#that despite them going out of their way to go to a village not associated with vy/ke there's still the frenzy

[lrdvyke]

[COMFORT]: sender cups a distressed receiver's face in their hands and steadies them by resting their foreheads together + from @goldhunt

It is not the village underneath the Church of Inhibition. Nor is it near the tower with its constant yellow flame, brought forth by those on their last dregs of life. They give their all to the Frenzy, hoping for a higher chance, but it wastes them away. No. It is not that. Instead, this village is merely for the ailing. Once brought low by a nameless plague until the Frenzy came through, took over the rest and infected their already broken minds. Vyke swears he can handle this village, filled with people in yellow rags to denote their sickness. ( Where are his? ) They stare off into the flame, unaware of anyone nearby until you touch them first.

He can handle it. He has done so before. He can now.

Voices stop him. They whisper. Some croon. Others yell. Indecipherable. A jumble altogether, ceaseless. A melody too, hopeless and somber, ekes out in the distance. There is an echo to it, as if within a cave. Perhaps in the depths? Far, far below. The voices continue. He cannot tell from where, nor can he tell what they are saying. Still. It surrounds him. The Flame grows brighter and brighter, until it is swallows everything whole. A wriggle inside his mind, it reaches forth. Try to grasp. The voices only grow louder. A moan. ( Is it him? ) Only one thing is understandable: the plea for succor.

Ah, there you are.

His eye burst alight with blinding pain, as teeth grit and body contorts backwards. A loud roar fills his head, fills his entire being. Calm hands touch him then. A chill to them, but also a steady strength. Fingertips press into his burning flesh at the sides, but he wants to pull them away. He wants to get out of the grip. But they remain, pulling upon him instead and bringing him forward. His hands are ripped off of his eyes, feeling his face cradled. There is a gentleness that is at odds with the pain, and Vyke tries to focus on it. He tries. Even as his body finally crumples forward, no longer locked in place. He feels Darian close, holding him up so precariously.

❛ I'm here, ❜ Vyke whispers. Breathless. He keeps his eyes closed though, knowing that what his forehead rests upon is Darian's own—not willing to tempt the Frenzy out despite the craving deeply rooted inside of him. ❛ I'm here. ❜

@goldhunt !

[val-of-the-north]

My friend @katyspersonal made an interesting observation about the flowers that were once found on the path to Midra's Mense. Here's her post on the matter for reference [x].

The flower connection seems way too meaningful to be accidental, especially since the two people in charge of the Mense are not Hornsent at all...

Now, we can't know for sure whether Midra, Nanaya, or both were Shamans or at least related, but the connection IS there, which I doubt was placed randomly.

But yeah, speaking of Hornsent, they were indeed punished for associating with Midra. As my friend pointed out in an earlier post [x], this dialogue wouldn't fit if it was simply due to the Flame of Frenzy business going on there, especially since the ghost that welcomes us is very well aware of the madness.

It's also worth pointing out that the Madding Hand's face resembles that of the other Hornsent who use player models, meaning his fellows are probably other Hornsent too.

Whoever this group of Hornsent was, it's clear they did not care about his lack of horns and simply served Midra, possibly due to him being wise and knowledgeable...

Either that, or there are ways for people without horns to get privileges and benefits even in Hornsent society. Maybe it is still due to his vast array of knowledge, but it wouldn't be too outlandish to think Midra found ways to be productive to the Hornsent and was thus rewarded for his efforts. Until they grew suspicious of him, of course. But his Hornsent attendants seem rather loyal to him despite that.

Which leads me to a different point regarding Marika herself...

The two Hornsent NPCs that we can actually interact with both mention some sort of betrayal from Marika.

To be betrayed means that there was some semblance of trust between them and her that she broke, which would seem odd at first glance, but we must take into consideration what she did to attain godhood. She had to have reached the Gates of Divinity (as shown in the cinematic trailer), which are found in the holiest, most guarded part of Belurat's tower: Enir-Ilim.

And this must have happened BEFORE the Crusade and Messmer, as evidenced by a few things:

1) The Hornsent mention the Erdtree a bunch, which we know was established after a few different conflicts. At the very least, the war against the Giants must have happened before the Crusade, as the Age of the Erdtree began then.

Marika was also already considered a god at the time, she had a consort in Godfrey, and the Crucible was yet to be seen as heretical due to their employment of Crucible Knights. There's also the very likely possibility that Radagon was spawned from that conflict as a curse of the Giants inflicted upon Marika, which would work to explain where the red hair came from.

It might also tell us WHEN Messmer was born in that case, and speaking of...

2) Messmer's condition, or rather, all the things Marika had done for his sake, seem to have happened AFTER the establishment of the Erdtree, as they feature heavy gold and tree motifs. To have control of Grace so great that she could create the rune she most likely gave to Messmer strongly hints at her having already become a god.

The Blessing of Marika also fits the criteria of a thing she had to have made after her ascension to godhood because of its heavy arboreal theme and the fact that two Tree Sentinels (who defend her home village) are holding onto them as well, further hinting at the existence of the Erdtree by this point in time.

Both of these items relate to Messmer and both of their descriptions already identify Marika as a Queen. I wonder if this means Marika returned to her home one last time after she became a god as opposed to when she started her journey toward divinity. Her last acknowledgment of her past before leaving it behind forever.

3) Messmer was also friends with Gaius, who studied with Radahn, and they were both like older brothers to him.

This means the Crusade and Messmer's banishment could not have happened earlier than many years AFTER the Liurnian wars, as evidenced by the presence of the Carian kids. This point is also strengthened by Rellana being close to Messmer and having to prove her loyalty to the Erdtree in ritual combat.

This means that Marika reaching the Gates of Divinity and the Crusade happened at two different points in time, which seems to align with how the Hornsent word things. She betrayed them, then set them ablaze.

What's left to wonder is HOW it happened. I think it was either:

A) She waged a first war against them with the aid of Hoarax Loux (not Godfrey yet, as there was no reason to conduct himself as a lord), his clan, and the Crucible Knights to consolidate her godhood. Maliketh could have also been involved. The Hornsent, then, simply see being supplanted as a betrayal regardless of whether they knew about Marika or not, or...

B) She found a sneakier way to get there through careful planning and climbing the social ladder of Hornsent society, maybe with contact and guidance from the Two Fingers. If the latter is true, I assume she still had Maliketh's support and Hoarax Loux on speed dial for whenever the chance to claim divinity arrived, as she would still need a consort for that and we know he was her first husband.

Both ideas are compelling to me and make sense in their own right. Still, the thought that she could have actually infiltrated their society and made them trust her just to usurp and double-cross them feels very fascinating, especially since the Hornsent specifically mention Marika betraying them. It makes me wonder what Tower society is really like to non-horned people since some Hornsent can even become very loyal to those with an explicit lack of horns.

Marika's betrayal could also explain why the Inquisition would later turn on Midra despite him seemingly having enjoyed some levity or respect in the past. Perhaps they believed he'd pull a similar stunt to Marika's (or maybe they acted that way because he was directly related to her? idk honestly)... though their preventive actions inadvertently caused even more problems by having the resulting despair attract the Three Fingers to what would become the Abyssal Woods.

Of course, it's unclear if the Mense's downfall happened before, after, or concurrently with Marika's path to divinity, but I think it's worth considering as an option at least!

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

To Whisper Your Name pt.1

Konig x Reader Roman Goddess AU

Warnings: Violence ( minor character deaths), Roman deity inaccuracies, history inaccuracies, talks of SA 

Reader is loosely based on the Roman Goddess Felicitas (Goddess of good fortune and luck)

It is not rare for minor gods/ goddesses to go unthought of. Some rise to fame as others are forgotten. Not many remember the deities of flowers, trees, or other smaller things. They remember Jupiter, Neptune, Venus. The greats, the Gods. Smaller gods go about their lives enjoying the few who do remember them. The small alters the mortals create for them, adorned with what is associated with said deity. They get offerings, praise, songs sung in their name.

Others are forgotten. Some deities share common rulings and the more famous deity gets the praise. They get the offerings, the songs, the alters. They get the memories. The smaller deity is left to watch humanity progress, knowing they are nothing to them but a passing face. Some grow depressed, heartbroken to be forgotten. Some grow mad, killing those who pray to the more famous deity. Most are unhappy or indifferent. They are too out of touch with humanity, differences between God and mortals being too many to connect with one another. 

Despite all, you connect. The goddess of good fortune and luck, or as I should say, the small goddess of good fortune and luck. Throughout time, as you were forgotten and Fortuna rose to fame, you assimilated with the mortals. The fascination overtaking the grief pushed you to live among them. You aren’t well known among your village, just a simple face that passes by occasionally. Your home resides along the lake, a small and hidden house, property of an old man you met years before. You became like family to him, knowing who you are, he did his research. He offered you home, community, he offered you the human experience. 

It was a quiet life, predictable, quaint. You go to the fishing grounds, bless the unsuspecting fishermen. You do the same to the cloth weavers, the doctors, the children playing. None may know, but fortune is on their side. It was a simple existence, a comfortable one. 

A change happened at nightfall. Taking a late night walk was common, having no need for sleep. You’d walk a few miles, stay in a tree, maybe take a swim, then head back to your home. Tonight was no different. You opted to stay in a tree in a nearby forest, taking in the night sky, constellations seeming to taunt you with an unknown reason. Memories of when you were among the other deities fill your mind, a bittersweet taste left in your mind. Shouting and the crunching of twigs below rip you from your thoughts, whimpers from women below causing the hair on your arms to stand up.

Below, you see a small group of women with their arms shackled to a long chain. There are 2 men, daggers glinting in the moonlight. There’s no torch, no lantern, to light their way. It’s clear they are trying to be unseen, to steal these women. They adorn Roman clothing, as do the women, and seem to be heading away from the village. 

“Please I’m begging you, I have children! They have no father and no one to look for them” A woman begs shakily.

“Then we will be back for them. I know someone who would pay bronze for youth like them” A man cackles and shoves the woman for her noise.

“Oh Gods, Please save us, if you can hear me” A woman whispers, kissing her hands and raising them to the sky.

Her voice is so broken, as if she's unable to conjure hope. Heart aching for these women but unable to physically intervene, you bless them.

“Luck be upon you” Falls from your lips in the form of a whisper.

As they are almost gone, a branch snapping catches the men's attention. Heads whipping in the direction of the noise was their first mistake. A soldier in Roman attire sneaks behind the leading man, dagger cutting through his throat as if it were simply fat. 

The other three men turn and draw their weapons, preparing for attack. Their stance resembles that of a cornered, angry cat. One other soldier emerges from the dark. His towering frame, only being able to be described as a giant, unsheathed his sword from his holster. The glare from the moonlight shining off his sword gives an eerie and unsettling feeling in an already disturbing situation. 

“Give in and come willingly, or face the same fate as your foolish leader” His voice is higher pitched than expected, yet still effectively intimidating. His accent is foreign, sounding from the north. 

