#that she might be referring to like. making women knights and whatever in a very patriarchal world without examining what that really

[lesbovalentine]

im thinking about tehanu again

[stheresya]

"Knights were captured and ransomed all the time, and sometimes women were too. But what if Robb won't pay their price? She wasn't a famous knight, and kings were supposed to put the realm before their sisters. And her lady mother, what would she say? Would she still want her back, after all the things she'd done? Arya chewed her lip and wondered." (Arya IV, ASOS) "Jon will want me, even if no one else does." (Arya XII, ASOS)

both jon and arya grew up in an environment that placed a lot of value on honor. when arya faces the prospect of reuniting with her family, naturally, she's immediately worried that they'll reject her after all the bad things she's done to survive. but that worry does not extend to jon. what's so interesting about this is that jon is no rebel, he's as much ned's son as the other starklings, arya knows his views on honor are probably as strict as ned's. but she's is not worried that he'll reject her or even reproach her because she has the certainty that he simply loves her too much for her "dishonorable" actions to make any difference to him.

He tried to imagine the look on Robb's face when he revealed himself. His brother would shake his head and smile, and he'd say … he'd say … He could not see the smile. Hard as he tried, he could not see it. He found himself thinking of the deserter his father had beheaded the day they'd found the direwolves. "You said the words," Lord Eddard had told him. "You took a vow, before your brothers, before the old gods and the new." (Jon IX, AGOT)

jon, likewise, cannot see robb accepting him as an oathbreaker. in agot when jon flees the wall to join robb in the war against the lannisters he himself comes to the realization that he doesn't belong there. his brother would not respect him if broke his vows. but in adwd he does not hesitate to break his vows for arya when he learns she might be in danger, not once does he ever consider how she, ned stark's daughter like himself, will feel about him being an oathbreaker. because he knows that she'll accept him in whatever way he is. jon and arya both love their family very much, but what they have with each other goes deeper, a mutual devotion that tramples each of their own principles. their status as outcasts in their society is probably what made them so close to each other, it's a companionship that's built in mutual understanding of one another. it's no wonder jon refers to himself as arya's 'home' and refers to her as his 'heart'. because that's the truth of it. sometimes they may have felt othered in their own home, but they never felt othered around each other.

[avesomnia-inhoramortis]

[ooc] would you mind especially if i utilized a bit of the ideas around your trina-as-white-king rumination for the express purpose of miquellatrina exploration fic?

Go for it and feel free to tag me when it's done!!!

Admittedly a lot of my attempts to cram Miquella into the alchemical marriage are a little hamfisted, but figuring out what Trina is in relation to Miquella and Malenia is interesting. Because Marika is the White Queen, and Radagon is the relevant Red King. They have kids. The curse of their... how do I phrase this, selfcestuous union? Anyway, they end up with twin children: a White King and a Red Queen. Venus as a boy and Mars as a woman.

So whatever Trina is in relation to Miquella, she is not the same thing as Radagon. She is not a Red Queen. I like experimenting with writing her as such, but she's not- most of the textual references to her involve people chasing her down.

Saint Trina might have some hope or guidance to share, but most of her "activity" I extrapolated from where her lilies are located. The one thing we could solidly say she Does, soothe the merchants, comes from a cut questline. By contrast, it is much easier to read her as a passive figure- she's a princess in a tower, like Marika, Rennala, and Ranni. All of them are absolutely strong queens who take no shit and no prisoners, but you must admit they are characterized by a certain lack of agency that requires a knight-errant. A Lord, a Mars, someone who will kill for them.

But then if we're talking genders and alchemy- what would it even mean to be a White King? I'd need to do more studying to take a proper crack at answering that. I think there's something to be said for Miquella's strange combination of abundance and infertility- he keeps trying to give birth to things, in one way or another, that either never come to fruition or die stillborn. The Haligtree is dead, its womb ripped open, Elphael is covered in cocoons still occupied by the bodies of his followers, arrested in whatever they were becoming. Conversely, even if it's not conventional, Malenia almost can't stop giving birth- she transforms her knights, she explodes into multiple buds, there are numerous pests in Caelid who feel abandoned because she's supposed to be their mother. Miquella wants to be a god and has no children, Malenia does not want to be a god and has unwanted children. There might be something to that, particularly if a god is meant to be feminine. Miquella is, after all, the odd one out in a group of primarily women.

But he rejects that femininity to become a god, and that's interesting. The way it was framed in the trailer, Trina had something to do with his fate. Possibly his fate as an Empyrean, which is supposed to be the living vessel of an outer god like the Elden Beast or the Moon or Rot. What's his god? What was he meant to contain? We might never know, and he's as close as we're going to get to a high fantasy atheist I think. I think, if anything, Miquella is Trina's Radagon, if that makes sense? Miquella doesn't want to be a princess in a tower and just decree his will- he wants to make changes and do things and act, which is the province of a lord.

It's extremely queer of him and I love that.

Trina might be their passivity, their dependence, their childish neediness- she's content with stagnation and oblivion in a way Miquella isn't, I think, considering most of her imagery is mist and swamps and Miquella has his butterflies.

So I decided maybe that's it. She's a flower and he's a butterfly. Both limited, both needing eachother, one still very much passive and the other determined to be active. It's very easy to read this whole Empyrean business as the idea that Miquella should have been a woman and is determined to Not Be. He's just. So queer. Him, Trina, and Malenia are SO queer. The alchemy hyperfixation just gives me the words to explain it.

I did not intend to write this much in response, soooo. If you want more rambling you can always feel free to poke me, I love theorizing So Much.

[ayuki-ikuya]

I come bringing ideas and headcanons.

OK, so we all already know what The Three oldest archons abilities. So I’ve come up with my own ideas we could use for the younger archons! (And yes I’m grouping Ei, Venti and Zhongli as the older siblings since Ei Is 1000 years old Venti is 2,500 and Zhongli is 5,000-6,000 and the other archons are still in the hundreds I think)

Again these aren’t canon just stuff you can use for future Requests for Twisted wonderland x Teyvat God! Reader

For Dendro archon!Reader

Definitely a Bow User. And Is a Healer. But the their Ult can cause damage

I have a theory That during the Archon War The dendro Archin created the Regisvines to fight for them, and only two were left. I also Headcanon The dendro archon can bring plants to life and overwrite what each plant can do. (Maybe even bring mushrooms to life 👀).

Maybe They can create a giant plant from the ground that spreads Healing energies and since this is a god where talking about can Cure Curses (Ahem Vils Curses Ahem) and major Diseases and what not.

