication Akito makes is that he sleeps with every woman he meets (explains a lot). She then mentions that Shigure slept with Ren, Akito’s mother (I’m not going to touch on how screwed up that is), which is why he’s living in a house away from the main estate. Shigure acts all cool and says that was a long time ago, he’s been punished, but Akito points out that he almost wanted to leave. Which... he did, but not for any lack of love on his part. And he says that. He recalls the conversation we see at the beginning, in which he tells her he cares about her more than anyone else. Understandably, she’s frustrated, and she asks why he always tests her.

It’s because she slept with Kureno. Petty, I know.

The phone conversation comes back. Everything you need to understand about Shigure is in one sentence: “I love her so much that sometimes I want to spoil her rotten, and sometimes I want to crush her into a pulp.” This is nearly verbatim of the manga translation I read a long time ago, and it’s always stuck with me. The thing is, Akito was always told she’s special and she can do with the zodiac as she pleases (which she says directly in this episode). It seems a part of Shigure didn’t like that that extended to those that weren’t him (Kureno), and his love for her warped and twisted into this kinda toxic relationship. (Kinda, she says, as if it’s not very.) This makes him want to be kind to her, but at the same time, he wants to be mean to her and show her how much pain she’s put him through, too. It’s pettiness at its extreme, but it’s somehow more believable than other forms of petty jealousy I’ve seen.

Oh yeah, and then they have sex.

Once again, there’s brief mention of Rin, perhaps she’s in the hospital, we don’t really know. But the main part of this all is Shigure remembering that before Akito was born/in his life, he had always been sort of waiting for her, which is mostly the zodiac spirit talking but is also interesting nonetheless. How much of Shigure’s love is influenced by the zodiac curse? How much of it is him? I don’t know if we ever find that out, because frankly, the curse did a lot of things to everyone involved, including him.

I still love Shigure, don’t get me wrong, but this is SUCH an interesting episode.

Episode 3

Precisely the gif I wanted. Hehehe.

IT’S A MACHI EPISODE! AND I LOVE HER, SO THAT’S ALRIGHT!

Still pissed about Kyo’s screentime being so awful lately. ads;fkjsad;fklsda

Some student council shenangians occur as always, and it’s revealed that Nao has a crush on someone, which is why he declared Yuki to be his rival on day one. Also, Kimi is a golddigger.

Some girls come in and gossip about Machi making a mess again with one of her outbursts, and they mention a rumor about her trying to kill her brother, which is why she lives alone. Kakeru looks quite displeased to hear this, and Machi walks in on the conversation and runs away, with Yuki wanting to go after her. 

Kakeru tells Yuki later that the rumor is “mostly true”--that is, that’s the story he’s been told as well. Of course, he’s wary to believe it, because while they’re not terribly close, he knows her a little better than the parents do. He then tells a story of seeing Machi making footprints in the snow, almost obsessively, and he’s not quite sure why she did it (but Kakeru has a Shigure streak, so I wonder if maybe he does know?).

So Kakeru decides to pull a sort of jerk move and visit Machi while with Yuki, and she tries to turn them away to no avail. Of course, Yuki isn’t put off by the mess, since he and Shigure used to live that way, so he’s all cheerful about it while Machi is dying in the corner. I will not talk much about the bra incident, but that was honestly the most hilarious few seconds.

Finally left alone, Machi asks why Yuki is there, assuming it’s about the rumor her classmates mentioned. She says she’s done trying to correct everybody, since no one ever seems to believe her anyway. (That is all too relatable, especially in high school.)

But Yuki doesn’t even mind. He asks something else instead: does she hate perfection? And she says yes. TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR.

Wait. My bad.

Anyway, Machi has a flashback to what I believe I’ve mentioned before, which is Machi’s mom forcing her to be perfect so that she could beat Kakeru in the succession war (England?) with her family. When that was called off, her mother would say right in front of her face (jerk) that Machi was boring. Machi asked her why she would say that when she was just trying to do what she was told. Her mother has the gall to be offended by the implication that it’s her fault (IT IS, YOU IDIOT--) and then turns around and says maybe she raised Machi wrong.

Here’s a hint: that’s not what you say to your CHILD.

Poor Machi didn’t know what to do with herself. What is she supposed to do if she’s just a “mistake” her mother made?

Yuki, in his cute way of knowing precisely what she means, tells her she’s worked hard to get where she is, and that he’s glad she’s here. She’s not used to compliments like that, and it’s a very sweet moment. That’s when she admits that she was just trying to take care of her brother, but her parents wrongly and automatically assumed she was jealous and trying to kill him (which says a lot about how god awful they are). And she’s finally able to let it out and cry with Yuki, who offers to go leave footprints in the snow with her.

My heart might’ve burst during that, not gonna lie--

I think my favorite part of the episode is the next day, during a student council meeting. A new, perfect box of chalk is placed in front of Machi, and you can see in her eyes that the perfection is about to make her snap. Yuki, knowing this, calmly reaches over and breaks a piece of chalk, ruining the “perfection” of it. It’s very sweet of him and a very cute moment for both.

Then we cut to Tohru handing Kyo a flower, which is whiplash to the previous episode I’m glad we got.

The next sequence was a bit confusing at first, as I thought we’d sort of covered this already in season one, but we get to see Motoko. She’s called Yuki out in order to tell him that he made her high school days happier, and that she truly loved him. Motoko also hopes that Yuki himself will find happiness, which I think is a nod at her recognizing Tohru’s influence on him. It’s kind of cute, because even Yuki seems to appreciate her words, and we get to cut to a nice graduation song that actually kind of made me cry.

Motoko is still in a classroom when someone finds her. It’s Nao, and it appears that she was the girl he was in love with, which I LOVE. I HOPE HE OR SHE OR THEY ARE HAPPY TOGETHER OR EVEN APART, JUST THAT HE EVENTUALLY GOT TO TELL HER OR SOMETHING AND AHHHHHH. He tells her that goodbye is not the end, and it always leads to “nice to meet you,” which is sweet for both of them, considering her graduation and his being left behind.

Then we get to meet Hiro’s baby sister, Hinata, a true cutie pie. I think I cried here, too, for different reasons.