Ignorance clearly being their strong suit, the smugglers charge at the giant, only to be met immediately with a blade. The first one falls and seconds later, the other one is ripped through, practically in half, blood spilling like a never ending prayer. The men are ripped through like a tarp, eyes widening and dulling over.

 The last man remaining drops his weapon, falling to his knees like a worshiper to their God. The giant stalks towards him, gripping his hair and tilting him back. You can feel the fear radiating off of the smaller man's body, most likely praying to the gods as the women they stole did. 

“Your incompetence fails you. What were you planning for them?” He demands, gesturing to the women. They cower under the man's gaze.

The man remains silent, his mouth gaping like a fish, in search of words.

“Have mercy, please!” He begs, tears seeming to form.

The giant chuckles in an unamused manner, “Were you to have mercy on them? The gods have turned their backs on you. Now I will ask you again” He grips tighter, voice low and in a low growl, “What. Were. You. Planning? Who is your superior?”

The man refuses to answer and is swiftly met with a blade, as he serves no purpose. The giant and his partner turn their attention to the women, moving to remove their shackles. The women seem more frightened of them than they did the men that stole them. Perhaps it's because these men are soldiers, making it easy for them to be overpowered. 

“Where are you from?” The giant asks a woman as he removes the shackles. The woman says she was visiting her family in a nearby village when the men came. The other women say something similar.

“It seems they had a type. Easily able to make them disappear if they only have a couple connections in a different village.” The other man states, the giant nodding. 

They move the women to the same town you live in, keeping them in a new location until they find the leader of whatever ring they were getting sold into. You climb down the tree and quietly follow behind. The women are escorted to a separate cluster home and the men head to what seems to be a military station building.

Before the giant walks into the building, he looks behind him out of habit and spots you already looking at him. You quickly turn and walk away, not trying to attract unwanted attention. You make it to the lake before you hear a twig snap, someone being with you. Knowing who it is, you don't even bother to turn around, staying still. 

“Why did you run?” He asked in an accusatory tone, walking up to you. His frame towers over you, his shadow overtaking yours. You turn towards him, finally meeting his eyes. His face is covered in a cloth, his eyes being the only exposed area. His gaze is stern, like that of a king. 

“I've never seen a soldier like you before” you lie seamlessly, appearing innocent, “When you saw me, I worried I would possibly provoke you. Some soldiers around here hate when we stare”

He looks down at you, head slightly tilting. In mock or curiosity, you can't tell. There’s a long pause of silence, neither of you moving.

“Sir?” You ask quietly, “May I go back home now? I fear it will worry my family if I am out too late”

“You will meet me in the town square tomorrow at dusk,” He states, turning to walk away, “I will find you if you fail to come. Do not make that mistake, flos”

[centaurianthropology]

Ashton and Silence

One of the things that has fascinated me this campaign is how ready-built Ashton is to be a leader, but how Taliesin plays low charisma to constantly stop them from being one.  Ashton has great ideas, and tends to be one of the two most grounded members of the group.   He has excellent moral intelligence (far better than they’ll admit), and one-on-one Ashton excels at talking people down from their worst points.  

But they also are in constant pain, and they’ve spent their entire life being told that they’re worthless as anything other than a slab of muscle.  So they silence themselves.  And the more unfamiliar the environment or the more people around them, the more they clam up.

Last episode was one of the best examples I’ve seen yet.  Ashton was almost entirely silent this episode.  He admitted to hating camping, likely to do with the chronic pain, but also to do with the unfamiliar environment.  Ashton is a city barbarian through and through, and they thrive in cities.  They are far more confident in cities, even when they don’t know them as well as Jrusar or Bassuras.  But the wilderness?  On an unknown continent?  He’s already on the wrong foot.

And then they go to the village, and before they know it things are spiraling.  It turns out this place was a powderkeg waiting to blow, with two factions that are, at least from appearance, both highly suspect.  The Vasselheim faction are clearly outsiders come here to impose their culture on the locals, taking too much from their land, bleeding their farms dry for distant tribute, and recently sending more and more armed thugs and more religious oppression.  Add to that the Flameguide being clearly an asshole who won’t listen to reason (very classic lawful stupid paladin, and I agree with Emily, likely a Conquest Paladin, some of the worst to deal with), and the Dawnfather folks are clearly assholes who aren’t wanted there.

But though the townsfolk in general seem sympathetic and just want to live free and worship as they will, their charismatic leader also seems to be full-on with Ruby Vanguard ideology.  She wants to tear the gods down, mistaking gods who are behind a divine gate and can’t interact with humans without a great deal of faith, with the corrupt religious institutions that sprung up around them.  But at the same time she gives a distinct feeling of hating those institutions because she’s not them.  She flat-out said that she didn’t want to stop with the town.  She wanted her own elemental worship to take over the world.

It’s a great set-up, because the townsfolk just want to be free, so they’re throwing in their lot with someone who has grand and terrible ambitions.  It’s Ludinus writ small, and playing out on an intimate scale.

And the team wasn’t really given any choice.  Once they were exploring the options, they were already sort of stuck with the elementalists.  And they mostly just want to prevent casualties, but the people in charge of those potential casualties have no care for the people who could die.  They see only glory and their own faith.

Orym spoke up, because that’s what Orym does.  But Orym’s confidence has been shaken, and there was little to no way he was going to manage to sway two fanatics.  Denise sort-of spoke up, as did Laudna, both trying but both also failing.  Bor’Dor and Prism were both basically on the side of ‘let’s fuck up the gods, whoo!’ from the off, Bor’Dor because he doesn’t really know what’s going on, and Prism out of academic bitterness.  In another life, she would have been hard-core Rube Vanguard fairly easily.

And then there’s Ashton, silent in the back, deeply uncomfortable, surrounded by an elementalist group that feels a lot like a cult with a charismatic leader.  How much must he be associating this with the Hishari?  Does it have any connection?  Some remnant faction?  Are they fighting on the side of his nightmares?

But they say nothing.  They stay silent.  They are barely noticed, despite being a big rock person in an elemental-worshipping town.  People should be all over them in fascination, but they aren’t, because Ashton has practically vanished.  They needed to speak up.  They needed to stand with Orym to try to de-escalate things, but instead they are sneaking in the background.  Why?  Lack of confidence.  Self-loathing.  Fear.  This is where Asthon’s low charisma springs from: they will never trust themselves to do the right thing, to say the right words, to really step up and be counted.  So they hide, and things crumble.

[hanafubukki]

Gothel and Lilia Parallels/Tangled & Cassandra 

I was talking to Mumble ( @/081314) and Amy ( @/the-knaves-world) and how Lilia has a lot of elements from Gothel (From Tangled)

Gothel

Lilia’s new title from the 3rd Anniversary update has been Seeker of Cradles. We know that Gothel kidnapped Rapunzel because she has the healing properties/ablility to reverse age from the flower.

Rapunzel is also the kidnapped princess and with the theories that Silver could be a descendant from the Knight of Dawn, that could make him royalty.

Then we come to the age aspect. Gothel kidnapped Rapunzel so she can use her to become young again. Who else do we know that is old and lacking magic? Lilia Vanrouge, who can’t use his magic and is dying.

On top of that, Lilia has been hiding many secrets especially from Silver. As can also be seen with Gothel and how she hid Rapunzel’s background from her.

If Silver has symbolisms from Rapunzel, then he might also have her abilities as well. The power to heal. In the movie, Rapunzel brought back Eugene with her tears...and who else do we know has been crying? Silver. Maybe it is his tears that heals Lilia? Maybe returns his magic? It would make sense and is in parallel with the live action Maleficent 2 Movie. Since it was Aurora’s tears that brought back Maleficent. If that is the case, that means that Lilia can then help bring down Malleus’ OB.

Most of the Flowers that Lilia has been associated with recently has had healing properties to them, so hoping (please) that means that one way or another Lilia will be healed (or have more time with his sons).

We know that Silver and Lilia lived far away from other villagers, but we don’t know why. Mumble and I assumed it could be because Silver has so many qualities of the Knight of Dawn. Time will only tell why that is so. Gothel kept Rapunzel away so she can keep the child to herself and use her powers.

Lilia, despite becoming weak in the sun, has been in many sun related events. The sun symbol is the main design in the kingdom of Corona. Not only that, but Gothel literally became dust out the window when she fell out of the tower. It was bright and sunny outside, despite the cold and dark inside the tower. Not saying that will happen to Lilia, but he is weak and dying is he not?

Bringing back the point that Eugene got stabbed and then healed by Rapunzel, who got hurt recently in Chapter 4? Protecting Silver no less? Do you see where I am going with this? It points that someway somehow Lilia might get healed and Silver might be the reason. (Love heals all, does it not?)

Back when I was really into Tangled, I read this post that talked about how Rapunzel was raised not to show emotions. We have seen how Fae have trouble expressing themselves, verbally and emotionally. We have seen how Lilia’s role in Malleus’ and Silver’s life has affected them so. Malleus having to act and always keep the image of a king. Then we have Silver, who expressed how he has trouble showing how he feels and how that troubles him (Silver Dorm SSR). That is until we get to book 7 and he breaks down in front of Malleus which ends up cascading to the whole OB event. All of this to say, Gothel raised Rapunzel not to show physical affection and when it was needed, Rapunzel would seek comfort from her and no one else. Just like how Silver can only seek comfort from those he is close with. (though, to be fair, those he is close with know him better than anyone else and we have seen how NRC reacts to how chivalrous Silver is)

Sun Drop/Moon Drop Symbolisms & Cassandra 

Elements from the animated series can be seen as well.

We know that Silver and Malleus have traits that are the same and yet opposites as well,

Silver gives off light vibes. He always had his animal friends even when Lilia was away. Malleus gives off dark vibes. He has always been alone despite being surrounded by people. Silver has lived in a cottage out in the forrest with plenty of sun while Malleus (if we go by animated movie vibes and aesthetics and what we have learned from him) probably lived in a dark atmosphere at the castle, only escaping to visit the others.

There's also the fact that Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek are a type of Dark Fae. Silver is not Fae and could be a descendent of Knight of Dawn. You know dawn, which is the light before the sun rises.

The Sun drop has healing properties. Silver has symbolisms in pastels (which is of course in correlation with Sleeping beauty as well).

The Moon drop is destructive, causes death, decay, ruin, and destruction. It can also drain the life force and vital essence from living things, such as plants and people. Which we know is what's happening with Malleus’ magic as it expands and destroys the nature around him. How people can die if they don't get rescued from this dream world soon.

The moon drop can summon black rock spines...which in instances can look like thorns. The Moon drop can also keep track of the sun drop, as it always knows its location.

Gothel played a role in the animated series as well. She neglected her daughter, Cassandra, and then abandoned her once she kidnapped Ranunzel. To condense what happened in the series, theres misunderstandings which eventually leads to Rapunzel and Cassandra butting heads. In short, Malleus and Silver are currently butting heads. 