For Their Ult maybe a giant plant monster (kinda like how Gouba and Oz exists ) that will attack for them (could make for fun combos with different elements like if the dendro archon was wet Hydro Plant monster)

For Hydro archon!reader

Polearm or sword (theirs way too many Hydro Catalyst) Healer and Dps, Why? Cause I say so.

You’ve mentioned how Hydro archon summons a giant wave? I’ll do you one better and their E skill summons a giant sea creature of your choosing to soak the fighters (A cool visual is their polearm turning into a big dream catcher then going swoosh and Baam Maybe like A giant Water Koi fish finna drown your ass *ahem ace ahem*)

Now mihoyo likes to reference Their character form honkai impact into genshin impact (and since they took a characters look from Honkai and another characters abilities with the whole Dual ego thing for Raiden shogun and Ei) I’m gonna base this Ultimate Skill From a character from Honkai (for research search up Herrsercher of Sentience)

Since the Hydro archons whole thing is about Justice. Now here me out here. WATER WHIP. Just a giant whip of water that can go on for miles (maybe it’s salty maybe it’s like fresh water depends on our readers mood lolol). Like, It’s whip of water strong enough to cut diamond or whatever it would be very cool (Kalim would wanna see if he could do something like that with his UM Que jamil trying to stop him)

Maybe their hair turns into water too.

Pyro archon! Reader

Claymore. A Big strong war god needs a big strong weapon. Dps and Defense.

Now It’s not just one claymore, It’s DUAL-CLAYMORE, why? Cause it’s a war god that’s why!

I like to think the shield is like Xinyans and XiangLings combined and it’s constantly sending off tiny Fire Discs. Or just symbols shooting fire like what the Pyro Abyss mages can do

For Ultimate I like to think it’s like Childes Daggers but Bigger and on fire just a huge sword made of fire.

The pyro archon doesn’t think just BURNS. and STABE

Cryo archon! Reader

I can’t really come up with much for Cryo archon. But maybe a Catalyst that can summon a giant blizzard that drops down giant ice swords (kinda like Ganyus)

Definitely a sub DPS.

Maybe a healer too since The Tsaritsa is The archon of love?

What do you think about these abilities? Since you mentioned that the students and staff would assume their just strong mages I tried to be very creative with these abilities.

Also how I think the lore could go is maybe somewhere after leonas overblot and before azuls, Crowly has found a way to send Yuu home reluctantly. Yuu, grim and the aduece duo, and maybe some of heartslaybul or savana claw whoever you want come with them to the office to send them home. But Yuu is contemplating whether or not they WANT to go home now. But something goes wrong, maybe grim messes up the spell for the portal to work becuase (although he doesn’t want to admit it ) doesn’t want Yuu leaving, and their greeted with a surprise guest. Now this gives Yuu time to decide if they genuinely wanna go home and when teh archon finally has the materials they need to create a portal Yuu will tell them to leave the portal open (maybe put it into a tiny pocket mirror like the how we have the teapot) because they wanna stay for a little while or just until grim graduates (Que a happy fire cat ) and the archon whose grown attached to some people here was like ok “let our friends visit whenever they want, only if their headmaster allows it”

Now onto the headcanons

Anemo Archon! Reader and Mondstadt! Yuu

Everyone expected a lot of things not a person with Green eyes and (H/C) hair with green highlights. And an odd thing about them was the glowing stone on their person, Yuu didn’t have that?

Everyone’s freaking out because they’ve accidentaly taken another person from Yuus world.

And since Venti Is a well known famous bard In teyvat let’s say or Dear (y/N) is also a known bard and is not at all freaking out about what’s going on in fact let’s say our dear reader recognizes Yuu! And so now (Y/N) is now a new student (and a new headache for Crowley) in the ramshackle dorm! Yup! Just an ordinary human bard, Ehe~.

I’ll leave the rest of this up to you, Where Yuu has to explain what the world of teyvat is like (and why Yuu doesn’t have a phone (and a vision) because Twisted wonderland is far more advance in Technology and teyvat has JUST invented the Camera)

Also I head canon that people with Visions can summon their weapons and object with their visions, ok? Ok. To make things make more sense when reader pulls out a lyre from floating glitter.

Geo archon!reader and Liyue! Yuu

Same things happend here, but hey! We’ve summoned a Funeral Consultant! A very (ahemATTRACTIVEahem) Wise funeral consultant at best!

Our dear Friend (y/n) is very calm about the situation as well. After all everyone and liyue knows their god was killed and The Adepti are watching over them

So Our dear reader is seeing this as a free vacation 😊

Electro Archon!Reader and Inazuma!yuu

Since the god of Inazuma isn’t “Dead” or hasn’t left and the people know what their beloved archon looks like, Yuu will definitely Be Freaking the fuck out

“YOU DIDNT BRING ME HOME YOU JUST SUMMONED MY PEOPLES FUCKING GOD OH SHIT”

insert the meme of the womens face that gets zoomed in on the second panel “the. WHAT.” 😃

And y’know how Eis “Hello” voice line where she makes the traveler her guard she says the same thing to Yuu except “I recognize you are one of my people as your archon I shall be your guard and keep you safe from any danger in this Foreign world” and let’s say The puppet will not be used and Reader will be in control becuase they don’t have to worry about erosion right now so the puppet will be resting while (Y/N) is in control protecting their Precious Inazuma citizen is ok.

Well until They can get the materials they need to open a portal. I’ll let you figure out the rest, but congrats ramshackle you now have a god in your abode 😃✨

-Plot Anon 💗

PLOT ANON-SAMAAAAAAAAAA ILY!!!!!!!!! Thank you for your hard work sob

Anyways, for skills of the archons-

Dendro Archon

I think they'd use a sword or a catalyst tbh, if the skills you listed, it makes a little more sense to have them be more of a catalyst

For their elemental skill, I think they'd summon/throw something similar to Klee's and Aloy's elemental skill except they heal if someone in your party is nearby, their healing could scale by their EM or ER.

For their burst, I like your head canon for the Dendro Archon, so I might go off from that and your idea for their burst, just more tweaking. The dendro archon would be able to summon a large plant that heals AND deals Dendro damage by sapping mobs hp. The amount of life sapping it does and the healing would scale off their original HP (artifacts that give hp won't be of use)

Hydro Archon

I agree with hydro polearm or sword. Too many catalysts

Mmm... To be honest, I think you should have the burst be her skill... The whip idea is intriguing, but I think it would work more for a skill which can allow them to use it several times before waiting for the CD to go down. I think the whip skill would work better with Crit as well.