Finally, we see Kagura having picked up Rin’s diploma (YAY SHE GRADUATED YAYYYY), and wondering where she is despite her mother’s warnings not to investigate. Hatori and Shigure are a bit suspicious, too, and we see Akito with a pair of scissors.... OwO

[I know what happened and I hate it.]

I’m glad I could finally do these, it’s been a couple of weeks of hell, to be honest. Hopefully, Fruits Basket will be back at it again and I’ll have something more to wax poetic about, haha. Thanks for reading!

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Snow White’s Revenge pt 2

Hey everyone! Here’s a pt 2 to the short I wrote last time. I had a sudden urge to continue it for a couple of parts or so.  

Part 1 linked here. 

Enjoy!

____________________________

“I can’t believe that worthless brat is still alive!” 

The Queen’s angry shout was accompanied by the loud crash of her wine glass against the wall. The shattered pieces flew through the air, landing on her skirt and shoes, but the woman ignored them, her gaze focused instead on the blood spattered girl being escorted through the palace gates. The entry guard had already passed on her story, the words causing the Queen to wish there were more things to smash in the room.

“A wild animal?! Killing the huntsman but not that brat?!” She shook her head. “How is it possible?” 

“Is that a question for me?” The golden eyes in the enchanted mirror showed enjoyment as the item watched the Queen’s fury. “I’m more than happy to exchange the answer for a few years of your life energy.”

“Shut up, you useless piece of junk!”

“Not my fault you start the day off by wasting your daily question.” The mirror laughed. “Be careful not to frown too much, or even your magic won’t be able to hide the lines in your face. You might be dropping to third fairest soon! What are you going to do then? Kill every attractive female in the kingdom?” 

“If I have to.” She muttered in response, but quickly calmed her facial expression. “No matter what, Snow White must die.”

“Then why not kill her? Why do you make things so needlessly complicated?” The golden eyes rolled with disdain. “Foolish human.”

He queen sighed. “She’s the daughter of the late king and queen. My claim to the throne is temporary, and fragile at best. If it were known that I was behind her death, the citizens… even the other kingdoms wouldn’t stand by. It would be seen as disregarding the natural order of royal blood. But if it’s an accident…”

Her slim, well-manicured finger tapped against her jaw. “Now that she’s back, I’ll have to be careful. Prince Alexander will be arriving tonight. He will likely wish to discuss an engagement with that girl.”

“And you care? If he takes her away you can be fairest in the land, right?”

“Fool. She’ll have a powerful backer to support her should she wish to take the throne. Rather than compete with his brothers, the prince may fancy taking over an easier fight here.” Her hands clenched into tight fists.

“Whatever it takes, I have to make sure that this marriage does not happen.”

____________________________

 “I have to make sure this marriage doesn’t happen, Phil.” Prince Alex forced a smile for the crowds as they rode into the Royal Capital, towards the palace.

“Again, I think you’re an idiot for turning down a beautiful sweet girl, but sure, so you’re just going to tell her that you won’t marry her?” Phil sighed, keeping a diplomatic expression on as he rode behind the prince.

Alex shook his head slowly. “Our parents had pretty much guaranteed the marriage before the late king passed. If I just refuse it now, her mother could make a huge political scandal out of it. That could hurt my chances for the throne back home.”

“You really need to think this through, Alex. First of all, I don’t know if her stepmother cares…”

“Snow White has to be the one to reject the marriage.”

“… I’m taking back all my concern for you. You’re an idiot.”

Alex grinned. “No, I’ve got it all planned out! I’m going to act like a violent thoughtless brute…”

“So you’re going to act like yourself?”

“And once she sees how different I am from the prince in her dreams, she’ll cancel the engagement and I can negotiate a non-marriage related treaty in exchange! It’s fool-proof.”

Phil stared at the prince with pity in his eyes. “I think you meant ‘foolish’.”

“You just wait. After I’m done, there’s no way Snow White will continue to hold onto the dream of marrying me!”

____________________________

“There’s no way I’m going to marry the prince.” Snow sighed as she tossed her knife at the practice dummy in the corner of the room. “Maybe it would be easier to just kill him?” 

“Your highness!” Gertrude, the middle-aged nursemaid who had always been by the princess’s side since she was an infant, stared in horror at the stuffed figure that now had a blade sticking through its crotch. “I thought you couldn’t wait to marry Prince Alexander!”

That was the innocent dream of a dead girl. Snow thought but didn’t say out loud. “Things have changed, Nanny. I have too much to worry about now to pay attention to love and marriage.” She hesitated. “Unless… is the prince really strong?”

“Strong?”

“You know, can he fight? Cut off his enemies heads and torch their homes, stomp their corpses into the mud?”

Gertrude gasped in shock. “Prince Alexander is a gentleman! He would do no such thing!”

“Then he’s useless. Someone else can marry him.” Losing interest, Snow picked up another knife, taking aim.  

“But he’s such a handsome young man!”

“Handsome?” The princess snorted with disdain. “Being handsome only attracts attention, and isn’t helpful in a fight.” The knife flew from her hand striking the center of the dummy’s chest. She stared at it with satisfaction, and then nodded.

“Yep, I’ll just have to tell him to look elsewhere for a bride. Someone weak and delicate, who suits a man like him.”

The nanny sighed. “Very well, Miss. I can’t claim to understand your thoughts, but as long as you’re happy…”

“Don’t worry.” Snow stepped forward, grabbing the knife still embedded in the stuffed target’s groin and pulling it upwards, slicing the whole dummy into two pieces. She tested the still sharp tip and smiled brightly, the delicate beautiful smile lighting up the entire room. “I’ll make my own happy ending.”

____________________________

 “A toast to our princess, and her safe return!” A portly duke raised his glass, and with everyone else slowly got to their feet and followed suit.

Snow sighed with mild annoyance, sipping at the wine with a disgusted frown. Alcohol had been a much-coveted luxury in her old world, with many people willing to trade weapons and food for a chance to cloud their despair in a drunken stupor. She had fairly good tolerance back then, but saw it as more a necessary evil for business transactions rather than something to enjoy. Drunkenness meant letting your guard down, a chance for someone to kill you.