Cassandra and Silver has parallels too. Lilia often went traveling leaving Silver behind. (We don’t know to what degree the Zigvolts took care of him nor how often Malleus visited). Silver had to fend for himself and do chores in the cottage. Cassandra would often get left behind while Gothel would got about doing her own business, leaving Cass to fend for herself. 

Cassandra repressed her memories of Gothel and grew to be a mature, intelligent, and skilled fighter. She had the dream to become a Royal Guard just like her adopted father. Who else do we know that shares those same ambitions? Silver who’s adopted father is the General of the Royal Family.

Cassandra is loyal to the King and Queen but was willing to break rules  and lose her job to make Rapunzel happy. Silver is willing to to go against Malleus so Lilia can do what he wished despite his actions hurting all three of them. Silver is also willing to go against his King to stop him knowing that it is wrong and Malleus is not in his right mind and knowing that Malleus is suffering while OB.

Reuniting the two stones are said to bring ultimate power, but what if in this case, Humans and Faes getting along brings peace? (Its not like we can yeet Silver and Malleus to space lol)

Alternatively, we have seen how Malleus has used his powers to fix the stage in Book 5. We have seen how Malleus healed Vil. Maybe, once Silver helps brings Malleus back, both Malleus and Silver can heal Lilia. The ultimate power is the love they share for Lilia, the sun and moon, which ultimately heals. Like how Cass died, but Rapunzel used the two stones to bring her back. (Malleus magic does deal with nature and we have seen how connected to nature and magic the Fae are and Silver has always also had a connection to animals/nature).

Fun Fact: Hikaru Midorikawa was one of the singers in “I see the Light”... I bet Lilia is seeing the light alright--okay, okay, I’ll stop 😂( I know a few people who are going to give me looks for that lolol)

(Disney really out here saying we should focus on the movies and the animated shows 😂, I did not expect to delve into Cassandra as much as I did but it all makes so much sense).

[nyaagolor]

Just finished Higurashi Arc 7 (Minagoroshi) and imma be honest with yall, I was not really vibing with the plot twist until i started thinking about it less as something to take at face value and more something to engage with as an extended metaphor. Higurashi as a complete work has four major thematic categories to me (agency, community, delusion, and fate) and Himinizawa Syndrome feels more narratively satisfying as an interconnection of those themes than as a home-stretch scifi twist (hear me out)

Ryukishi has an interview where he talks about his reasoning behind the plot twist, explaining that he wanted the audience to challenge their implicit biases around the ideas of mental illness and agency-- namely "if someone commits murder under the act of a drug, why are they not culpable when someone who does the same under the effects of a severe mental illness IS culpable?". From a metatextual standpoint, this serves as a challenge to the audience, but I think this framing has implications for the themes as well. Minagoroshi spends a lot of time focusing on the interaction between the themes we've been introduced to throughout the series, namely in the sense that if enough people believe something, it becomes reality. This is used in the context of Rika's miracle, the ostracism of Satoko by the villagers, and the delusions experienced by the "infected" themselves. It's not about the actual reality of the situation-- if a delusion is such a strongly held belief to an individual or community that it inspires action, that belief "becomes" real, and this is the part I think applies to Himinizawa Syndrome and Takano

The way that Takano talks about Himinizawa Syndrome and the way that people are encouraged to act based on her words is a pretty good mirror of the symptoms of the "disease" itself. She self isolates, operating entirely based on her own skewed view of the world and the people around her while engaging in conspiratorial thinking and retroactive explanation. Keiichi, Rena, Shion, and Satoko all develop Himinizawa Syndrome, but we see throughout the arcs how many people and situations act as instigators to exacerbate preexisting traumas and mental health conditions. The disease also only starts progressing when they're in Himinizawa, not "far from their queen" like Takano suggests. The fact that the nature of the delusions-- from their actual content to their frequency and the lines of the thinking the characters go down-- are extremely specific and more associated with the individual traumas and illness we know them to have further pushes me in that direction. Despite Takano insisting that lymph node itchiness is a symptom of Himinizawa Syndrome, the only people who experience it are those who knew about it beforehand. We have the benefit of knowing the loops, but Takano's "explanations" of symptoms feel more like working backwards from observable but likely unconnected events rather than something based on reality, which is exactly the kind of rationale that Rena was experiencing in the height of her own delusions

While I do think that Himinizawa is textually supposed to be an actual Thing, it makes more sense to me to view it as Takano's own false belief, made into a tangible reality because she believed in it enough to convince others of the same. We never see the "tragedy" that's supposed to happen after Rika's death, only that people acted because they believed it was coming. This-- the whole "a shared delusion becomes reality and thus fate itself" thing-- feels very thematically satisfying as a sort of final conflict for the series. Takano, the big bad villain, is stuck in a self fulfilling prophecy in a way, taking agency in such a way that she falls victim to her own actions. She believed so strongly in a "curse" that it became real, and ironically enough under her own definition, she is the one suffering from this "disease" she created the most

(Also Ryukishi loves tackling political issues so the idea that the local rural Japanese government of 1983 would misidentify and mistreat the mental illnesses of some teenagers isn't that out of left field to me)

[naaijas]

♛ → THE NORTH present(s) NAIJA JANNAT MANDERLY, the LADY of WHITE HARBOR. when the dragons danced in the sky they thought the BLACKS would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the TWENTY-EIGHT year old FEMALE who was REVERENTIAL & BENEVOLENT before they saw the first of the flames, is now ALOOF & RETICENT after seeing the last. they’re often associated with the glimmer of a freshly plucked pearl, the nurturing pressure of a tightly wrapped bandage, and a lingering cloud of sea salt, vanilla and cinnamon. ( antonia gentry fc )

- every notable action that naija's taken to date, has been on her own time, and her birth was the first to be seen of it. she'd been born only a few minutes after amir, but it was enough to strike fear into those who witnessed. they feared the babe would perish, but she emerged with an ear-piercing cry, awaking one of the same pitch in her older brother. the manderly twins had finally arrived, healthy and mighty as they would be for years to come.

- being the last born child of hashim and manal manderly has given naija plenty to look up to. she holds her parents ahind siblings in the highest regard when she gets the chance to verbalize it, with her late father and sister being the focus of those conversations. while she may not agree with everything they do, (and will respectfully let them know her displeasure), she will defend them until her last breath. marriage may be wading within the tides, but naija will always be a manderly at heart.

-while all known efforts in war to come from the youngest manderly are quiet acts of service and aid, she was very vocal during the search for manal, going as far as to try to venture out herself. heavy guard kept her plans from coming to fruition though, and without her twin there to anchor her she fell into a deep darkness. her recovery didnt bring much alleviation to naijas mental state. it broke whatever was left of her soul to see manal in such a state, and she exhausted every effort to help her return to some semblance of the sister she admired so dearly.

- the death of manal manderly ii dealt a devastating blow. with her father since passed, and amir seemingly silent in skagos, she found herself clinging to the shreds of family she had left. shes become fiercely supportive of nasir despite the deep rooted respect she already had for the way he led the family through hashims death and every other tragedy since. it strikes a new fear in her when he must leave for his duty as hand of the king, often inventing reasons she should come along. she far from possesses the physical traits to protect him, but she still feels as though she must try.

- naija focuses a busy mind on humanitarian efforts, first and foremost. her most cherished act of charity is the education of lowerborn girls. she teaches them to read and write, using stories of the seven as the framework of her lessons. they bring comfort to both teacher and pupils, and it helps her feel connected to her faith during hard times. during times of war, she can be found nursing wounded soldiers to health and distributing food to those who come to white harbor from battle-ravaged villages.

- the arts hold a special place in the youngest manderly's heart, and that love extends past mere spectation. naija often associates sounds and feelings with colors, and will paint what she feels if the pull is strong enough. tucked away in a chest of drawers are countless works, most are vivid recollections of conversations that elicited an emotion from her, and acts as a catalyst for her to understand them better. amir may be the only one who can even begin to decipher the meaning behind them.

- matters of the realm are far beyond her knowledge, but she can say that her support for owen and his vision for the north are strong. she tends to fall in line with the eldest manderly's views, but this is decision shes made for herself. the time for change in north has been brewing, and she's prepared for a shift in the tides.

[pyramidcurse]

Bloody Roses AU - Explanation

Bloody Roses is an au that formed from a vague idea I had at 1 am. The first concept was Creek & Floyd centric, being that Creek was a vampire, Floyd wasn't, and BroZone were (or, in Branch's case, still are) vampire hunters. This was tweaked in the final draft I went with - BroZone was a boyband like always, vampires exist, and werewolves exist in a (MOSTLY) non-troll effecting way.

In Bloody Roses, the bergens and the mount rageons aren't a threat. So no Chef, no V&V, and, most importantly, no Creek betrayal. In theory, it's set near the tail end of World Tour, though Barb isn't doing a rockapocalypse or anything like that - Funkfam have found each other again, Hickory & Dickory aren't pretending to be a country troll, trolls of different genres are, mostly, on good terms with each other (minus personal affairs).

Scene setting out of the way - onto characters.

I created these charts to make character explanations a bit easier, but they can be a bit confusing, so I'll break it down character by character, in no particular order. If someone isn't mentioned, it's solely because they're not on the chart. The Vacaytioners are only mentioned for world building purposes.

VAMPIRES

POPPY - Poppy is the queen of Pop Village. The day of her coronation, she was attacked and turned into a vampire. Determined to keep her village from freaking out, she suppresses her vampiric urges and keeps this a secret from everyone besides The Snack Pack. She works hard to try and socialize and make Branch comfortable, developing a crush on him, despite her own nervousness about him and his anti-vampire paranoia.

JOHN DORY - John Dory became a vampire the night of the BroZone incident. He is unable to fully suppress his vampiric urges, although he tries his hardest. He misses his brothers a lot, but he knows it's better to be separated. He travels constantly to keep his bloodlust from getting too prevalent, and during these travels he encountered Delta, who very quickly wrangled him out of Lonesome Flats. He managed to convince her he wasn't a threat, mostly by staying out of Lonesome Flats, and developed a few romantic feelings for her.

CREEK - Creek is a vampire by birth. He hides this from Pop Village, with most just thinking he's a bit odd, and willingly moved into the forest to 'improve himself'. He pretends he was driven out, though, in an effort to manipulate trolls into believing he's harmless. He's not very popular in Pop Village, most just seeing him as a weird forest loner. Delta regularly has to wrangle him out of Lonesome Flats, leading to a tense mutual hatred between the two of them.

BARB - Barb is a vampire since birth. She's incredibly open about her vampirism, even going so far as to offer every rock troll the choice to become one whenever they want. She's in contact with Viva and the loners, housing those without fear of vampires in Volcano Rock City. She's an older sister figure to Clay, although she's not a very good influence.