AND AS FOR THE MENTIONS OF WAVE AND A SEA CREATURE, I'LL DO YOU ONE BETTER BUT FOR THEIR BURST!!!! They summon a large tsunami which takes form of a monster/animal and lunges at the mobs (similar to Zhongli tossing down a dumbbell), however the amount of damage the burst can do is depending on if they are afflicted by the wet status the mobs are afflicted by. If already afflicted with hydro, the mobs would receive double damage while those with other elements afflicted on them would receive the element combination DMG and normal DMG while those that aren't affected by an element, they would receive normal damage. The amount of damage the burst does is scaled by EM.

Pyro Archon

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA CLAYMORE

Hmmm.... I think the skill would be they set an AoE with magma, mobs will receive damage from it and will continue to receive damage if they stay on it, but those who are in party, they will receive an ATK boost that scales from HP.

For the burst, I think I'll use a character from Honkai Impact with their special move which is Murata Himeko in Vermilion Knight: Eclipse battlesuit. Pyro Archon uses their claymore and another claymore but made of pyro and is far more larger and their cut scene has the Archon raise the pyro claymore above their head and slam it down to send pyro erupting from the ground (similar to the pyro axe wielding hilichurls)

Cryo Archon

I agree with catalyst

Mmmmmm.... I'd say her skill would beeeeee... Trapping several mobs or so in ice. They can either do 2-4 ice traps depending if you got their c1. (The ice traps are similar to Mirror Maidens traps BTW but it deals or affects the mobs with cryo)

For burst, I like the idea of summoning a blizzard/swords, but it's similar to Ganyu's. SO I'LL DO YOU ONE BETTER!!!! Cryo Archon will summon a blizzard which freezes mobs without having to use hydro, the freeze status lasts for a total of 15 seconds or higher if you got their c3

Hmmm... I like the idea, but imma tweak it a bit. The archon was in fact summoned through that portal because Grim decided to mess it up just for Yuu to stay a little longer, and so the Archon now resides in Twisted Wonderland as well in order to aide them until they can return back to their world. That way it makes more sense and makes it more fun.

Anemo archon

Yuu would be a bit jealous about them because they got a vision.

Crowley needs to hide his money

Sam has been strictly told to not give them wine that Sam stores in his shop...

Vargus is conflicted about them because they legit float without magic

Trein recurved a major headache

Divus is praying to whatever god existing to take them back

Ehe

EHE TE NANDAYO!?

Geo Archon

Yuu feels awkward meeting the consultant of the funeral parlor having to meet the Director...

Crowley is praying for dear god for them to go away.

"STOP TAKING MY MONEY YOU GORGEOUS FIEND" - Crowley

Train + Crewel + You = Besties

Sam was literally threatened to not joke around with you with business.

You legit did not fuck around with people when in contracts.

"Osmanthus wi-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP" - everyone

Electro Archon

Yuu is literally terrified in "your" presence.

Shogun malfunctioned due to being in an entirely new world so you had to disable Shogun's rules and create new ones regarding this world.

Yuu is still unaware of Shogun being a puppet

Crowley is no longer safe.

The staff (specifically Crewel) is supporting Shogun/You to beat Crowley's ass into shape.

Only the Diasomnia dorm knows your predicament with you and your puppet(s).

You are the definition of Queen/King/Royalty of the school. If you search up NRC, your picture literally plastered on it as the definition.

[kindaeccentric]

When I was writing my university bachelor's degree thesis (that I'm still to defend) about Penny Dreadful as a modern adaptation of Frankenstein I noticed how the original novel's homoeroticism is realized by the series in an interesting way.

In the way he is presented, it seems to me that Victor secretly desires men, but thinks that only through creating a perfect one by himself he's allowed to touch other man's skin. His endeavour to pierce the veil between life and death is an excuse, since Victor from the series grew up lonely after the death of his mother and he searches for companionship, for someone who would love him unconditionally, like his mother used to. He believes he can find such love only in a person he creates himself, brings from the dead, and who would see him as his only friend, calm and obedient. Yet his first instinct is to make a man, not a woman, and a handsome man at that.

I can imagine both Rory Kinnear and Alex Price are not everybody's cup of tea (I do find them attractive, they are quite charismatic), but the way the original Creature and Proteus are shown makes them attractive. Proteus we see through Victor's eyes, when he is tending to his body before its even reanimated, when he sketches him (a sure sign of affection) and when he teaches him how to eat in a way that becomes seductive, because of how the camera lingers on his lips and then, in a closeup, on his fingers running down his long throat, immediately bringing to mind erotic imagery. Some may argue that Victor tries to emulate the relationship between his mother and himself taking the parental role and projecting onto Proteus the role of his childhood self, and as much as it is partially true, their relationship bears these marks of hidden desire on Victor's part from the start. The image at the end of the first episode when Proteus is born shows Victor trembling, teary-eyed, looking at the body, a torn and stitched back together, but human body, of a naked man. He's afraid, but not necessarily of the man, but of finally getting what he wanted, it's a fear resulting from excitement. Then the man is touching his face tenderly and Victor, still trembling, cannot stop himself from a little smile. Their faces are softly illuminated by the orange light of the gas lamp, creating an intimate atmosphere of a warm bedroom. Victor practically gasps hearing his own name smoken by Proteus. I doubt all of it was intentional in the way I read it, but it doesn't change the fact that the final scene can be easily interpreted this way.

Then the original Creature, with the violence surrounding his return, presents him as highly masculine, smart, powerful, a direct opposite to the delicate, clueless Proteus Victor could easily form into whatever he wanted. The Creature throughout the entire series is perceived as ugly by some and easily tolerated by others, making his ugliness purely subjective, since, despite his small deformities he remains strangely alluring with his gothic qualities (black long hair, black lips, white skin, yellow eyes, proportional features) of a dark brooding gentleman. With blood on his face he becomes vampire-like (vampires always a symbol of hidden desires and 'depraved' sexuality, the Creature and Victor becoming a mirror image of Vanessa and vampire Mina, both Creature's and Mina's monstrosity an indirect result of Victor's and Vanessa's desire towards having a same-sex companion). The Creature touches Victor's face, a callback to Proteus doing it, but the Creature is not gentle, he smears blood all over Victor's face (blood in vampire narratives was always a symbol for other bodily fluids, that's why it seems so sexy, it also gained another meaning in the 80s, due to the HIV epidemic, which no filmmaker can shake off if they tried, I could discuss it more with The Lost Boys, but no time for that right now).