Not that it mattered in the end. Snow thought bitterly. I was completely sober when I was betrayed and killed.

She stared down at the wine in her hand, disliking the weak, sweet taste. At least the food was rich, well flavored, much better than the scraps she had grown up on.

Seems like the prince is enjoying the food too. She glanced over the handsome young man sitting across from her, who was carelessly shoveling food into his mouth without a concern for manners or etiquette. Food was smeared around his lips, falling to the table around his plate, causing others to stare in dismay, but he ignored them, focusing on eating his fill.

Snow nodded in approval. That’s how a leader should eat. None of this delicate small bites nonsense. Eat the food quickly, in case the enemy attacks while you’re weak. Maybe this prince isn’t as bad as I thought.

Curiously enough, seeing her positive glance at his behavior, the prince seemed frustrated and panicked, his behavior becoming even more loud and boisterous.

“I haven’t eaten food this good since the Battle of Brent!” He yelled out desperately, swinging his wine glass and spilling the liquid inside. “I was decapitating enemies left and right, crushing their corpses, ignoring their cries for mercy!” 

Many of the noblewomen turned pale at his violent words, covering their mouths with handkerchiefs. A few even stood up to leave, too overwhelmed as he went into detail as to how he killed and dismembered his foes. Even the Queen seemed overwhelmed by the Prince’s brutish behavior, keeping her eyes on her own plate. Only two people in the room seemed unfazed by his words, his friend Phillip, the son of the Duke of Willowford, who just rolled his eyes, and Snow herself, who found herself increasingly interested in the man in front of her. 

Maybe the previous soul had good taste after all… She studied him closely, unsure as to why he seemed so frustrated. He seems like a violent, merciless warrior, without concern for this kingdom’s silly rules for politeness. He doesn’t look all that strong though…  I’d have to fight him to see if he is worthy to be an ally.

But as for marriage… Snow was still against it. She had seen too many fighters lose their lives at the hands of their so-called loved ones, and so had avoided relationships previously. Besides, the betrayal of her second in command in her previous life was still too fresh to consider trusting someone again very soon.

He’s probably looking for a delicate, submissive wife, so it shouldn’t be too hard to persuade him to look elsewhere. Just as Snow thought this, she realized that an opportunity had presented itself in the form of a dessert.

She took a small bite of the cake in front of her, a familiar tingling on her tongue alerting her to the poison inside. She tapped her leg under the table, hiding the green flash of her magic as she checked her body’s condition. It targeted the gastrointestinal system causing large volume vomiting and diarrhea within minutes of ingestion. 

I assume the Queen wants to humiliate me, by forcing me into such a state before I can escape to the privacy of my rooms? She took another bite, tapping her knee again, her magic nullifying the poisons effects. Still, it seems like too good of a chance to pass up. Getting back at the Queen and disgusting my potential fiancé at the same time… With a smile, she took one more bite, this time only partially nullifying the effects of the poison.

Her face turning a bright white, she staggered to her feet, not missing the Queen’s satisfied smirk. For an odd reason the Prince seemed excited too, standing up as well.

“My rough manners and words must have offended you Princess, I understand if you need to excuse yourself…” 

BLEGH. 

Snow staggered over to the head of the table, vomiting all over the Queen.

“…” The room went silent as they stared in shock at the scene before them. The Queen’s eyes were wide, her hands shaking as she glared at Snow, who smiled sweetly back.

“Mother, I don’t feel well. May I be excused?”

“…Go ahead.” She answered through gritted teeth.

“Thanks, Mother!” Grinning as if the woman who just projectile vomited at a formal dinner party was not her, Snow skipped out of the room, heading back to the courtyard outside her rooms.

____________________________

 “… The party is over.” The Queen finally spoke up again, stepping up and rushing from the room, dripping vile smelling fluid.

Prince Alex sighed sadly, covering his head in his hands. “That didn’t go well.”

Phil looked over. “Really? It looked like you were having fun?”

“Well, yeah, I don’t normally get to eat and talk however I want and formal functions, it was kind of a relief to get to act like I do out in the battlefield rather than play the part of the charming prince.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Snow White wasn’t offended!” Alex groaned. “Did you see her smiling at me throughout the dinner?”

“Maybe she’s not as delicate and weak as you thought?”

“No. She must be so captivated by my looks that she doesn’t care how brutish I act.”

Phil rolled his eyes, looking physically pained. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“I’ll have to strike more directly, be insulting.” Alex stared sadly at the leftover food for a few moments, before standing up.

“The poor girl just vomited in front of the entire royal court, don’t you think you should give her a break?”

“This is for her own good that she’s not engaged to me…”

“And your selfishness that you want her to be the one to break it off…”

Alex sighed. “You’re not wrong. But I’m going to try.” With that he walked away in the direction Snow White had fled earlier.

“Idiot.” Phil muttered, following slowly behind.

____________________________

 The prince came upon Snow White as she was rinsing her face and mouth in a bucket of icy water in the courtyard outside her rooms. Without giving much thought as to why the delicate princess was using stale cold water outside rather than taking a warm bath, he stepped forward, keeping his voice harsh and overbearing.

“Hey you!”

Snow White turned towards the prince with a neutral expression. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah! I have something to say.”

The princess straightened up, stepping closer while drying her face with a rough cloth, obviously willing to listen. Alex took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself.

“I think you’re  scrawny looking!”

Snow White nodded pleasantly. 

“And you’re ugly!”

Despite his horrible words, Snow White continued to stare at him, unconcerned, as if his words were simple facts rather than terrible insults. Feeling desperate and guilty, he tried once more.

“No man in his right mind would marry you!”

The princess shrugged, her flawless features still tranquil. “Is that all?”

“…” Defeated, Prince Alex’s shoulders slumped, and he whispered “No. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m lying, I’ve tried to do something terrible, when all you’ve done is be pleasant and polite. I’m so sorry!”

“… okay?”

“The truth…” He sighed. “The truth is that I can’t marry you, but I wanted you to be the one to break off the engagement, so I insulted you and tried to scare you off.”