WEREWOLVES

VACAYTIONERS - The Vacaytioners are all werewolves, but there is no real fear of them in trolls. Lycanthropy can't be transmitted to trolls, and vampires don't like to stick around werewolves for whatever reason. The Vacaytioners are also, generally, very calm and mellow, and Vacay Island is something of a safe haven for trolls with intense fear of vampires, which leads to them having a very positive association.

HICKORY & DICKORY - Hickory & Dickory are an odd case for trolls. They were born with the ability to be infected with lycanthropy, which eventually ended up happening, making their physical & mental health jump around often. Most trolls don't believe them, which leads into them being pretty secluded from others. They have a close sibling-esque bond with Delta Dawn, as she's the only troll who really believes them & worries about them.

TROLLS

BRANCH - Branch is an intensely paranoid shut-in. Very few people know where his bunker is, and he only appears in Pop Village once in a blue moon. He's very sensitive about the topic of his brothers, besides Floyd, refusing to talk about them even if someone knows them. He's incredibly afraid of vampires, having several traps and gadgets setup to keep them away or kill them. He's determined to never let one get close to him, although he can be a bit clueless if they don't fit his preconceived idea of them. He is, to some extent, a vampire hunter.

FLOYD - Floyd lives in Pop Village, although his entrance into it is fairly new. He struggles with connecting with other trolls, occasionally having fits of paranoia and discomfort due to the traumatic experience he endured - he tries his best to push past it, and with the help of his close friend (who happens to be a vampire) he's made substantial steps towards overcoming these fits. The comfort he feels around this friend evolves into romantic attraction after a while, although he does his best to keep it in.

BRUCE - Bruce left his two youngest brothers behind to try and find Clay, resulting in him nearly being attacked by vampires. He was saved by Brandi, who happened to be gathering ingredients for her family restaurant, and he was taken into Vacay Island, where he's been too guilt-ridden and otherwise busy to leave since. He and John Dory still talk, and they're fairly friendly with each other. He feels guilty about the incident, feeling as if everything could've been prevented if he'd stayed behind, which impacts his friendship with Floyd, as he can't talk to him without a sense of unease.

CLAY - Clay was separated from his brothers and picked up by Viva, shortly after the incident. He retained his identity as the "fun" one for a while, in an attempt to leave pieces of himself behind so his brothers could find him, before Viva helped him work through his issues and he abandoned the idea of them finding him. He works with Viva to help the loners, taking up the serious side of the operation.

VIVA - Viva runs a rag-tag gang of "loners", taking in any and everyone who was separated from their groups either intentionally or unintentionally by vampire attacks. She works to help them healthily get over the fear of vampires they develop from their experiences, replacing it with the ability to fight to survive. She's learned through her friendship with Barb that not all vampires are evil or monstrous, which she also assists the "loners" in figuring out.

DELTA DAWN - Delta Dawn is the mayor and sheriff of Lonesome Flats, wrangling and kicking out any and all threats with little to no remorse. She cares deeply for Hickory & Dickory in an older sister way, caring for and homing them when their physical health plummets.

THIS GUY.

CHAZ - Chaz is... A siren? A succubus? A mix of both? No one's quite sure, but they do know he's a pain in the ass. He works as a bounty hunter, and not much else is really known about him. Very widely hated. Lol.

THE BROZONE INCIDENT.

Formatting may be odd, as I ripped this straight from a Twitter thread I made.

instead of brozone disbanding how it did, the bros were on their way to a live performance when they got entrapped by vampires. jd "sacrificed himself" and ushered bruce off w/ other bros in tow. he returned later that day & bruce thought everything was okay, until jd, a freshly turned vampire who had no real control over himself, attacked floyd when nighttime came. rosiepuff sacrificed herself for realsies to distract jd long enough for the other bros to flee to pop village, where floyds leg got amputated. on the way clay got lost & separated from everyone else, picked up by viva & the other loners, & bruce left to go find him, ending up being saved by brandi & beginning their long romance. branch & floyd stayed on the outskirts of pop village inside the bunker, neither going in until branch was truly old enough to take care of himself, as his paranoia was intense leading to it just being floyd whod enter & leave the village regularly - branch goes in to get supplies now and then but that's it.

[extraordinarilyextreme]

the element of fire plays a big role in YeQing's relationship.

for starters, let's examine the "answer" ZGQ divined for himself on Longhu-shan:

(manhua ch. 108; see also LA s1, ep. 13 & donghua s2, ep. 9)

飞蛾扑火 / the moth throws itself upon a flame. this idiom describes a self-destructive kind of conduct, where a person knowingly brings about their own doom. it represents, in other words, both a fatal and fated attraction.

from ZGQ's pov, it was—of course—laying his life on the line to comprehend one of the Eight Supremes:

(LA s1, ep. 13; see also manhua ch. 109 & donghua s2, ep. 10)

from WY's pov, it was befriending ZGQ despite knowing he harbors other intentions:

(LA s1, ep. 23; see also manhua ch. 191 & donghua s3, ep. 5)

as such, i'm not the biggest fan of how Youku tl'ed the line as "a meaningless struggle." because neither of their choices were meaningless. both of them were acting as Zhuge Liang had: 明知天理在 但是逆大势而行 / despite knowing full well that divine order and destiny exist, behaving in a manner that opposes the momentum of the times.

indeed, it could be argued that associating with each other was not in anyone's best interest. WY even remarks in Biyou Village:

"In truth, originally I could've not defeated you... No! Rather, it should be said that originally I could've not become acquainted with a scoundrel like you..." (manhua ch. 222; see also donghua s4, ep. 4)

which is what makes their relationship even more special. they were never supposed to meet—yet their meeting was inevitable. they are equals; they abide by the same principles, even if their methods are not always the same.

in the live-action adaptation in particular, 飞蛾扑火 is a lyric in 《戎断反应》, which is the song most associated with ZLH/XH (and also FSY/JZL in s1, ep. 17).

(LA s1, ep. 6)

so... make of that parallel what you will. (this is far from the only time YeQing are directly juxtaposed with other canon couples, but i'm specifically referring to the nature and context of ZLH/XH's "forbidden" relationship more than anything else.)

the element of fire also marks the progression of YeQing's relationship in other ways.

in the Longhu-shan arena, ZGQ launches a ball of fire at WY with 赤炼......

(LA s1, ep. 13; see also manhua ch. 108 & donghua s2, ep. 9)

...which is, strangely enough, the exact same spell ZGQ uses during Biyou Village arc to force WY out of danger:

(donghua s4, ep. 5; see also manhua ch. 228)

so the imagery of ZGQ and WY always being separated by [a wall of] fire is really striking to me.

significantly, fire is also the dominant element of the Zhuge family's ultimate skill, 三昧真火 / True Fire of Samadhi, which ZGQ was never able to master until he triumphed over his 心魔 (WY & the Feng-hou Qimen he possesses):

(manhua ch. 311)

so, fire has always stood in-between these two in some way. but, like moth to a flame, they will always find their way back to each other.

(i definitely think that's the direction the manhua is currently developing in at least, esp. given that ZGQ has now found peace with himself and how he regards WY.)

furthermore, in 五行 / five elements, fire signifies a pinnacle (i.e., combustion), with a decline sure to follow. pretty neat, then, that in the donghua s2 opening 《无涯》 / Limitless, WY and ZGQ are matched with the lyrics 缘起缘灭 / fate begins, fate extinguishes:

by 五行 standards, fire is also associated with the organ: heart. given that WY is ZGQ's 心魔 / lit. heart's demon, and also that (in WYLR's words) they've 推心置腹 / lit. given their heart into the other's keeping, i think that really is just more than fitting.

and—finally—fire is related to alchemy. to tempering, to refinement, and to permanent transformation. hence:

Zhuge Qing: unrestrained as the winds, ardent as a wildfire. Wang Ye is melting. He’ll never be able to go back. (from 青春归你 | my youth and yours)

YeQing inevitably altered the course of each other's lives. (but that's for a separate post～)

[childotkw]

Could you share with us some Regulus & Tobirama friendship shenanigans? Izuna's reactions to those shenanigans are very welcome xD

"And you're sure the earthquake wasn't your doing?" Izuna asked, blank-faced but despairing on the inside.

Tobirama - the asshole - nodded, still unfailingly calm despite the frantic movements of the shinobi around them, trying to put out the portion of the forest that was on fire. There was an Akimichi in the background desperately using doton to repair the fissures that had split open the ground.

Regulus at least had the grace to look guilty when Izuna turned to him. His friend was fretting quietly, watching the chaos around them with a little furrow in his brow while nibbling at his bottom lip. It was a confused kind of emotion though - the associated guilt a bystander might feel at not helping.

Izuna really wanted to sigh.

"Do you...know what caused the earthquake at least?" he asked, some exasperation slipping through. Fuck, but he had been dead asleep when the call had come in. He wasn't awake enough to be the responsible one.

"An unexpected shift in the earth's tectonic plates that exacerbated the current issues of this region," Tobirama rattled off, making Izuna squint at him. He was doing it deliberately, Izuna just knew it.

"It was a natural occurrence," Regulus translated. "But we think a lot of earth-related jutsu have been used in this area and it's damaged the stability, so when a tectonic shift occurs, like just now, the impact is compounded."

Izuna looked at him, tired and frustrated. Regulus looked up at the sky for a moment, then back down.

"The ground's weak," he said, simplifying his language and speaking slowly in a way that would normally piss Izuna off. "You people throwing rocks at each other has made it worse."

"Is this going to be an immediate issue or can this wait another hour?"

Why was it always Izuna? Why couldn't Madara deal with this shit instead? His brother was the one who actually wanted this fucking village.

Tobirama finally stopped standing there looking pretty, and actually bent down to press his finger to the ground. To investigate Izuna's question or just escape the conversation, he didn't care. Whatever bullshit sensoring technique he was doing, Izuna left him to it for the moment, focussing back on Regulus.

"What were you two doing out here in the first place?"

He had said it casually, more an idle complaint of why his two-thirds of his social circle were out in the middle of the wilderness miles away from Konoha - but the way Regulus' expression abruptly smoothed out had Izuna's interest sharpening.

"Just an experiment," Regulus said waving a hand dismissively.

Too dismissively.

Izuna's suspicious mind rumbled to life.

"I wanted to see if I could increase my control over fire," Tobirama unexpectedly interjected, shamelessly taking the blame when the blaze was still being put out.

That was how Izuna knew they were lying.

His rival was, much to Izuna's chagrin, actually proficient in fire release. The wily bastard could use all the elements with minimal effort, though his water release was still his most devastating skill.

Tobirama would never have lost control over a fire, even as a child. He was too good to make such a mistake.

That he was here, admitting to such a misstep - that he was hinting at a deficiency in his abilities at all - was more revealing than if he had just stayed quiet.