The dynamic between Victor and the Creature is a reversal of Victor's budding relationship with Proteus, experience winning over innocence. Victor is under another man's rule, and it terrifies him, because it would force him into a position of having to admit his attraction, whereas as the one in control he could have still easily deny it. The Creature, with all his attributes, symbolizes carnal love, he's all 'body', where Proteus was virginal, pious love (to an extent). In one of the scenes where we see Proteus he looks up into the skylight at Victor's apartment and appears angelic, as if in a halo of white light.

It's revealed Victor never had a woman, and the series wants the viewer to believe it's because of his awkwardness and passion for science that consumed him, but his dedication to creating himself male companions instead of searching for a living female one is exactly what makes him seem more queer coded.

It's clear that the lack of paternal figure results in Victor quickly becoming close with older men he encounters (Sir Malcolm, Van Helsing), but it also puts him into a position where he's constantly surrounded by men, with whom he feels more at ease, and is intimidated by women. The rivalry between him and Ethan is that of siblings, until the moment when Ethan teaches him how to shoot a gun. It might be a stretch (it is a bit of a stretch, I admit), but a gun often, especially in horror, alongside a knife, represents manhood and masculine power. Victor allows Ethan to touch him and encourages him to show off with the gun, which is a scene all too familiar from many other movies where the role of Victor is reserved for a woman and the interaction is flirtatious (can't pull examples out of thin air, but if you saw over 1400 movies like me you know I'm not lying). All this adds to the general image of Victor.

The Creature and Victor, when they are on a walk, have a very revealing conversation in which the Creature points out how quick Victor was to grow attached to his more perfect man, and Victor doesn't deny it, he admits that he did in fact feel affection towards Proteus, although the meaning of it as the scorned past partner expressing jealousy over the love he didn't get while someone else did is largely subtext. When the Creature says that he's lonely, Victor answers 'I cannot love you' (paraphrase, because I can't find the exact quote right now) and the Creature, disillusioned, mocks him, 'I do not want what you cannot give' suggesting that Victor, by making himself a meek obedient man, is selfish, cruel, manipulating, and a coward, therefore could not have loved Proteus truly. Then again, Victor cannot bring himself to love his original Creature, because he's not the ideal man he envisioned and by then the Creature being too aware of his flaws of character. The Creature/Caliban/John Clare knows that Victor is 'monstrous', not just because he's someone who desecrates dead bodies, plays God and abandons his creation, but because of his queer desire. It's important that in the case of Penny Dreadful 'monstrosity' signifies many different things, literal (being a vampire werewolf, witch, and so on), metaphorical (bad deeds, like letting your son die a horrible death, cheating, killing etc.) and wholy subjective, merely condemned by ignorant society (Sembene's blackness, Brona's sex work, Lily's want to be equal or greater than men, Vanessa's want for sexual freedom, the Creature's ugliness, Angelique being transgender and other cases), so it's NOT that much of a stretch this time.

We also have the whole problem with Lily. Victor is so attached to Lily (who takes up both Elizabeth's and creature's bride parts in the novel) because he believes that only by possessing a good woman he'll be redeemed for his 'sinful' desires, but he's foolish to think that. This belief reduces a woman to a semi-maternal, semi-virginal angelic ideal with no sexual urges or agency, like virgin Mary. Lily is a true replacement for Victor's mother, and his imagined redemption. As long as she's similar to Proteus, in that she's not sexual, and pure like an angel. Yet Lily is not a woman in that sense. She is another of Victor's creatures, so she partially also takes over the role of the original Creature from the novel, a male. She's not an ideal of a Victorian obedient wife, she has power, or tries to have it, but power in the context of patriarchal society is masculine by nature. The moment she drops her pretenses of a weak delicate wife-like girl Victor does not want her like this. He doesn't want a woman that is sexually liberated, because he doesn't like women in this way, and yet, by being similar to the first Creature (from Victor's perspective, from hers John Clare is similar to Victor-a man, I could delve into Brona's sexuality, but later, this thing is already way longer than I intended) she's 'the man' he wanted.

There is also Henry. Henry Jekyll takes the role of his namesake in the novel, Henry Clerval, Victor's closest friend, and a character most often cited to have homoerotic tension with Victor. It's true that some of the eroticism might be accidental, stemming from the prevalence of homosocial interactions in 'Frankenstein' which in turn is a result of misogynistic nature of 19th century Genevian society and in-novel universe reflecting it, but like I mentioned before, it still feeds into the queer reading of the text and translates beautifully into Jekyll and Victor being both extremely misogynistic towards Lily and their mutual homoerotic tension. In the scenes where Henry purposes his plan to Victor he practically seductively purrs it into his ear, Lily becomes merely a female buffer that allows for that interaction, a female presence which is an excuse for male closeness (here I have a couple of examples actually: Dead Ringers, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Scream (in a roundabout way, through murder) and a couple others, but that deserves its own article). I won't even mention more references to the novel, because that's a lot already.

Penny Dreadful, although I believe largely unintentionally, expands on what is already there through the changes it introduces in relation to the novel's plot. I have nothing else smart to say, I just think it's worth considering.

*I use the word 'queer', because that's the umbrella term we use in academic writing for years now and even our lgbt+ group at university is called 'queer', so don't come at me with stupid takes

[melrosing]

did they actually read the chapter? Jaime is exhibiting sexual attraction to Brienne within the first few pages, there is never going to be this choice between a sex life and an inspiring woman or whatever. it's so demeaning to Cersei as well to reduce her to Jaime's sex life, and deny Brienne sexuality on the other hand because she's not beautiful.

okay, I think what was actually said on this podcast is going to get lost in translation over here if I just kind of vaguely refer to arguments I disagreed with. so to start with, I think anyone who's interested in what the NotACast guys and Dr Shiloh had to say on Jaime & Brienne would be best off listening to it themselves, I really don't want to misrepresent them here.

but I'll share the quote I was referring to, and preface that by saying that PoorQuentyn/Emmett does flat out state earlier in the episode that yeah, Jaime is sexually attracted to Brienne. he refers to the usual quotes, i.e. Jaime eyeing up her calves, picturing her in a dress, admiring her eyes, etc, etc. so far so good lol, obviously we've very much been over all that over in this sphere of fandom, but NotACast is most popular amongst fans from different spheres, including many fans who have not engaged at all with the discourse around JB. so, makes sense to include these foundational readings in the podcast.