“…” If anything, Snow White looked more confused.

“I do think you’re a lovely girl, but the royal court back home is a battleground right now, and I can’t bring someone as weak as you into danger. I wouldn’t be able to protect…”

RIP!

The tearing sound of the towel in Snow White’s hands interrupted the prince’s gentle explanation. She stepped closer, the torn cloth clenched in her fists, her face taking on a furious expression.

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!”

“Umm…” Confused, Alex backed away a few steps, only to have the princess close the distance once more, now whispering.

“Did you call me ‘weak’?”

“…Yes?”

The torn pieces of towel flew into his eyes, blocking his vision. Alex tried to swipe them away, but before he could recover…

BAM!

Snow White’s right fist struck his face, knocking him backwards.

____________________________

 Snow was mad.

Everything had been going so well. She had vomited all over the Queen, and while she was cleaning up, the prince had approached her of his own volition and seemed to be expressing an unwillingness to marry her. 

He called her a few names, such as “scrawny” and “ugly.” Snow found herself nodding in agreement. This body had very little muscle mass, she missed the thicker arms and legs she had worked so hard for in her previous life. As for ugly… well, Nanny had told her she was beautiful, and Snow had no complaints about the features in the mirror, but who knows what counted as attractive in this world? Perhaps this kind of face wasn’t popular? Either way, it seemed that the prince wasn’t interested in getting married, which solved another one of her problems.

Snow was very satisfied.

At least she was right up until the man called her weak.

WEAK?!

Snow remembered the feeling of her friend’s knife in her back, their whispered words in her ear still echoing in her heart.

“You’re too weak to lead anymore, Snow.”

Seeing red, Snow had already started to fight before she could think things through.

BAM!

After distracting his sight with a torn piece of cloth, she punched him in the face.

Ow! This body is too weak!  Feeling regretful, Snow tapped her arms a few times, infusing healing magic to the max , hoping to augment her strength and speed a bit.  To her relief, she felt her muscles respond, giving her more to work with in the fight. 

The prince had staggered back at her initial blow, more surprised than hurt. “Ow! Why would you…?” 

He was interrupted as she kicked him in the chest, knocking him back further. 

“We’re fighting.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed as he watched her draw closer. “If you keep at this, I’ll fight back you know.”

She swung at his head, smiling as he dodged the blow only to get her knee to his face. “Good.”

“I- I won’t go easy on you!” Alex clutched his broken nose, glaring.

“Who said I needed you to?”

And with that the two began to fight in earnest.

The prince was good, Snow had to admit. He had quick reflexes; his reactions were obviously honed on the battlefield. Even though he was injured right from the start he compensated quickly and launched a powerful attack towards her face, taking advantage of his bigger size and reach.

But she was faster.

Dodging within his range, Snow rammed a fist into his gut, causing him to bend over at the waist. Taking advantage of the lowered height, she kicked his head, causing his whole body to tumble backwards. Surprisingly, despite the heavy injury, he staggered to his feet, a bloodthirsty smile on his face.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to fight with everything I’ve got!” He lunged forward, seeming to stumble as he moved. Snow thought to take advantage of the slip, aiming a punch towards his chest, but he bent out of the way, showing the initial clumsiness to be nothing but a feint. Grabbing her wrist, he tried to force her around; to put her into an arm lock, but Snow simply went against the motion, allowing the bone to break.

CRACK!

The sickening sound caused them both to slightly flinch, but before Alex could recover she had already struck again, her foot smashing into his cheek, knocking him onto his back. Then, not allowing him time to stand, she stepped on his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs in a painful gasp. 

“Let’s get one thing straight, prince:” She smiled, not noticing that the beauty of the expression caused even the heavily injured prince to be dazed for a moment. “We are not getting married, true… but it’s not because I’m too weak. “ She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with enjoyment. “It’s because you’re not strong enough to stand beside me.”

 With that she struck him once more, knocking him unconscious.

“I’m out of practice.” Sighing with dismay, Snow reached over and healed her broken wrist, wincing as the bones reset themselves. She then stared down at the prince, wondering what to do next. A strong blow like she had given him could have definitely caused bleeding within his brain. If she left him alone he could definitely die.

“He did give me a good fight… and he’s not terrible at combat…” Muttering to herself, she leaned forward and held a hand to his forehead, allowing her almost drained power to flow into the prince’s body. 

“What are you doing?” Another young man, Snow recognized him as Phillip, the prince’s friend, had walked up, staring at the unconscious prince with a mildly concerned expression. 

“Healing him.” Snow answered honestly, most of her focus on the injured man in front of her.

“Why? Aren’t you the one who injured him?”

“…Aren’t you his friend?”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure he deserved the beating he got. “ Phillip watched her for a few moments. “Are you a witch?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking. I’m not bathing in the blood of virgins or summoning demons or anything. I just happen to have abilities that are useful for times like this.”

As she spoke, the prince’s injured face slowly returned to its normal state, the swelling and broken nose fading as if they never had been there in the first place.

“Again, I feel like I should ask why. Your stepmother could use your abilities as an excuse for you to be burned at the stake if she learned of your powers.”

Snow smiled at the young man. “Who would believe that the delicate and mild mannered ‘Snow White’ beat the snot out of a man and then healed him?” She gestured at the now normal appearing prince. “He looks completely fine to me.”

“Good point.” Phillip smiled, and bowed gracefully. “Then I will thank you, Your Highness, for showing mercy in not killing my foolish friend.”

“Smart man.” Nodding, Snow stood up, brushing her hands off on her pants. “He’s all yours.”

With that, she turned around and entered her rooms, smiling.

____________________________

“PLEASE TEACH ME HOW TO FIGHT!” Snow was greeted the next morning by the sight of the handsome prince kneeling, his hands clasped in front of him as he begged with a serious expression. 

It’s too early for this nonsense.

Sighing, Snow looked over the young man with a critical eye. “Why?”

“I’m very sorry that I insulted you earlier!” Alex stared at her respectfully. “But now I know you’re really strong and I look up to you! I have so much that I can learn from you to increase my own strength!”