[outhaulscheme]

I'm curious what you'd make of prompt 26 :)

26. Creating art inspired by them

In his text messages, Jacob had the unique ability to switch cadences between a chronically online gay man in his twenties and a middle-aged forums user. Gregory checked his phone and saw the phrase sleepypilled nyquilmaxxing — whatever that meant — followed by I should stop using 4chan vernacular due to its association with the alt-right, but it does have a certain je ne sais quois. By the way, I don’t have a fever anymore, so I’ll probably be able to come back to school on Monday.

Jacob had the flu. Gregory knew this because Jacob had called in sick from work that day, and also because Jacob had messaged the teachers’ group chat about calling in sick from work, and also also because, throughout the day and into the evening, Jacob periodically sent Gregory updates about his life (Have you heard of the term “bed rotting”?) and how he was feeling (102 fever hahaa im in hell).

Despite his best efforts, Gregory felt bad for him. Gregory normally hated looking at his phone while eating dinner — he preferred to maintain a clear and undistracted mind while chewing — but he found himself scrolling through his text conversation with Jacob anyway. He wondered if Jacob was drinking enough water, if Jacob was getting enough rest.

At least Jacob didn’t have a fever anymore. See you on Monday, Gregory wrote back. Want me to get you anything?

Jacob responded quickly. melissa already made enough chicken soup to feed a village, janine came by earlier and dropped off a casserole or something? but mel told me not to eat it or i’d get food poisoning :(

So, no food, then — though as Gregory surveyed his dinner of brown rice, broccoli, and boiled chicken, he realized that he probably couldn’t bring Jacob food befitting a flu patient even if he wanted to. What else did people get each other when they were sick? Flowers, maybe? No, you brought people flowers when they were in the hospital, not when they were holed up in a guest suite rented from a coworker.

Yet Gregory hated the idea of showing up at Melissa’s door empty-handed. What would he even say? That he missed Jacob and came to visit for no reason other than to check if he was doing alright? Ridiculous. Gregory sent Jacob a thumbs-up emoji and wrote, Are you allergic to flowers?

no, why?

Just making sure. Another thumbs-up emoji.

Gregory, you dirty dog, Jacob wrote, even though Gregory kept a strict hygiene routine and was decidedly not a dog. If I find flowers at my doorstep tomorrow, I will assume that they were poisoned by a CIA agent sent to kill me for tweeting about state-sponsored anti-communist mass killings in Indonesia. Also, you should definitely read The Jakarta Method by Vincent Bevins when you get the chance.

OK, Gregory replied.

*

The following day, Jacob sent Gregory a photo of himself with a vase of heirloom daffodils, arranged into a bouquet by a careful hand. White, orange, and yellow, petals flaring out like the sun. Jacob looked pale and utterly exhausted, but he was smiling.

Cheerful flowers for a cheerful man.

Jacob’s caption: just received flowers from a cia agent who hates me for raging against the machine!!! are they going to kill me Y/N vote now on ur phones

[theladyofbloodshed]

SJM Romance Week - Day 5 - Favourite Tropes

@sjmromanceweek

Forced Proximity x Injury Recovery meets Sister Act

Two years. Two long years since Nesta had been given sanctuary by the priestesses in Itica after running from her life from Hybern’s beasts.

Even now, days before the anniversary of hammering on the doors with her bloodied hands, she remembered the thundering of her heart as she was herded by monsters. Remembered the soul-wrenching fear that kept her bare feet pounding across the rough stone even as it tore open her skin. She bore the scars from that day. Her feet had been in ruins. Her hands even worse.

On that night, her slumber had come to an abrupt end. A soft voice had whispered that she must open her eyes and when she did, a knife was plunging for her chest. If she’d not stamped on her instincts year after year, her magic would have flared out of her. It had spent too long locked away, so like a beaten animal, it was too afraid to emerge. Nesta had wrapped her hands around the blade, its kiss agonising. She didn’t know how many soldiers had burnt their way through the village, how many lives they’d ended. Nesta had leapt from the window, bones cracking on the impact and ran. Ran and ran and ran.

The Mother had always favoured her, people said. They were comments that she’d laughed at. Everybody wanted to be favoured by the Mother but it was another thing to truly be blessed by her. But that night, Nesta did not know how she could have survived without a soft, maternal hand pushing her along.

In two years, she hadn’t become a believer. Despite the gratitude she felt towards the priestesses and the acolytes for granting her sanctuary, despite whatever kindness the Mother had offered her, Nesta wasn’t moved by religion. She wore their garb - pristine white robes with a hood that covered her hair - and joined them for prayers as was expected of her, but Nesta still couldn’t muster her faith.

It couldn’t go on like this, she knew, hiding forever amongst the priestesses. One day, the world would remember Nesta Archeron, the girl who stole from the Cauldron and come looking for her to tear her heart from her chest and repair what was taken.

***

Another dead end. From the whispers and foreign tongues that they had managed to gather across the centuries, the feet of the Cauldron were hidden in temples.

Azriel and Rhys had sat with Amren for hours, collating information, trying to narrow down the search. Prythian was littered with temples. As was the Continent. And Hybern. They ruled out temples that had been built since the war, which only eliminated a handful. It was Azriel’s task to sweep through as many as they could, starting with ones they had associations with, no matter how weak they were. The words were too precious to put in a letter. Every night, he’d winnow to a new location then return at dawn to cross it off on their map. Each night, their disappointment grew.

‘Where to next?’

Amren drummed her painted fingernails on the table. ‘Hybern. It would make sense if all three feet were on a different piece of land. One for the Continent. One for Prythian. One for Hybern.’

Azriel raised his brows. ‘Are you sentencing me to my death?’

‘Don’t get caught, Spymaster.’

Once darkness fell, Azriel was away. A different tactic was needed for Hybern. He’d hit up as many temples as he could in an area lest word spread that he was spotted flying there night after night.

It was bitterly cold in Itica. Snow had already blanketed the craggy ground before winter had truly arrived. He tread lightly, flying as often as he could despite the pummel of wind. The first temple did not allow him entry because he was male. The second was made up of only males but when Azriel made excuses that he wanted to pray, he was followed. If the feet were here, his shadows would be trailed by the priests. The third and fourth temple were also a bust, but more and more attention was being shown to him although it was late into the night.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end even before he’d winnowed to the fifth temple of the night. If Azriel hadn’t been so committed to finding the feet, he’d have listened to his instincts and not bothered going.

As soon as he landed, the armed guards stood on the brass doors of the temple outside moved.

At the same moment his shadows enveloped him again, an arrow hit him in the wing. He felt the sting of ash sear through his blood. He could only get a short distance away and the guards were coming. Again, he winnowed. Again, another arrow sailed through the black sky, this time piercing his leg. Amongst a volley of arrows, his shadows swooped around him, taking him as far as they could whilst his magic was nullified. Another hit him, sinking deep into the flesh of his shoulder. In the distance, he could just make out another temple carved into stone. His wings and his shadows did all they could to get him there despite the pain racking his body.

***

Poppea’s rough wake up left Nesta shaking. It had brought back too many memories of that night.

‘Come. Quickly.’

Nesta donned her garb, pulling the hood up and over her hair. It was still pitch-black outside so it had to be an emergency. That was not good news. She dreaded running again. She’d spent so much of her life running.

The temple was quiet. A peaceful sort of quiet. The great, metal basin at its centre remained blazing with more candles flickering in their silver candelabras around the prayer room.

At a statue to the Mother which was veiled, Poppea paused.

‘There is a male here.’

‘He cannot be,’ replied Nesta, well-accustomed to their sacred vows even if she had never said them.

‘He is a male I recognise – a good male. Yasmeen has used what little healing power she has to stabilise him, but you are more learned in such matters.’

‘Healing?’

Poppea frowned, the deep etchings of her face worsening from the motion. ‘Males.’

At that, Nesta’s own brows drew together. Poppea had made it clear that Nesta's rude, uncouth behaviour had no business in her temple over the last two years. Often, she'd been sent to bed without supper for snorting during prayer or for cursing when she dropped an item. Now she was flaunting Nesta's history.

The high priestess cleared her throat. ‘Many of these females have never known a life beyond these walls. They have few memories of the fathers that gave them away. Many have vivid memories of the males that hurt them.’ Poppea rested a hand on Nesta’s shoulder. ‘The Mother brought you here for a purpose. Perhaps this is it.’

With support from the other acolytes present during the night, Nesta was ushered into the tunnel running beneath the statue armed with supplies. Yasmeen offered strict instructions on how to take care of the male. As the statue was moved back into place, she followed the glow of lights at the bottom of the sloping stairs to find her way. Nesta knew the route well. She had spent three weeks beneath the ground when she had first arrived because it was the only place that could guarantee protection and privacy.

On one of the beds, a male with massive, leathery wings was asleep although the slumber did not seem peaceful. Sweat beaded his brow despite the relatively cool temperature under the ground. Blood stained his skin. A hole was punctured into his right wing. His clothes had been cut away by Yasmeen and an arrow removed from his shoulder. It would scar through the intricate whorls of obsidian ink on his upper body. Yasmeen seemed to have balked at removing his trousers so had sliced up the length, leaving them flapping open all the way to his thigh where another arrow had likely hit him.  

Nesta knelt down beside him and pushed his sweat-soaked dark hair from his tan skin. The moment she looked at him, she felt like she’d found something that had been lost forever, like he had been missing from her life until that moment.

‘Who are you?’

She ran a thumb over his brow, the skin burning beneath.

Whilst following Yasmeen’s instructions to clean and bind the wounds on his body, the judder of boots above her head had Nesta stilling. She remembered this moment. The absolute soul-gripping fear of discovery. How the gentle priestesses had the courage to look Hybern’s soldiers in the eyes and lie would always amaze her. For now, they hadn’t crossed that line in sieging a temple because their fear of the Mother held them back.

The male jerked away, hand reaching for his sheath which was now empty of its blade. Despite the pain, his eyes fixed on Nesta. Hurriedly, she bared her palms to him then pointed to the ceiling where the rough, low voices of the males seeped through. She pressed a finger to her lips.

He glanced down at the bandages she’d been winding around his thigh then relaxed slightly, recognising that she was not a threat. In a terse silence, Nesta continued Yasmeen’s instruction while they both listened keenly to any shift in the conversation above.

***

This female was enchanting.

Azriel had lost blood. Could still feel the ash coursing through his body. He ought to have been terrified of being found, of bringing death to this temple, but all thoughts emptied at the sight of this beautiful female dabbing the wound on his shoulder, silver eyes focused on his injury. She had an elegant, classic beauty – one that seemed criminal to hide away in a temple.

She grazed her knuckle along the bone of his wing and that motion had him biting down on the flesh of his palm.

‘Painful?’

Azriel shook his head. ‘Sensitive.’

‘I need to clean the wound.’ She added, ‘I’ll be gentle.’

That was almost worse, he thought. Azriel could feel every languid touch, every soft breath as she leaned close to the membrane. Her concentration had her lips pursing slightly, making her all the more enticing to look at.