anyway, the quote I was referring to (don't look at me transcribing is a weird hobby of mine):

PQ [1:19:56]: It’s interesting to me that you have this… kind of trying to decouple the courtly elements from the sexual elements? Because Jaime and Brienne do have that - more kind of - the chaste elements of the romance, with the actual sexuality kind of displaced onto Cersei. And it does feel like… it does feel like to me on some level that Jaime kind of wishes he could combine these two women. Like that would be the ideal for him*laughs*. As if he could force Brienne and Cersei into like, a machine from The Fly or something, and just make himself… that for him would be kind of the ideal, and I wonder if what George is trying to do is make that romantic ideal impossible for Jaime, by splitting it into two people. And saying, you can either have… your traditionally beautiful woman, you know, who you’ve been obsessed with, and your partner, or you can be with a person who makes you feel like a true knight. But these are antithetical. And I think that’s interesting.

(I'm putting the rest under the cut because this is long.)

this take is actually kind of bizarre when you consider the fact that, as I said, PQ has already acknowledged that there is a sexual element to JB. perhaps he's just riffing off of the convo BBF and and Dr Shiloh have just had where they wonder where to place Cersei in the conversation between JB and Arthuriana. personally I'd say that Cersei doesn't really belong in that conversation, and that's kind of the point: Jaime's wanted her to, but she never has. however, Dr Shiloh argues that Cersei and Brienne parallel the two women in Lancelot's life, where Lancelot is Jaime, Cersei = Guinevere, Brienne = Elaine of Corbenic (I... do not agree lmao but that's a separate matter)

so PQ's following on from this strain, comparing and contrasting the roles of Brienne and Cersei in Jaime's narrative, just feeling around for what sounds right by the looks of it. however! this does not sound right to me. let's unpack!!!!

It’s interesting to me that you have this… kind of trying to decouple the courtly elements from the sexual elements? Because Jaime and Brienne do have that - more kind of - the chaste elements of the romance

so as we've just established, there are sexual elements to JB in Jaime I alone, but they do not stop there: they get more pronounced. in fact by Jaime III they're already pretty explicit: JB have that entire sword fight in the river that is literally screaming look at their physical chemistry (I wrote more on that here) - the whole fight is half written as a sex scene, it's not remotely subtle.

and of course the undertones continue, to the point that they're not even undertones anymore, it's just Jaime getting an erection in the bath as he stares at Brienne's naked body.

but there are courtly elements too, and I won't list all of them off but these are best encapsulated in Jaime IX, where JB are almost meeting again for the first time, as they might in a traditional courtly setting where Jaime is dressed as a dashing knight and Brienne is dressed as a highborn lady, and they kind of awkwardly compliment each other, and instead of the lady bestowing a sword and a quest upon her knight it's the other way round, etc etc you know I love this shit lmao ANYWAY

so it's pretty clear Jaime and Brienne have both bases covered: the courtly and the sexual, and that they do, as the hosts observe in the episode, switch between the roles of the knight and the damsel. the whole point is that they gel perfectly: in falling in love they do not force the other into a contained role, but rather liberate the other from what was a contained role.

MEANWHILE.

...with the actual sexuality kind of displaced onto Cersei.

is the 'actual sexuality' displaced onto Cersei? or is it just that Cersei is the only person Jaime has had sex with so far? as we've established, Jaime and Brienne have a distinct physical chemistry, and we even get a subtle little comparison between this and that which Jaime has with Cersei here:

Her arm was all gooseflesh, clammy and chilled, but she was strong, and gentler than he would have thought. Gentler than Cersei, he thought [JAIME V, ASOS]

Cersei has been his only partner for all of his life, but that does not make her his perfect match in that respect.

moving on.

I wonder if what George is trying to do is make that romantic ideal impossible for Jaime, by splitting it into two people. And saying, you can either have… your traditionally beautiful woman, you know, who you’ve been obsessed with, and your partner, or you can be with a person who makes you feel like a true knight. But these are antithetical.

so PQ says on the one hand Jaime has Cersei, who is his passionate, beautiful, lifelong partner, and on the other there's Brienne, a chaste figure who makes him feel good about himself. and that these two things are antithetical, making the romantic ideal impossible for Jaime.

so. to start with, nowhere does ASOIAF state that Brienne can't be a passionate partner. she hasn't had the chance to be one yet, no, but this is, er, a story, things change and evolve, and we literally have evidence of passion between Jaime and Brienne on the page already.

second, Brienne is not beautiful, that's right! but that doesn't mean she falls short of a romantic ideal for Jaime??? I know I always bring up JB x Beauty and the Beast, but come on, they are literally based on a fairytale that says that love isn't about beauty, it's about the heart. and in any case, Jaime has been shown experiencing sexual attraction to women like Hildy and Pia (post-injury), who are not what society calls beautiful. he admires Cersei's beauty, sure, but we don't see anywhere that it is of the utmost importance to Jaime that his partner is beautiful. it's important to Cersei - but not Jaime.

third, PQ points out that Cersei's this lifelong obsession for Jaime, and surely that counts for something in balancing her against Brienne. well... no?? Jaime's obsession with Cersei has been based on the lies he tells himself about her, and the lies she's told him. Jaime has desperately wanted Cersei to be this benevolent figure that completes him, that he can love and protect as a true knight. she isn't, and he realises that now, and has unambiguously left her. of course he still thinks about her, it was a lifelong relationship, it was that thing he always thought of when he wanted comfort and to feel less alone, but that doesn't mean that he can't appreciate the lie in that, and the futility of his obsession.

so Brienne is not antithetical to what Cersei never was in the first place. in fact, Brienne is very much the kind of woman Jaime has wanted in Cersei (honest, loyal, loving), but simultaneously, yes, a person who inspires him, and who is just as capable of playing the role Jaime once assigned to himself. Jaime always believed his duty was to protect and comfort Cersei. with Brienne, he finds he can also be protected himself, and comforted himself. that's that whole damsel/knight switcheroo that NotACast were so taken with. that's the romantic ideal being, actually, perfectly possible for Jaime and Brienne both, it just... doesn't look as they thought it did.