“No, I know why YOU want me to teach you.” She shrugged. “That’s obvious. What I want to know is why should I? There’s nothing in it for me.”

Alex considered her words for a few moments. “I’ll marry you?”

“Rejected. You’re too weak.”

“I’ll pay you?”

“I’m a princess, set to inherit the crown. I’m in a better financial position then you, who is still fighting for your own claim to the throne.”

“…I’ll be your servant?” 

Snow rubbed her forehead, frowning. “I don’t have a use for you. If anything, that young man would be more helpful, since at least he’s smart.” She pointed at Phil, who was watching their interactions with an amused expression.

“Traitor!” Alex frowned at his friend, who backed away.

“You two violent creatures leave my poor innocent self out of your discussions. I’m just here to try to reign in the area of destruction a bit.”

“…” The prince lowered his head and thought. “Is there anything you want that I can give you?”

Smiling, Snow nodded. “As a matter a fact there is.”

“Really? Because I’m willing to give anything…”

“I want your sword.”

“NO!” Alex clutched the well-worn blade hilt with a crestfallen expression.  

“I thought you said anything?”

“You might as well ask for my first born child!” 

“Again, not interested. They’d probably just be weak like you.”

Phil sighed loudly, stepping between them. “What do you like about the sword, Princess?”

“It’s well balanced, has been kept oiled and sharpened, and seems to have an appropriate length and weight that I could use.”

“If we can get you a similar sword, or perhaps one even better, would you listen to this stupid prince’s request?”

 “Hey!”

Snow ignored Alex’s shout and thought it over. “Sure.” She smiled slowly. “But I won’t go easy on you, weak prince.”

The young man stood up, shaking her hand with a grin of his own. “I’m counting on it, Snow White.”

____________________________

 “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” The Queen, having just finished her morning routine and makeup, stared into the magic mirror with a desperate expression.

Her reflection was replaced with a gleeful pair of golden eyes.

“Again, the same question. For an evil witch you’re quite boring you know.”

“ANSWER IT!”

“Still Snow White, your beautiful and talented step daughter, who has quite good aim when it comes to vomiting I hear.”

CRASH!

A crystal case of powder broke into pieces on the floor.

“When are they going to learn to not put anything breakable in your room?”

“I’ll make her suffer for that stunt she pulled last night.” Ignoring the mirror now that she had asked her daily compulsive question, the Queen pulled a hidden lever on her wall. With a screech of rusty gears the wall near the switch separated, rotated itself and an attached dresser around, revealing a hidden room behind it. She entered it, and without hesitation, grabbed a knife and slashed her own hand, dripping blood into the cauldron at the center of the room.

“I may not be able to kill her directly, but let’s see how she deals with the dark fiends of the underworld when they come to torture her in the dead of night.” She poured a few more ingredients from various jars and tubes, smiling wickedly as a green smoke began filling the air. “Just a simple contract, a few years of life force, but worth it if her torment will be enough to push her into complete despair.”

“You know what I love about you? Your boundless optimism.”

The Queen ignored the mirror’s words. “You won’t escape me this time, Snow White. You’ve been lucky this far, but in the end, everything will be mine!”

Her laughter slowly filled the room, echoing off the walls, as if the whole castle was laughing with her.

[pretend-writer]

Sweet Despair (Sam Winchester x reader)

Summary: Y/N has been keeping a secret from her boyfriend, Sam. 

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Title Reference: Sweet Despair x Cher Lloyd

Word Count: 1.2k words

Warning: mention of death

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Sam still doesn't know.

There's no way I'd tell him. He wouldn't understand, he'd be so confused and then he'd eventually leave me. I just know he would.

I trust him with all my heart, Sam is so pure and sweet which was one of the million reasons I was in love with him. The relationship between us was so great, I didn't want anything to ruin it. There's never a day when I always want to be a hundred percent honest with him but how can I? He'd think I'm a freak.

The smile he flashes whenever Sam would hold my hand as we walk to class together doesn't fail to make my heart full. But knowing what I'm hiding from him and how he would react if he knew breaks my heart even more.

I was scared how different he'd feel about me once he finds out the truth and everyday that I hid it from him, I knew it was getting worse.

Days went by since I've been overly thinking about it and now Sam started to suspect something; he knew I was off and there was something on my mind. Being the kind sweetheart he is, Sam would always check up on me. I'd lie and tell him I'm fine.

I wasn't

All the small kisses he'd leave on my forehead made me feel even worse; the guilt grew in me each time. Especially now that Sam knows something was off with me.

"We've been dating for what, nearly three years right?" Sam and I have practically been attached to each other since the start of our college years. "I can tell when you're stressed. Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm fine Sammy."

He looked me in my eyes, knowing that I was quite the opposite. I could tell that he was plotting a way to break me to telling him what really was going on. "Is it professor Dr-"

"No, it's not about classes." Both of us having issues with our law professor, that was Sam's first guess. "Are you going to keep guessing?"

"If you're not going to tell me, then yeah. I'm going to bug you until I know what's bothering you." Sam answered a little sternly this time, he was serious about finding out the truth.

Shifting my eyes away from him, I looked around the room. I knew that Sam wasn't going to stop asking questions and I didn't know how else to escape from this situation.

"Is it something I can help with? Is it about me?"

"I-it's not about you and no, you can't help me."

Sam took a deep breath, overly thinking all of the things he have done in the past few days. I hate that he thinks it was something about him, even when I said it wasn't. I hate that he thinks all of this was his fault.

"Trust me, it's not you. Just don't worry about it, okay?"

"How can I not worry, Y/N? You're practically not with me even when I'm sitting right next to you. Your mind is elsewhere everytime, everyday." Sam sighed, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at my sad face. "So tell me, I'll help every way I can."

"You can't."

"Why do you know that I can't?"

"I just do."

He rolled his eyes, biting his lips as he brainstormed more reasons. I could tell he was getting frustrated by the minute. "Did my brother contact you?"

"Dean hasn't called or anything like that." I fiddled with my jeans, getting nervous that Sam was asking too many questions. "It's about me okay? So you don't have to worry about it, I'm fine."