Once the noise had died down, Azriel tried to stand but the female pressed a hand against his bare chest to keep him on the mattress. She was more forward, more physical than he knew acolytes to be when it came to males.

When she had finished, she carried a basket over to the bed. Inside were robes of differing sizes, all pristine white, and Truth-Teller rested on top. He felt better knowing the blade’s location.

‘How long must I remain here?’

She shrugged. ‘The priestesses risked their lives to keep you safe.’

Azriel bowed his head. ‘I’m grateful.’

‘Good,’ she replied, fighting a smirk from her lips. ‘And to answer your question, I was down here for three weeks when I arrived.’

Three fucking weeks?

Azriel doubted he’d make to morning before he was climbing the walls. Already, he was shaking his uninjured leg as the realisation that he was trapped in here settled in.

‘Are you going to do that all night?’

The female was staring at his jiggling leg, disgust curling her upper lip.

‘Who are you?’

‘Company for the foreseeable future,’ she replied. ‘There’s a small alcove back here with food for emergencies. Take what you need. There’s also a bucket that will be emptied when its safe for somebody up there to move the statue.’ She sucked in a breath. ‘Since you’ve bloodied up that bed, I will sleep in this one.’

Was he supposed to just fall asleep after being shot at by Hybern’s soldiers? Trust that these priestesses wouldn’t betray him or the soldiers wouldn’t come back and slaughter their way through the temple? The ash was still suffocating his magic preventing winnowing, preventing Rhys from reaching out with his mind.

‘What’s your name?’ The female was sizing him up like an apex predator.

‘Azriel.’

She gave a slow nod in response. ‘Poppea recognised you.’

The name wasn’t familiar. Azriel gave a shrug. ‘Where I live, we have a sanctuary for females who have been injured – similar to this temple. I help females find their way there.’

‘A hero,’ she said, not hiding her sarcasm.

Fine. That line had worked numerous times, but not on a priestess it seemed.

‘Your name?’

‘Nesta.’

As soon as she said it, her expression froze. A misspeak. She smiled tightly, the light not meeting her eyes.

‘Well, I was woken to be your nursemaid. I shall return to sleep.’

***

It took some tossing and turning, but Nesta eventually fell asleep. She had been hyperaware of the male definitely not sleeping in the bed opposite. There had been a lot of grunting from pain as he sloped off to the pantry then she’d spied him in the largest white robes they had to offer, with slashes in the back to force his wings through.

It was Azriel who woke her with his pacing like a caged beast. He dragged his injured leg across the floor and his wings rustled as he fought to keep them upright with the injury to his shoulder.

‘You need to rest your leg,’ she snapped.

‘I can’t be in here.’

Nesta sat up in the bed, her hood discarded in favour of comfort. ‘You have no choice. Get in the bed.’

If this male had a tail, it would be lashing. He stood at the foot of the stairs, staring up at the darkened tunnel.

Gritting her teeth to keep from yelling – her prickly nature never quashed by soft prayer – Nesta stormed across the room and dragged him by the hand back into bed. The skin beneath her fingers was odd, deeply set in some places or smooth in others. In the dim light, she could not make it out fully. She released his hand and pointed to the bed. ‘In there.’

‘Have they sent the most ferocious priestess to guard me?’

No, Nesta was on her final warning. She refused to say her vows, refused to commit herself to the Mother until her dying moments because she had to believe there could be more to her life. She’d not kerbed her bad habits; she still cursed, still blasphemed, still drifted elsewhere during services when the others sang. Poppea had made it very clear that staying was a curtsey if she was to remain a guest and it could be easily taken away.

‘Yes, I’ll smother you if you wake me up for a third time tonight,’ she replied shortly, before climbing back into her own bed.

‘It’s difficult for me to be here,’ Azriel said.

Nesta gave a short laugh. ‘Do you think any of us would choose to be here?’

Few of these females had dreamed of being the unwanted daughter given to the Mother because they served no other purpose or saying holy vows that committed them to the temple for eternity because they had nowhere else to go.

‘It’s different.’ Azriel eased himself back into bed with a groan. ‘I spent my childhood locked in a dungeon. I never planned to be locked up again.’

‘Nobody does,’ replied Nesta as she pulled the blankets up and over her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry that happened to you, but the females in this temple have risked their lives to keep you here. As soon as the soldiers aren’t watching the doors – and when your magic allows – nobody will stop you from leaving.’

In the morning, he was in a deep sleep. Nesta could hear his low snore as she opened her eyes. When she moved from her bed, he did not stir. She idled her time reading the book of prayers kept in the bunker for lost souls, not believing much of it. Faith was a strange concept to her. She’d grown up amongst mortals, her mother one, and they didn’t set much store in higher powers, not when the fae ruled their lives. Her sire – whoever he was – had to be fae for Nesta’s powers to be so great. They’d flared out of her one day when the soldiers came to the village to capture more slaves to be chattel for their army. Nesta couldn’t take the screams. Her magic had erupted in cold, silver flames that devoured. Since that day, Nesta spent her whole life running, never staying in a place more than a moon.

She perched on the edge of the bed near the male who was blanketed by shadows. They parted for her to press a hand to his forehead. The skin beneath burnt fiery. An infection had settled into his body during the night and she had slept through everything.

When the statue was removed for fresh water and food, she called for Yasmeen.

‘She is afraid to be here,’ replied Athilea. ‘You know what happened to her.’

‘This male is unconscious.’

Yasmeen would not go below again, but provided more tinctures and fresh muslin cloth to rebind his wounds.

‘The soldiers?’

Athilea nodded. ‘Still there. Still waiting.’

The male’s sleep was uninterrupted by the exchange. When Nesta returned to Azriel, shadows coiled around her wrist as she worked. It was wasteful to cut away his robes but she didn’t know how else to reach his shoulder. At Azriel’s nudity, she averted her eyes upwards and adjusted the thick, woollen blanket across his lower body. Nesta had seen males before. It was one of the hardest parts to give up when she entered the temple.

The wound on his shoulder was angry and swollen, the skin red around the entry. As she cleaned it, he stirred slightly with an incomprehensible murmur then a hand landed on her thigh.

Nesta spoke to him softly, explaining what she was doing in case a part of him could hear. His shadows were happy to curl onto her shoulders like little birds observing too.

For longer than she should, Nesta remained wedged onto a sliver of the mattress with him, a hand stroking against his black hair as she sang the few hymns she’d learned during her time in the temple. He was handsome, she decided. Too handsome. The sort of face she’d have made hers in a dingy tavern. The kind of face she’d want to wrap her thighs around.

Azriel blinked himself into consciousness, eyes adjusting to the dim light Nesta’s bobbing faelight offered. Could he have sensed those thoughts she’d just had? Surely not.

‘You were unwell,’ she stammered to explain why she cradled his head and had been caressing his soft hair for the last hour.

Azriel pushed an elbow against the bed to lift himself, teeth clenching together from the pain. ‘Were you singing?’

His shadows snapped between them, hiding her blushes. He waved a hand through the blockade, scattering them. ‘They don’t usually do that.’

‘I don’t usually sing,’ she countered.

‘Must be the effect I have on you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I mean, I’m a shadowsinger.’

‘I gathered,’ she replied, pressing her lips together. It was fairly obvious from the blanket of shadows that stayed with him, but she’d let him keep his mystique. ‘You have an infection. It will require regular cleaning.’

‘Am I naked?’

Her blush deepened, turning the apples of her cheek crimson. Nesta tried and failed to speak, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. No man had ever found issue with her undressing him before.

A brow rose. ‘A nude male doesn’t affect the gentle disposition of a priestess?’

It had been a long, long time since Nesta had seen a naked male but not a single one had looked like this male with his face carved by the Mother’s hands or his powerful body. And those wings. It had been such an effort to keep her hands from those but she’d seen the effects they’d had on him yesterday when she cleaned the blood away.

She flicked his cheek, sending him back down onto the mattress. ‘I’m not a priestess. I haven’t said any vows. I was like you once with no place to go but the Mother’s arms. Your nudity is no cause for alarm.’

***

This female had to have been sent by the Mother herself. She was gentle with his wounds, diligent and compassionate, but she had a sharp tongue which was at odds with that gorgeous face. The notion that she had not yet committed herself to a lifetime of servitude to religion sparked something in his chest that he was trying to extinguish. Nesta did not need him panting after her. But gazing at her provided an alternative to spiralling in worry about being beneath the ground with no escape route.

As the days wore on, they became more companionable with each other. Still, his wounds needed tending to thanks to the ash making them heal as if he was mortal. Nesta was devoted in this. She cared for him as though it was her calling in life. Day and night his wounds were left to air in between bandage changes and she’d clean each one before. It could have been his imagination but Azriel was sure her fingers lingered longer than they needed to on his thigh. Once, she even ran a tender finger against the whorl of his tattoo. It had been damaged from the arrow but it could be re-inked in Illyria. Nesta enquired about their origins then listened intently as he spoke of Illyria.

'You came from there, but they aren't your people?'

Azriel swallowed, the knot in his throat pulling tighter. He wanted to tell her everything - about his beginning, his father, his mother, learning to fly - but Nesta was a stranger. A stranger who felt as familiar to him as his reflection.

'No. I have family but we aren't bonded by blood.'

There was no news from Rhysand. He had to hope it was due to the nullifying effects of the ash. Either that or they thought him dead or in enemy’s clutches so had gone silent.

There were still soldiers making the rounds but not as frequent so as soon as his magic returned, Azriel could leave. They'd strike when a blind eye was turned to the temple so he could pass the threshold and winnow. Ancient magic was imbued into the building's foundations preventing winnowing inside the walls.

He almost didn’t want to leave. What would his evenings be without Nesta dragging her bed close to his and playing cards or word games to pass the time? She had no fear around him – almost seemed to relish his company despite spending her life in this temple. The females that he’d ushered into the library were reluctant to be around him, their fear of males deeply rooted. This one had moved her bed alongside his for their games then ended up sleeping just inches from him ever since. Each night, Azriel wanted to close the gap and reach out for her slender hand. Sometimes Nesta's reached out to the end of the bed, daring him to hold it.

‘I think you’re cheating,’ she murmured, peering at her hand of cards. Nesta was cross-legged on the bed, hood pulled down. They wore the same virginal white robes but they suited her. Cassian would laugh himself hoarse if he could see Azriel in his.

Azriel let out a low chuckle. ‘It’s my shadows. I didn’t ask them to spy.’

Nesta dropped her cards on his lap. ‘Dirty cheaters.’

‘You dealt a dodgy hand yesterday, bending the aces. I saw you.’

She shrugged both shoulders. ‘No idea what you’re talking about. False accusations.’ She pressed her hands together in prayer. 'I am a devotee of the Mother.'

‘How does a soon-to-be-priestess know so many card games – and how to cheat?’