ANYWAY. that's my thoughts on that. and for the record I do not think the podcast is bad or that the hosts are stupid and the last thing I want to do here is encourage any negativity towards them. I just thought that take was daft and wanted to take it apart with my bare hands lmao

[dwellordream]

“…If the crusades were primarily military expeditions, and women were not expected to fight, we might first ask why they were present in significant numbers. What motivated their involvement? The answer to this question is not easily discernable since there were women from all classes of society present on crusade. Moreover, historians have no way of knowing for sure how many women and other non-combatants actually left with the crusading armies. The sheer length and size of many campaigns meant that for any medieval army to function effectively, it required many non-combatants – engineers, bakers, artisans, tailors, squires, prostitutes and so on – in addition to the presence of fighting men and their commanders.

Numerous women formed a part of this retinue; however, the vast majority of women were poor and, in comparison to the knights, foot soldiers and other male warriors who set out alongside them, militarily unsuited to the task of conquering the Holy Land. Many of these women came alone or unmarried, while others had left their homes to come on crusade with their whole family in search of a better life, no doubt influenced to some extent by the enthusiasm and excitement which greeted the whole concept of a holy war. Other factors probably also influenced their decisions to leave for with the crusade army. The fact that certain celestial phenomenon such as aurora and comet sightings around the time that the First Crusade was being preached auspiciously coincided with the end of a long French drought in 1096 may have prompted some women to leave with the crusade army, although it is hard to know for certain.

Moreover, there is also the possibility that, for those who wished to make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the prospect of travelling with an armed force who could protect them all the way appealed to unarmed female (and male) pilgrims. One eyewitness to the preparations for the First Crusade, Bernold of Constance, even recorded that ‘innumerable’ numbers of women disguised themselves in men’s clothing, possibly because they wished to actually take up arms against the enemy. This suggestion is supported by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, which asserted that ‘women and children’ were amongst those who ‘wanted to war against heathen nations’. Furthermore, we cannot discount the spiritual incentive of simply going to the Holy Land, which undoubtedly would have also helped motivate the masses of men and women to leave on crusade.

In some cases noblewomen also left on crusade, usually in the company of their husbands or other male relatives. Eleanor of Aquitaine, Marie of Champagne, Marguerite of Provence and Eleanor of Castile are all well-known examples of women who followed their husbands on crusade to the Holy Land. Once again though, the motivations for noblewomen who went on crusade are not easily ascertained, although the length of the crusade expeditions (which could last for years) probably had something to do with it, especially for couples who wanted to stay together. Other women appear to have acted fairly independently: around the time of the First Crusade, Emerias of Altejas took the cross by herself, but was persuaded by the bishop of Toulouse to endow a monastery instead of leaving for Jerusalem.

Alice, countess of Brittany, took a crusade vow in the 1260s, and, after her husband died in 1279 without fulfilling his vows, left for the East – specifically the city of Acre – in the late 1280s. On a broader scale, Kedar has drawn attention to an extant passenger list of a crusader ship in the mid-thirteenth century that had 453 passengers on board, forty-two of which were women, and of these women twenty- two were travelling with no male companion. Whatever their motivation, the fact that certain lords and their wives had to consider such decisions at all helped differentiate the crusades from other, more localised military escapades fought on a smaller scale that did not involve the same prospect of spiritual reward or the same possibility for material gain (at least early on) in the form of land.

Clearly, then, there were women from a range of different backgrounds present on crusade, for a variety of different reasons. The support which they rendered to the fighting men, however, was primarily indirect and auxiliary regardless of their social rank, and included such tasks as washing, cleaning clothes, cooking, gathering supplies – even picking lice and fleas off the men’s bodies. They might also provide comfort to the men (through prostitution), or when new territory was conquered they could assist with and become a part of settlement plans within that territory. In another sense, however, women could provide spiritual support for the men, encouraging them whilst they fought and praying for God’s favour.

The medieval poet Baldric of Dol, for instance, in his account of the First Crusade, noted that women and other non-combatants were an integral part of the spiritual side of the crusade and prayed for the men whilst they were fighting. Although this may not sound like a particularly useful form of ‘support’ to those living in the twenty-first century, spiritual supplication was still important since the crusades were a holy war and it was believed that God was on their side. Prayer thus helped ensure God’s favour and consequently the likelihood of military success.

The provision of supplies to the fighting men, most notably water, was another basic but essential form of support women rendered to men on crusade. Describing the female presence at the battle of Dorylaeum, one anonymous chronicler at the scene notes how ‘[t]he women in our camp were a great help to us that day, for they brought up water for the fighting men to drink, and gallantly encouraged those who were fighting and defending them’. Likewise Margaret of Beverly, whose brother recorded her experiences in the Holy Land around the time of the Third Crusade, recounted how she put a pot on her head for protection and brought water to the men on the walls during Saladin’s siege of Jerusalem, being injured in the process by an enemy projectile.

Oliver of Paderborn, whose account of the Fifth Crusade is one of the most detailed and important sources available, also recalled a similar form of female support during the crusaders’ attack on Damietta in Egypt, when he mentions that ‘the women fearlessly brought water and stones, wine and bread to the warriors’. Not long afterwards, during a skirmish between crusaders and Saracens at a castle south of Damietta, he mentions women carrying and distributing water to clerics and foot-soldiers.

The Fifth Crusade also offers examples of how women might assist an army with other supplies besides water. Powell has documented how women were said to have helped grind corn for the Christian army whilst it was besieging Damietta, how they were in charge of the markets selling fish and vegetables to the crusaders, and how they helped attend to the sick and needy. Most notably, Powell notes that women even acted as guards in the crusade camp and were assigned with weapons to prevent desertions and maintain order while the army prepared for a fresh attack against the city.

Joinville too, in his chronicle of the Seventh Crusade, described women who ‘sold provisions’ raising a cry of alarm when the Count of Poitiers was captured at the battle of Mansourah (February 1250). These examples suggest that women could be of definite help on a military expedition, and whilst we should not generalise and assume that women fulfilled the same logistical roles in every crusade or medieval military campaign, it is important to be aware of the different ways they might have rendered basic support and provisions to armies on campaign.

At the same time, however, women sometimes did become much more involved with military actions and appear to have actually used weapons themselves on the enemy, though not specifically in hand-to-hand combat. During the second siege of Toulouse in 1218, for instance, women from within the city supposedly operated the mangonel or perrière (a stone-throwing device) that killed Simon de Montfort, leader of the Albigensian Crusade, just as a Frankish woman ‘shooting from the citadel’ with a mangonel was said to have destroyed the Muslims’ mangonel at Saladin’s siege of Burzay in 1188.