Sam brought his face closer to mine, observing me and my expression. He reached for my hand and squeezed it, "I'll always worry. Just know I'm here for you, baby."

His soft, gentle voice must of had an affect on me because next thing I knew, tears were falling from my eyes. Crying was the last thing I ever wanted to do, especially since I rarely cried in front of Sam.

"Baby-" Sam scooter closer to me, holding onto me as he rubbed my back. Not being used to see me cry so often, he panicked as he tried to comfort me.

"I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry." It struggled to come out of my mouth, "I just can't do this."

His grip loosened, trying to comprehend what I have said. "You want to break up with me?"

Quickly facing him, I shook my head. "No, of course not. You're the best thing that's happened to me. But you're gonna want to break up with me."

Sam smiled in relief, hearing that she wasn't going to end the relationship with him. He then lightly brushed his thumb under my eyes to wipe away my tears. "Nothing is going to change my mind about the way I feel towards you."

Naive, I thought to myself. It was cute and sweet that he'd love me unconditionally but Sam didn't know better. He didn't know my past. The truth about who I really am.

"You know the nightmares I have constantly? The monsters that's always haunting me in my dreams, trying to kill me?"

Sam nodded silently, waiting for me to continue on with my story. "Those aren't dreams, it actually happened. I'm scarred because that's how my parents died, not some car accident."

"What are you mea-"

"Monsters aren't real, right?" I chuckled, laughing at myself knowing I sound stupid. "Well, surprise because they are. My parents were on a hunt and got killed by demons, actually."

"Your parents were hunters?" Sam asked. It was weird to me that that was his first response but at least he didn't look at me with disgust.

As I slowly nodded, I took a deep breath. "Yeah, its hard to explain bu-"

"I come from a family of hunters too." Sam's eyes widened, "Uhm. I didn't want to be one which was why I came here."

Biting my lip, I furrowed my eyebrows. "You know I don't meant hunters as in shooting animals in the woods, right?"

Sam laughed as he saw the worried expression on my face. "Yes, babe. Vampires, werewolves, you name it."

A huge sense of relief flushed throughout my whole body, the anxiety that I was living with for a long time was all gone. Sam must of seen how tense I was, he grinned as I exhaled.

"Wow, I actually know someone that I can relate to." Sam intertwined his fingers into mine, "I'm really sorry about your parents Y/N. My mom died from a supernatural cause too."

I frowned as I placed my hand on his cheek, caressing my hand against his skin. "You never talk about your parents, Sammy."

"Well, it's kind of hard to talk about them when it's all about the supernatural." Sam said, "That was all you were worried about this whole time? Telling me that you came from family of hunters?"

Playfully, I hit him on the shoulders. "That was all!? Are you kidding me!?"

"Ah, okay okay. That is a pretty big deal." Sam laughed with me as he hugged me from the side. "For me, I've always wanted to escape it. I don't like the hunting life and I sort of want to forget about the past."

"Yeah, I get it. I've tried that over the years but it's who I am. I can't hide that."

Sam kissed me on the cheek, "You don't have to hide anymore. We can both be honest now."

"You're right, no more secrets."

[atroposmoiraifate]

Atropos or Aisa (/ˈætrəpɒs/; Ancient Greek: Ἄτροπος "without turn"), in Greek mythology, was one of the three Moirai, goddesses of fate and destiny. Atropos was the oldest of the Three Fates, and was known as "the Inflexible One.  It was Atropos who chose the mechanism of death and ended the life of mortals by cutting their threads. She worked along with her two sisters, Clotho, who spun the thread, and Lachesis, who measured the length. Atropos has been featured in several stories such as Atalanta and Achilles.

Her origin, along with the other two fates, is uncertain, although some called them the daughters of the night. It is clear, however, that at a certain period they ceased to be only concerned with death and also became those powers who decided what may happen to individuals. Although Zeus was the chief Greek god and their father, he was still subject to the decisions of the Fates, and thus the executor of destiny, rather than its source. According to Hesiod's Theogony, Atropos and her sisters (Clotho and Lachesis) were the daughters of Erebus (Darkness) and Nyx (Night) and sister to Thanatos and Hypnos, though later in the same work (ll. 901-906) they are said to have been of Zeus and Themis

Name: Atropos, Atty, Asia in some places.

Lives on Mount Olympus with her sisters in their temple.

Best Friend: Lacy

Final Fate is the strongest of them all. His name will not said aloud. The last time they did they really messed up their brothers life.

Who is Atropos, or Atty you ask?

Atropos was the oldest of the Three Fates, and well known as the inflexible or \"inevitable.  Atropos was mean, having no regard for the life of humans, animals, or gods.  It didn't matter to her what species a soul was, Atropos chose the mechanism of death and ended the life of mortals and Gods alike by cutting their thread with her abhorred shears. She worked along with her two sisters, Clotho, who spun the thread, and Lachesis, who measured the length.  The three ran Olympus.  Zeus the so-called King of the Gods feared them.  His fear of them ran so deep that he locked them away on the left side of Olympus, so they were far away from him.  Zeus knew deep down that the three sisters held what it took to take him down, and that didn't set well with him.  So he imprisoned them..... or thought he did so that would never occur.

Atropos origin, along with her two sisters, is uncertain, although some called them the daughters of the night. It is evident, however, that when Zeus ruled, the sisters were to deal with death only, and also became those powers who decided what may happen to individuals. Although Zeus was the chief Greek god and their \"father\", he was still subject to the decisions of the Fates, and thus the executor of destiny, rather than its source. According to legend Atropos, Clotho, and Lachesis were the daughters of Erebus ( God of Darkness) and Nyx ( Goddess of Night).

Atropos and her sisters had lived for centuries on Mount Olympus doing the bidding of the all mighty father of the Gods, Zeus, who didn't even bother to mess with them.  Along with this threat of Death, prediction of future events, they lived a lonely life. Of the three sisters, Atropos had used her bowls, and she perfected the use of them.  The outside world of those whose life she took had intrigued her.  She had watched many be born, and many die and always by her hand as she cut their life cord.