‘I told you,’ she replied, ‘I’m not a priestess. I had a life before but I was given shelter here two years ago and never left. I've visited enough taverns to know how to play and how to cheat.’ Nesta held out a hand for a shadow to sit upon. ‘I spent my whole life running. I could catch my breath here, but it’s not my forever. I just don’t know where to go next.’

‘What are you running from?’

‘The King of Hybern.’ Nesta swept her hair away from the top of her ears. They were curved like his, but he’d have sworn she was high fae. ‘My mother was mortal. I was raised by mortals. But I wasn’t like them.’ With her free hand, she let silver flames crawl across it. Azriel flinched, expecting heat, but could only feel a seeping coldness. ‘I escaped his dungeon and have been running ever since.’

The flames died out, sputtering with sparks as Nesta banked her power. He couldn’t imagine looking over a shoulder all the time, never settling, never building bonds. Azriel didn't want to think about what she'd endured at the King's hands. Hell, how had she even escaped?

This was a female who’d had her choices taken from her. She’d chosen safety over desire but that need to be immersed in life still blazed within.

Azriel didn’t know if it was the right thing, but he said, ‘I know a place you could go. A library. It’s safe and secret.’

‘I’d have to be there forever?’

No. He imagined her dancing with him at Starfall on the roof beneath a sky of stars falling for only them. Cheating at cards alongside him to drive Cassian wild. Shopping with Mor as they explored the boutiques of Velaris and showing him what she’d bought. Curling her head against his chest at Solstice when they were full of food and joy. Mostly, Azriel imagined her beside him like they were here, beneath the ground.

‘You can be in my city. It would be safe. Hybern would never find you.’

From her expression, Azriel knew she doubted him. He clutched her hand, the shadow scarpering. ‘I promise you this: I would keep you safe.’

‘You arrived here with three arrows sticking out of you,’ she reminded him.

‘Trust me.’

‘I don’t know you,’ she said, voice dropping to a whisper.

Azriel pressed her hand to his heart to feel the steady beating of it beneath. ‘You have the rest of your life to know me.’

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 30: Two Heads Are Better Than One

Esredes' heart dropped when he approached the remains of the village. The blizzard and hail combination last night had left more damage than he anticipated- roofs were caved in or full of holes, the very foundations were blown to the side or partially collapsed, and while it looked like no one had died, they were all huddled around fires shivering. Everything looked absolutely and utterly miserable.

"We're going to have to put aside the week to repair this," Esredes said to the little group he'd brought along. He'd thought it would be enough just to have a trusted circle of Mythirel, Marcelloix, Heilyn, Vette, Fiachna- whose sister Niamh had also decided to come, to which Esredes only reclutantly allowed- and Marchand was there too, he supposed. The man had technically joined them, and he might make himself useful on this task. But even despite these two uneasy allowances, as Esredes surveyed the extent of the damage done to the village their movement was taking shelter in, it was not near enough to make quick progress. Oh, they would all be suffering the entire week.

"Maybe I can convince a couple more people to come out here," Esredes said with a sigh as he tapped his linkpearl. Elouan was not a member of the movement proper, but he trusted him with this affair at the least. He explained the situation over the pearl to him and luckily, just as Esredes anticipated, he agreed to come right over and help.

"Let's get to work in the meantime," Esredes said. "I'll call over as many of the movement as available as the week goes on. With luck, we'll have this all functional by the end of the week." For now, he sent Fiachna off on that messenger task and got to work with the rest of the crew. Marchand made himself useful hauling the supplies and materials they did manage to bring along as well as those too injured to move around properly, while Heilyn got to work repairing the damage, even though it quickly became apparent it wouldn't be enough. Vette kept the campfires roaring and otherwise provided heat to the villagers who weren't lucky enough to be blooded with fire, melting away ice and snow that was in the way of them making any progress. Esredes tag-teamed with Marcelloix to haul and assist with the basic repairing he could do, transforming frequently to help hold things into place for others to nail down or get people and materials onto the roof.

The little group worked away for a couple hours, and had barely made a dent in the work. A couple little houses looked in better shape now, but far from finished, the debris from the storm to clear out seemed endless, and they didn't have nearly enough materials to keep at this forever. That's when Esredes heard his name with a familiar cheerful voice, and when he turned around his heart rose and dropped in equal measure. Elouan had showed up, as promised, along with Fiachna making his return. But with him he'd brought an entire crowd of others. Andromeda, Mercer, Aloysia, Ryousei, Majalis, Leigh, Alvere, Fuyu, Kainen, Azarah, Alastor, and for some reason even Ross who Esredes barely remembered the name of were all there too- along with an apparent delivery of more supplies, with a note from Adel saying they were from an anonymous wealthy source. And to all of it, Esredes blinked several times in a row. This village was confidential. It was private. The last thing these people needed was for their peace and solitude away from Ishgard to be disturbed by outsiders who could come back and mean them harm- No, no. Esredes, for once, quieted the thought as it came. These were not loyalists or outsiders, these were his trusted friends and associates that had come to help. A smile came to his face, and with it, the work continued.

Andromeda was familiar with handling housing in the cold- Shiva bless her country Garlean origins- and immediately helped lead and assist the rest in where to repair and bolster the damage done to the buildings, as well as having come with more materials of her own, and putting that magitek of hers to heal the injured with Fuyu. Mercer was good with lifting the heavier things and hammering, but he also got to work fixing broken metal. Meanwhile, Ryousei was on watch duty, surveying ahead to be sure the area was clear of any actually unwanted visitors who could try and bring the entire place down. You never knew even in this post-war world. Majalis and Leigh were focused on distributing supplies to ensure everyone remained warm and fed, Leigh coming with jarred foods and spare blankets, and once that was done Majalis moved on to assist Fiachna and Niamh with repairs. Kainen used his Dragoon jumping to more easily move materials around. Azarah and Vette both assisted Aloysia and Rossignol with getting a pot of soup going for everyone, a combination Esredes couldn't voice his protest to until it was too late. Aloysia insisted the vague, mushy concoction they had made tasted good, but Esredes wasn't about to trust it for a moment. Fortunately, Vette, Alvere, and Leigh came to the rescue, adding in the right ingredients to make it palatable.

By the time everyone settled down with the soup, the progress had made leaps and bounds compared to where it was at before backup arrived. And with the promise of more people coming tomorrow thanks to Fiachna's messaging, it looked like they might have this village fully functional again by the end of the week indeed. People settled in, villager and helper talking to one another around bowls of soup, exchanging ideas and learning about each other, and with the multiple sources of fire the cold Coerthan night felt warmer than it would have all alone. Esredes closed his eyes. All of this reminded him of when they had worked on the Firmament together- but that had been everyone, and for the whole good of Ishgard. This? Coming out to help him and his so far away from the center of Coerthas? He couldn't help but smile, and something in his active mind slowed down. Perhaps he needed too many reminders that the people around him were to be loved and trusted, but moments like this kept his hope alive for the future. He didn't dare think that someday soon everything would end, and this could be the future he lived in. Yet ever since the end of the world came and went, he'd also felt like something had really changed, and this sight was yet more proof of it. The future, as always, remained cloudy, murky, and uncertain- but as the group settled in for the night to get back to work tomorrow, everything felt at ease in the world.

[belit0]

Indra with prompt 7 where reader and him have just gotten married?? Btw, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK AND YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD!! ALSO, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING FOR INDRA HE’S MY FAV ❤️❤️❤️

7) Them exploring each others' bodies, but not in a sexual way.

AAAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LIKING MY STUFF!! I FEEL YOU SO BAD WITH THE INDRA SITUATION

He is also my favorite, and it destroys me how he has so little recognition and content to his name. People need to appreciate the hell out of this man HE'S THE CREATOR OF ALL THE CHARACTERS WE LOVE OMG

(Y/N) never heard him speak, at least not directly to her. From the moment Indra chose her as his future wife, she has only heard his voice from afar, addressing her parents or people in her village. He never paused to even greet her, introduce himself, or explain.

Indra came to her small village looking to hire manpower for construction in his territory, having heard rumors (Y/N)'s family was the best in the area when it came to edification. The Otsutsuki had recently become famous after destroying his brother and winning an ancestral war, crowning himself as a man to be feared and respected.

No one wanted to be in the spotlight of his attention, and people preferred to give him whatever he wanted to avoid perishing in the attempt. The man arrived at their home with blueprints to execute his new settlement, having changed his last name so as not to be associated with his father's or younger brother's image.

It didn't take long before he crossed paths with (Y/N) by pure chance, while he was finalizing details with her father on how they would carry out the constructions and with what materials. They were sitting at the main table one night, as she entered her house to go to bed. The girl observed how her father was tense and alert in front of the presence of such a person, and when they exchanged glances, tried to warn her wordlessly to hide.

The Otsutsuki fixed his eyes on her, and that was the moment he decided to take her as his wife. For the remaining days, he continued to make arrangements with her family, and no one could stop him from taking her with him when everything was planned. Saying no to Indra was inevitable doom, and (Y/N) understood she had to obey his orders if she wanted to protect her people.

He took her along with a convoy of villagers from her hometown, who went to the new and recently founded Uchiha territory to lend a hand. The work lasted months, of complicated execution and with no room for mistakes under the frightening gaze of the most villainous man in the world, but it was accomplished.

When everything was finished, her family had to leave, and (Y/N) could not join them.

There was no formal wedding, with the Otsutsuki reluctant to follow such protocols, and simply proclaimed her as his wife in front of the entire Uchiha clan. People knew not to mess with her and respected her as Indra's legitimate wife, but that was all.

Life continued to go on as usual, and the woman had to adapt to her new destiny. Her so-called husband dedicated himself to ignoring her, pretending her existence was unimportant and attending to a million other matters before even looking at her.

(Y/N) did not let his attitude discourage her, and she thrived despite his indifference. She found friends and supporters, and learned about Indra from them. At the moment, the Uchiha clan consisted of all those who supported him on the battlefield and chose him as their leader. Everyone spoke with respect and admiration about the Otsutsuki, and the girl came to know his life story from the accounts of others.

Indra was a tormented and haunted man, someone hurting, and perhaps he just needed space before he could approach her in a concrete way.

She waited, and found a way of life that made her happy in spite of everything. Her husband never limited her or gave her any orders, letting her be free and able to build her day-to-day life as she wished. If she wanted to devote herself to learning ninjutsu, she could. If she preferred to dedicate her time to more mundane tasks or do nothing at all, that was fine too.

It took a couple of months of cohabitation before the man finally got a good look at her, and it happened on a night of a full moon and pouring rain. Usually, the Otsutsuki disappears with the fall of the sun, and (Y/N) presumes it's for training, but with the weather as such, there's no way. The ground turned to mud and there is no visibility because of the rain, the water bringing icy winds in tandem.

Taking no qualms about his presence, the girl continued with her evening routine as if the man was not there, playing the same game of indifference. She finished with all the actions required to get into bed, coolness not helping to keep her away from the sheets.