Acting in a similarly defensive manner were the women who helped repel the French attack during the siege of Hennebont in 1342 by throwing stones and pots of chalk from the walls onto the enemy at the urging of Jeanne de Montfort. Likewise, in 1358 women also played an important role in defending the French township of Senlis from an attack by French nobles during the short-lived but violent peasant uprising known as the ‘Jacquerie’. In this case, the townsfolk were forewarned of the attack and had their women stationed at windows ‘to pour great quantities of boiling water down upon the enemy’ while their men-folk fought off the attackers.

…Nevertheless, there are accounts of women who dressed in armour and who may have physically fought the enemy. In studying the evidence available, though, we must be very careful in accounting for possible bias in the sources, particularly in accounts where the author’s ulterior motive may have been to portray the enemy in an unfavourable light and especially when it comes to descriptions of actual female combatants. Hence we must treat as suspicious a passage by the Byzantine chronicler, Niketas Choniatēs, about mounted women bearing ‘lances and weapons’ and dressed in ‘masculine garb...more mannish than the Amazons’ on the Second Crusade. According to the modern translator, this passage was assumed by Steven Runciman to refer to Eleanor of Aquitaine and her retinue, despite the fact that her name was not specifically mentioned. While Eleanor was indeed present on this crusade, the passage makes more sense, however, if it is understood as an attempt to criticise the Franks as uncivilised and even barbaric compared to the Greeks, because they allowed their women to don armour and unnaturally fight as warriors.

In the same way, Muslim chroniclers’ descriptions of Frankish women who supposedly dressed up and rode into battle at the siege of Acre ‘as brave men though they were but tender women’, and who were subsequently ‘not recognised as women until they had been stripped of their arms’ – as well as another Muslim account of a Frankish noblewoman who allegedly fought at Acre alongside 500 of her own knights – must be treated with caution. As Nicholson has noted, for both Christians and Muslims ‘it was expected that good, virtuous women would not normally fight...in a civilised, godly society’. By depicting Frankish women as warriors, therefore, the Muslim chroniclers could illustrate the barbarous and heathen nature of Christian society and contrast it with the properly ordered Muslim society where women knew their place. Thus, while we cannot rule out the possibility that some women at Acre may have actually dressed up and fought, the Muslim accounts are certainly questionable.

Likewise, other accounts of female combatants and women in armour that do not appear to be influenced directly by religious bias must still be carefully evaluated. In France, Orderic Vitalis recorded how Isabel of Conches rode ‘armed as a knight among the knights’ during a conflict in 1090 between her husband, Ralph of Conches, and Count William of Évreux. Although Orderic remarked on her courage among the knights, he says nothing about her subsequent actions, and thus we have no way of knowing if she actually fought. In a similar vein, the English chronicler Jordan Fantosme, writing primarily of the rebellion against Henry II by his son Henry ‘the Young King’ in 1173-1174, asserted that the earl of Leicester had his wife, Petronella, countess of Leicester, dressed up in armour and given a shield and lance before the battle of Fornham in October 1173.

According to Fantosme, Petronella encouraged the earl to fight the English, but fled from the battle while it was in progress and then fell into a ditch where she nearly drowned. Fantosme, however, was the only chronicler to describe Petronella’s martial deeds, and Johns has argued that he was clearly trying to portray Petronella in an unsympathetic way in order to emphasise that women should not be involved in military affairs. Fantosme wrote to entertain, but also to instruct moral lessons and highlight divine law; Petronella thus served as an example against women’s involvement in war and the follies of accepting female advice. Nevertheless, Petronella must have been present or involved in some way since other sources do mention that she was captured after the battle along with the earl and that she was present with him on campaign in England.

Further afield, in the Holy Land, William of Tyre contended that in the first crusade army’s excitement at the imminent capture of Jerusalem ‘even women, regardless of their sex and natural weakness, dared to assume arms and fought manfully far beyond their strength’. His account, however, cannot be verified as no eyewitness accounts of this siege actually describe women acting in such a manner. Likewise, although the memoirs of the twelfth century Muslim nobleman Usāmah Ibn-Munqidh mention several female combatants – a female Muslim slave who rushed into battle ‘sword in hand’; a Frankish women who used a jar to try and help fend off an attack on Frankish pilgrims; a Muslim woman in Shayzar who captured and had killed three Frankish men – it is important to be aware that Usāmah was recalling these anecdotes sixty years after they supposedly took place.

…It is because of this need for more defenders that other accounts of female combatants may be considered more reliable. For, even though Muslim writers are our source for the story of a female archer at Acre who, in defending the city, ‘wounded many Muslims before she was overcome and killed’, it is quite possible that in the heat of battle, when manpower was necessary to fight off attackers, this woman was forced to draw a bow. Equally plausible are these same Muslim writers’ astonishment at finding women amongst the dead on the battlefield after a failed Christian attack on Saladin’s camp, though this revelation does not tell us that these women actually fought.

Then there is the case of Christian women who executed the crew of a captured Turkish ship at Acre. According to the Itinerarium Peregrinorum, ‘the women’s physical weakness prolonged the pain of death, because they cut their heads off with knives instead of swords’. Again, although the women were not actually fighting in battle, it is quite possible that this event did occur given that the men had been defeated already and the women were perhaps motivated by thoughts of revenge. As Evans points out, the passage still displays ‘a gendered approach to weaponry’ in that the Muslims’ death at the hands of women is emphasised as ‘humiliating’ and reference made to women’s weakness – implying that the women were acting in an unnatural way.”

- James Michael Illston, ‘An Entirely Masculine Activity’? Women and War in the High and Late Middle Ages Reconsidered

[shera-dnd]

I do believe we’ve gone too long without a good antagonist, so it’s time I introduced two in one go.

Also there is a joke there that I wrote before I even started writing the fic itself and I’m sure y’all will immediately recognize which one that is

“Amitola.”

Ilia blinked awake. It was a cold morning in their little camp, and her body was still sore from last night’s sparring session. She wished for nothing more than to stay inside her bedroll just a little longer, but a feeling of unease kept her from resting once more.

She recognized the voice, she certainly recognized the name, but there was no possible way she had actually heard that. That must have been a dream or perhaps she had simply misheard something in her half asleep state.

That didn’t matter, the sun had risen, and there was no doubt her dutiful knights were already awake and waiting for her to join them. So she quickly placed her usual glamour upon herself, donned one of her fine dresses, and stepped out of her tent.

“Good morning, my fair lady,” Weiss greeted cheerfully.