Atropos, Clotho, and Lachesis had never known their parents at all. They were considered an abomination as the futuristic predictions proved to be true, the three were feared among even the Gods.  Themis had no choice but to hand the three over to Zeus.  Zeus had shoved them inside a temple on the left side of Olympus, they never received any visitors, for too many feared them, feared the unknown leaving the three lonely, and bitter.

Locked away in the temple the sisters became distant from all others.  Only doing the bidding of Zeus on a mission to find the one that held the power to end the universe, thus putting an end to the almighty \"Greek Gods\" in doing so.  Every century Atropos would scan the world for the being that had been foretold would end them all. Standing before her bowls a young male Demon had come into clear view as she stood there, her eyes on the image in the water she found she couldn't move. His stare captivating even as a reflexion.  Staring at the water as her sisters walked in she reached down swirling the water with her hands, erasing the image of the male that would bring an end to the universe as she knew it. Shaking her head to the two as they walked past her. Atropos knew in her heart that she had to protect this male even if it was the last thing she did.

Atropos had become fascinated by the world outside the temple at this time with the humans, and the others as she and her sisters would come to call them.  Humans were not the only thing walking the universe, Demons, weres, shifters, witches, among others walked along with them. However, these creatures also feared the Fates.  Atropos hated being cooped up in the temple and began changing her appearance, showing her face in various towns, states, and countries. It was during one of these times that she found herself standing face to face with the young Demon she had seen in the bowls.  Unable to see her she took her hand running it along the nape of his neck watching the chills run down his spine as the hand of Death had just raked his skin.  Atropos had decided to keep the secret; she watched him throughout his young life.  Watching him struggle, fail (only in his eyes, but never in hers.) and pick himself back up again, and again.  Atropos watched from a distance; he never knew she was there; it was something she had perfected.  As she found her way back to the temple, she only smiled as her sisters questioned her about where she had been, what she had been doing, and who she had been watching.  Not once did she give in to either of them about who it was.

Atropos continued to watch Cal, as a matter of fact he consumed much of her time, and oh how he made it easy for her, he was Destruction, and her, well she was Death, and they go hand in hand.  Atropos had a habit of showing up after he had caused mass Destruction guiding those souls to the place they were to end up for eternity.  Atropos could have cared less about the lost souls she moved.  She knew that it brought her closer to that Cal.  Atropos needed someone who would listen, and she had come to trust her sister, Lacy.  Atropos found she was spending more and more time repeating the stories of the young male who had her heart, yet sadly didn't even know she existed.  She spoke of his greatness, his strength, agility, and how he was a savior in her eyes.  Never once did she talk about him being the one who would take down Olympus, and Zeus, the pompous ass.

One day, as Atropos spoke the words unbeknownst to her Clotho was hiding in the room, listening to every word that had been spoken.  As she made her way home,  stepping into her room, she found her sister had locked her in with wards and spells making sure the Fate of Death would never come out of the room again. Lacy would try to coax her out, she declined. Even though she had the power to break the wards.

Falling into a great despair, she spent her time watching Cal through the bowls, she kept them from her sister, and Zeus protecting him from certain demise had they found out.  Atropos tracked his every move, knowing when he was in battle when he was hurt, defeated, and angry.  As she watched from afar, a little of her died as she did so. Atropos knew that being the oldest, and the strongest, also the most feared of the three that at any time she could break the bonds that held her, however, she didn't push knowing her fate was here, and that this is where she belonged in the temple, bringing death and cutting cords.

Lacy made sure that Clotho never locked Atty up again, as a matter of fact, the complete opposite occured, Clotho stayed away from her, for fear of what she would do to her. Atty had decided at that moment when her eyes had locked with the Cals; she had secretly adored, that she was going to live the rest of her existence the way she wanted to, and that was without interference from her nosy sister.  Atty did just that; she lived knowing that even that one time of looking into his eyes, touching his cheek, would have to be enough.  It would have to put out the flame that would burn eternally for the male.

Atropos had kept an eye on Cal making sure he was not making more mistakes; she found ways to guide him in the ways he needed to be. Her sister thought she had completely lost her mind when she did this.  Scowling at her, she wouldn't lose sight on what she knew he stood for, and who he was.  Atty had always seen Cal as hope, hope for all mankind, hope for the world while others had trouble getting past where he came from, and what he was.  Atropos had caught glimpse of the great male he would become.

Smiling as she watched him. Sure, he had an attitude, he was cocky, and to others was something of a tyrant. Cal had always pushed to get his way.  These were all traits Atty had watched throughout the years, and found that they were  the very things he needed to survive the ways of the universe and the painful things that had thrown his way.

As time passed, Atropos discovered that her time with her bowls gave her the greatest joys, up until the day she heard the soul that had screamed for her to collect it.  As Atropos went to collect it, she saw who it was, and under what circumstances, Atty looked around for another soul, the fates must have been mistaken looking around backing up her eyes wide as she took her shears, taking the woman's hand with her own.  Her eyes were looking through to the window right to Atty's soul.  This has to be relation to Cal, she knew it. She had a job to do. Even though the female spoke to her as she escorted her soul she'd never tell another what was said. As Atty delivered the soul, the words rang over and over in her mind.  Watching Cals life the next couple of years she felt helpless, she knew that at this point Atty had given in to the fact that he was lost to the world, and to what she thought was to be would never be, and wasn't there.

As Atropos watched Cal,she screamed out in anger, wanting to warn him of how it would end, a las she couldn't...…. it was against all that had been drilled in her head.  NEVER MESS WITH FATE!!!  It will come back and bite you in the ass.  Atropos felt her heart beating as she watched it all unfold, Cal, her sister, Cassius and she knew before it went down exactly how it was going to end.  For her beloved bowls had shown her the end of the only male she would ever love, a forbidden love.  Tears falling into the water she knew she had to save him.  Cal was the savior of many. Breaking through the hold her sister they had at the entrance, she splintered the door that had held her behind.  Giving her sister a snarl, she scattered like a bug after a light had been turned on.  Grinning as she moved fluidly through the temple finding her way. The Fate of Death begged her best friend, her sister Lacy for help.  Atropos and Lacy moved swiftly and they made it in time to watch the Dream Brothers, the God of War, Ares, and a powerful shifter, Demons everywhere attack them..... and her Cal would be no more.