What she didn't expect was to feel the mattress sink a few seconds after she laid down, Indra settling down next to her for the first time in months. Not speaking to her also came with not sharing a bed, and (Y/N) always wondered where the Otsutsuki slept.

Her heart races and she suddenly becomes nervous, never having had to face this situation in all the time they've been together. She fixes her gaze on him, determined not to be intimidated by the man with whom she is supposed to share her life, and for the first time, she gets a closer look.

He is devilishly handsome, with defined and dreamy features, a sharp jaw, and elongated fox-like eyes. He wears his hair tied in a bun, with a few pieces raining raggedly down his face. Indra is a dream, and (Y/N) gets even more nervous.

"You're agitated...would you rather I spend the night somewhere else...?" According to people's accounts, Indra seems to spit fire when he speaks, but the way he phrased the question carries a hint of teasing and sarcasm.

"No... I do believe it's about time." She decides not to flinch in front of him, and face him with the same level of intonation. They both glare at each other, a duel of stares (Y/N) is not willing to lose.

The girl analyzes the man, sitting on the bed against the headboard and imitating his posture. Indra is not wearing a T-shirt, only some baggy pants. There is a huge scar on his chest, dangerously close to his heart, and looking fresh. Fearlessly, (Y/N) runs her fingertips over it.

It has a terribly smooth texture and decorates his body as if it was meant to fit in that particular spot. "Where did this come from?" she asks without looking him in the eye, sight fixed where her fingers still touch his skin.

"Family squabbles, if you might call it somehow." She can hear a smirk in his words, as the Otsutsuki puts his hand against her cheek, touching a mark (Y/N) has carried since being little girl.

"What about this?"

"Learning to chop wood with my father, if you might call it somehow." She dares to connect with his eyes again and sees him smiling genuinely. The stories and narrative construction people provided about Indra portrayed him as a cold and heartless being, a tyrant with so many murders on top of him as to be uncountable, an evil and sinister man.

Perhaps they were all wrong, and no one really knew him.

Feeling reaffirmed by him, she takes his arm and looks at the skin closely. Another huge scar looking much older decorates the surface. "First time I made use of one of my techniques to defend... someone." There is a hint of nostalgia in his words, and (Y/N) assumes he is referring to a too-distant past.

A huge hand closes over the curve of her waist and draws her close until they are mouth-to-mouth. Surprised by his boldness, she allows herself to indulge in the sweet, first kiss she shares with her husband, feeling his fingers roam her figure over her clothes.

"I wondered what it would feel like to touch you once and for all."

[river-of-wine]

I read your post about the Resident Evil 8 villains and I agree with you about everything, especially about Donna. Her characterization in fanon is particularly frustrating to me. Honestly, I hate to say it, but I think it's because of a particular kind of ableism. It's like people saw the dolls and read the files about her mental illness and immediately went "oh she's just a poor baby who doesn't know what she's doing!!!" And completely woobified her. Which does not at all reflect her canon characterization. Like, mentally ill people can be tragic and complicated and still do really fucked up stuff. I think another element that often gets ignored when it comes to Donna and Lady Dimitrescu in particular is their wealth and status. Dimitrescu clearly comes from a long aristocratic bloodline, as she literally lives in a castle and makes repeated references to "the bloodline of House Dimitrescu." She had a position of power and influence even before she became one of Miranda's lords. She very likely already viewed the villagers and her servants as beneath her, and from there it was a very small step to treating them as livestock. While Donna isn't aristocratic, she still lives in a mansion and clearly comes from a family of some wealth and position, especially since she had servants too. She is a twisted take on the wealthy orphan trope. We know she's alone and her whole family is dead by the time she's infected, the gardener's files say as much. But she views other people as dolls, playthings for her to use and throw away once broken. The mannequin of Mia, the dolls hanging from the trees that were actually bodies, etc. She is detached and sees herself as above others in a way that is very different from Lady Dimitrescu, but present all the same. Wealth, power, and privilege also shape those two characters and create important context for who they are and what they do. (I could go on about how Moreau and Heisenberg represent different forms of toxic male behavior, but this ask is already really long.)

I have to also agree with you about Donna. Her and Heisenberg’s characterisations frustrate me the most because from what I’ve seen, their personalities and motivations get the most warped by the fanbase. The fact that Donna in particular is made out to be an innocent little baby who just didn’t understand what she was doing despite her being a grown woman who has done this before and is intentionally showing Ethan hallucinations that target his specific fears about protecting his family. Given the fact that Donna is the only lord who is to have specified some kind of mental illness in her file in another Miranda’s lab as well as, like you mentioned, her thing being dolls and those being considered a childish interest, it does feel particularly ableist for people to reduce her to that. The dolls honestly to me feel more like that frightening spin on childhood and fatherhood than anything, especially because Ethan has a daughter. Dolls are typically associated with young girls, and the fact that the dolls and Rose herself, or at least the hallucination, is what is attacking Ethan seems very thematically relevant.

Very good point about Alcina and Donna’s wealth and status! I hadn’t actually considered that about Donna, but I think a huge thing with Alcina is exploitation. Vampirism has often been used as a metaphor for exploitation of some kind, and her obviously wealthy status even before Mother Miranda only furthers this. She also seems to be quite high up in the hierarchy within the cult itself. The lords all have power over the villagers, but Mother Miranda seems to value Heisenberg and Alcina more than Donna and Moreau. The obvious thing is the maidens. She’s using her - presumably unpaid - workforce as a source of food, and she brutally takes what she wants from them and leaves their corpses to shamble around aimlessly. I think a lot of people forget how horrifying this concept even is because of how many people ship maiden ocs with Alcina.

There is also the matter of her daughters. I left this out of the original post because it’s more up to interpretation than the rest, but Alcina has never struck me as the caring mother a lot of people make her out to be. She does not, while her daughters are alive, show any motherly affection to them, and aside from her “how dare you talk about saving your daughter, when you’ve murdered mine?” voice line that she says during her boss battle, she never seems that upset? She has those remarks about the daughters after they die, but she seems very detached and unaffected. Even after finding out Bela is dead, she makes a phone call to Mother Miranda where she is remarkably composed for somebody who just learned of her daughters murder. She does nothing to protect Cassandra and Daniela, even sending Cassandra after Ethan purposefully, and her reaction to Cassandra’s death as well as her placing the same amount of anger in attacking Ethan for killing Bela as she does in breaking into her castle and trying to steal from her. Her daughters are not really children to her, at least how I interpret things. She’s using them to do her dirty work, going after Ethan despite the danger even going outside would present. The girls are swarms of flies, but she is lacking that connection she outlined in the files about the experiment that made them. She’s again using others for her own gain.

Obviously Alcina herself is also being exploited, but I think that adds an interesting angle. While a victim of Mother Miranda, she is taking advantage of her own swarm of victims.

Excellent point about Donna - it didn’t even properly occur to me that she had staff, and VERY TRUE ABOUT HEISENBERG! Moreau I’d have to think more about, but I’ve always noticed that about Heisenberg and people always seem to ignore it. His language towards Alcina and Mother Miranda is quite intentionally misogynistic. He’s a bit too fond of the word bitch. That and the fact that he’s dressed like a cowboy, such a classically masculine trope.

[ladyrijus]

Oh how DARE (/lh dw) you give me feelings ab the Yiga clan, I already love them enough, I would absolutely love to hear if you have more thoughts ab them and ever want to say!!

*kicks door open with an armful of Yiga Clan thoughts* I GOT YOU.

The Yiga Clan are descendants of Sheikah rune-crafters, who knew how to inscribe runes associated with a certain type of reality manipulation onto different surfaces. The guidance stones you see? Those are their works left remaining. When water collects at the tip of the guidance stone, it collects the effects of the runes before transferring them to the Sheikah Slate. However, the Yiga Clan have learned how to inscribe runes on their paper slips, which activates when the finger runs over the symbol of the inverted Eye. These cards help them with their traveler's guise and teleportation. Additionally, their windcleavers are inscribed with runes associated with wind manipulation, but the effects are dampened due to the rune's deterioration when used in battle repeatedly.

A Yiga's guise cannot work near a statue of Hylia. She unmasks all illusions. This is why not many of them can get into Kakariko Village; they're outed almost instantaneously. When Dorian left the Gerudo Highlands and met his wife, he knew his life was going to change, for better or for worse. He definitely thought worse when he was getting married though, since he was scared his illusion would drop before Hylia. However, the goddess, sensing his change of heart, actually made the illusion permanent. This makes him the first of his kind to be divinely redeemed. When he helps the Yiga again after his wife is killed, the roots of his air are darkened to black as a rebuke from the goddess, but they do not seep any further as she accounts for the fact he only sabotages the tribe for the life of his two children, as well as Impa and Paya. He covers the dark parts of his hair with his amigasa hat.

This next headcanon veers towards OC territory but it's to explain the lore behind Urbosa's hatred for the Yiga. To put it shortly, there was a Yiga woman who had once, while guised, seduced Urbosa's mother. She was deployed in Gerudo Town to acquire the Thunder Helm, with the idea that there were runes inscribed on the helm for electric resistance that could be used to leverage their efforts against the Hylian kingdom. Urbosa, a child at the time, had caught her in the act after a few months of courtship. She was very perceptive for her age, and immediately asked what the Yiga thought she was doing. The Yiga, despite her conflicting emotions, immediately resolved to kill her to avoid having any witnesses. But what she didn't realize was that Urbosa's mother had already seen everything. Swooping in, she shielded Urbosa, deflected the attack, and promptly electrocuted the Yiga. Whether the Yiga lives after the electrocution or not is up to you. I think it's another tragic love story either way! This experience leaves both Gerudo women feeling very, very conflicted and betrayed. For that reason, she calls the Yiga traitors.

Pikango is a Yiga informant. His paper slips are hidden behind the sheet on his canvas, and he uses them to teleport between stables periodically to gather intel about the Sheikah. He frequents the Dueling Peaks Stable out of all of them. What's interesting is that he's the first Yiga member to have been born in Kakariko and return despite the discoloration of his hair. This is why everyone is wary about telling Pikango about the location of the fairy fountain when he returned: most Sheikah who leave Kakariko for good turn out to be Yiga, and certainly none had ever come back before. Purah and Robbie are exceptions for obvious reasons. Pikango's hair is however, mostly white. Why? As I've mentioned before, it takes a while for a Sheikah's hair to turn black since it's based on their faith. I like to think that Pikango is carefully neutral about his opinions regarding Hylia. He helps the Yiga not necessarily as a "fuck you for not letting me have doubts about you" to Hylia, but because they helped him out when he was forced to leave his home. They have definitely tried to recruit him as a footsoldier but he probably admitted that he was not of the fighting type. So they got a different use out of him: spywork. With that deal, Pikango gets to live most of his life just travelling, while keeping an ear open for anything regarding Hyrule Castle, the nearby shrines, or the traveler clad in Hyrulean Blue.