Moving in what felt to be slow motion, they watched from the corner to what seemed to be the inevitable.  As the Male fell out of place by those that sought to assist. She watched as the other males were falling as well, and weren't getting up without help.  Atropos couldn't bring herself to carry her Males soul to the other realm, not knowing who he was, what he stood for and how the world needed him, she needed him though he'd never know. Atropos knew right then and there that she would have sacrificed her beating heart before she  would lose him.  Reaching down, she touched Cal and smiled as her heart beat wildly against her chest.  His scent invaded every essence as she stood knowing they would all live.  She would be able to remember the feel of Cals skin, she lingered for a second, it was almost a second that got her caught.  As the males woke up and her eyes met with his, she gave him a small smile before they vanished from the place of battle.   It was a moment etched in her mind forever, and one she was sure he'd forget.

Lacy told Atty there wouldn't be another time like this. They weren't meant to interfere in the lives of others. As much as it broke her heart she knew Lacy was right, and she would always watch from a far. Perhaps Lacy and Atty could take their own trip into New Orleans. Atty had always wanted ro live there, maybe Lacy could be talked into into it.....she would see.

[a-notebook-of-stories]

2nd Story: The Girl Born of Flames

In a place far far away, a girl born of flames was born. The girl born was not named, as those who have witnessed her birth all died. Mysterious deaths they were, each witness died engulfed by flames, unknown whether is was purely by accident or by murder.

Hence the girl born of flames was outcasted and thrown away, left for dead in a shallow grave outside the skirts of the kingdom for the animals to devour.

Surely you would expect the girl born of flames to die by the hand of nature. But she did not.

The girl was saved by an old haggard witch - so so told by the ancient stories of the land.

Lonely was this witch who craved for some companionship, she saved the girl born of flames and raised her. As her own child she carved all her knowledge and power into her.

The girl born of flames who grew up with the witch was not named. Growing up she would be called many things - Girl, My Daughter, My Child - to name a few.

However she did not mind. She knew the witch was not her mother, or anyone related to her by blood. But she was kin. She loved the witch like she was her mother. She cherished all the times with her. The girl was proud to have been raised by such a woman.

It wasn't until the girl born of flames turned 21 when she was given a name.

An unfortunate incident befell the girl and the witch. An incident where the girl born of flames would hate those who have hurt her family. An incident, where she failed to save her beloved mother, the witch.

It was a night of thee full moon on the eve of the girls 21st birthday.

It was a night where the witch promised the girl to give her a name. A name that carried power and strength of the being she will become.

Everything that night was prepared days in advance for the girl. She was ready to be named!

However, as clouds finally started to clear that night, just as the moon peaked overhead, the witch and the girl were attacked. They were ambushed.

The loud yells of men enveloped the surroundings of the witches resident.

Men of all sizes came in groups, carrying pitchforks and torches of flames.

"Tonight is the night the evil witch of the forest dies!"

As one men yells, the others followed suit.

The girl and the witch hidden within the trees, short of lucky to have not have been seen, hid aghast.

"Evil witch?" the girl questioned in a whisper.

"Hush my child," replied the witch.

Moving steathly in the shadow of the moonlight, the girl and the witch tried to flee the scene.

However they were caught before they could even escape!

"I've caught the witch!" one man cried.

"Bring her in!" shouted another.

A wave of triumphs roared over the men.

"There is a girl too!" a third man roared over the cheers.

"Take her in and burn them both at the stake!"

"Ay!!" as the men roared in delight.

The girl, scared out of her wits struggled against the grasps of the men.

"Be still my child!" the witch soothed quietly. "All will be alright."

The girl looked at the witch frightened. Breathing out the cold frost of the night, the girl and the witch were taken and holsted up at the stakes.

Laughter and snickering remarks filled the air of the night, in preperation of their execution.

"Any last word, witch?" a man asked, torch ready in his hand.

"Ay," croaked the witch.

Looking up at the night sky, the moonlight lit dimmer that night as oppose to the previous, making the air feel prickly and eerie as the witch beamed overhead.

"Ah... my child," the witch started to say. "A happy birthday to you."

The girl, without realising, had tears trickle from her eyes. She didn't know what say. She didn't know what to do.

"My child," the witch's voice was hoarse. "Your name..." she took a shallow breathe in. "Your name my child, I will give for you to bear, will be Cyra. Cyra... meaning Born of Light."

The girl born of flames, now has a name. Cyra. It is Cyra!

Cyra looked at the witch behind tears.

"My name..." Cyra whispered. "Cyra... it is lovely. Thank you... I will accept it... Mother."

Gasps echoes through the crowd and whispers then followed.

"Mother?"

"The witch as a daughter?!"

"That is impossible..."

The witch smiled, her face looking as haggard as when she saved Cyra as a baby all those years ago, looked content.

Then flames eruped, slowly engulfing the witch at the stake.

The witch howled.

Unmoving, Cyra looked. Then all suddenly, everything went red.And everything became silent to the girl.

Cyra roared in despair.

"Burn the girl up quick!" yelled one man. "She is a witch too!"

But alas, the men failed.

Unbeknownst of the origin of the girl, they didn't know she was the girl born of flames.

Cyra you see, she was immune to fire. She can control it, however she was still new to fully control it with ease.

Her scream and rage bellowed the air as her mother burned.

But all was quiet to Cyra's ears. Her rage had manifested uncontrollably, setting her free from the stake.

"The girl is fr - "

But the man was cut off. His head... was gone.

Cyra raged that night, clumsily controlling the flames, engulfing all the men that burnt her mother.

Pillers of fire raged the witches house and its surrounding. It was a sea of flames like the flames of hell.

Cyra continued to roar in anguish as everything around her turned to ashes.

"M-m-monster!" the last remaining man cried.

"Nay!" Cyra bellowed above him.

"My name is Cyra! The Girl born of Flames! The Sorceress, of this Forest!"

And so Cyra extinguished the last remaining man, until his ashes laid bare and scattered on the floor.

"Be gone from MY forest!"

-The End-