She sat by the campfire, preparing their breakfast as Belladonna watched her in amusement. She clearly didn’t expect the Schnee to know how to cook.

“Morning, Schnee,” Ilia replied, “what has gotten you in such a pleasant mood?”

“It was you, of course,” she explained, “last night has brought me such great joy.”

Ilia should not have expected the Schnee to know how to mind her wording, if the black knight’s grin was anything to go by.

“Is it safe to ask what has happened in this camp while I was gone?” Belladonna asked.

“I cannot say,” Ilia replied, unamused, “is it safe to ask why you’ve been gone all night?”

Weiss looked between the two of them in confusion, “is it safe to ask what you two are on about?”

“Oh, no, it certainly is not,” Belladonna chuckled.

“Then I believe a change of subject is in order,” Weiss declared, trying her best to evade whatever it was her companions were talking about, “Lady Rose and Lady Polendina have invited me over for target practice today. If my lady would allow it, I’d like us to make our way to their camp as soon as we’re done with this meal.”

“I…” Ilia wasn’t sure how to answer her. Her dream had left her unnerved, and spending time with the lovebirds would do nothing to ease her worries.

“I find myself indisposed today,” she settled on.

Weiss was visibly disappointed, but was quick to hide it behind the mask of a dutiful knight, “then I shall let them know we won’t make it today.”

“No, wait!” Ilia interrupted, not because she cared about the Schnee’s feelings, but because she did not want to spend all day in the company of a moping human, “just go if you want to. Don’t let me keep you.”

Weiss’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by this response, “are you certain, Lady Ilia?”

She scoffed in annoyance, “I wouldn’t have said so if I weren’t.”

At that the knight-to-be smiled at her in a way that certainly did not set her heart a flutter, and most definitely did not ease her worries like she were some fretting damsel. In fact, the only thing that got any reaction out of Ilia was when the Schnee decided to go on a tedious ramble, going on about how she would not forget such an act of kindness.

“Yes, yes, I’m a goddess amongst mortals,” she interrupted, “now shouldn’t you be making us breakfast?”

“Of course!” She agreed, promptly returning to the task at hand.

The resulting meal was surprisingly not deadly. In fact, as loath to admit it as Ilia was, it was in fact quite good.

“That was quite the astounding meal, Lady Weiss,” Belladonna praised, “I did not expect an atlesian noble to know how to cook.”

“Do not inflate her ego any further,” Ilia chided, “just be grateful the Schnee did not poison us.”

At least an attempt would have made her unease feel more warranted.

“You both flatter me,” Weiss replied. Though her smile was proud, it was closer to that of a farmer being recognized for their hard work, than that of a lord listing off their titles. It was charming in a way.

Not that Ilia would ever say that out loud.

“Great, you’ve made the Schnee happy, what a way to spoil my meal,” Ilia complained, though neither of them bought it, “shouldn’t you be on your way? Wouldn’t want to keep the lovebirds waiting.”

“You’re right, of course,” Weiss surrendered, getting up as she spoke, “I only request that you do not miss me in my absence.”

“Never has a request been so easy to fulfill,” Ilia replied, rolling her eyes, “now be gone.”

With that Weiss left them. Though Ilia assumed she’d get a moment of peace, it was clear Belladonna had other plans, for she kept looking at Ilia with the most insufferable of expressions plastered across her face. She knew what that look meant, she knew the conversation that would follow, and she most certainly did not want to partake in it.

“Not a word, Belladonna,” she threatened. It was a futile endeavor, all that did was work a smirk into that unbearable face of hers.

“You and ‘the Schnee’ seem very close,” she commented, to her own amusement and to Ilia’s great pain.

“I do not appreciate the implication in your tone, seelie,” Ilia complained.

“You have yet to tell me what has gotten Lady Weiss in such a cheerful mood,” Belladonna insisted.

“We sparred,” she replied, “nothing more to it than that.”

“Funny, that’s just what me and Yang did last night as well,” Belladonna commented.

“I still cannot comprehend what you see in that human,” Ilia shook her head.

“She eats for ten men and could take down just as many with her bare hands, and yet she could name every constellation in the sky and every flower in these fields,” she explained, her voice was sweet, but tasted like bitter jealousy to Ilia’s ear, “she fights like a mad woman, but speaks like a poet, and I have yet to decide what attracts me most.”

It was harder than it should have been, to accept Belladonna’s happiness, to be happy for her as well. Even now, so many years later, a part of Ilia still wished that her friend would speak of her in that way, that they could be more than just friends.

But she had accepted that this was not meant to be, and if the chieftain made Belladonna happy, then she should be happy for her as well.

“I take that to mean that you wish for her to speak poetry between your thighs,” Ilia joked. It was somewhat forced, but she tried.

“I cannot say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” Belladonna replied, “though for now I’m content with our walks and our sparring sessions.”

“Do you plan on telling her what you are?” Ilia asked. Jealousy aside, that had been her primary concern when it came to that human.

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” she assured her, though that only served to confuse poor Ilia, “I believe she has figured us out already.”

“She has what!?” Ilia demanded.

“She has been slowly wearing less and less iron around me,” Belladonna explained, “yesterday I caught her taking off her bracelets before coming to greet me.”

“How could she even know!?”

“I’m not certain,” she replied, “regardless, it was very sweet of her.”

“How so? Iron doesn’t seem to have any effect on you,” Ilia asked, though there was a near accusatory tone to her words, “she might as well be removing that cloak of hers for all it matters.”

“It isn’t for any practical reasons really. it’s simply that she cares enough about my comfort to do so,” she replied, “hasn’t your human done the same for you?”

Her human?

Though the thought itself wasn’t entirely unpleasant - it had been far too long since poor Ilia had anyone to call hers - the fact that it was aimed at the Schnee of all people soured it for her. Certainly Belladonna knew she had better taste in women.

“Please, never refer to her in that way ever again,” she complained, pinching the bridge of her nose, “and besides she has put away the armor for her own comfort, not for mine.”

“Clearly,” Belladonna replied, amused, “of course our favorite knight wanabee has abandoned her signifiers of knighthood of her own volition, and only for her own benefit.”

“You’re a fool if you believe the Schnee cares for anyone other than herself,” Ilia bit back.

“And you’re a fool not to see how devoted she is to you,” Belladonna countered.

“I did not ask for devotion!” She shouted, “I did not ask to be her damned quest!”

With that shout came silence.

Neither of the fae had much to say from that point on. Though she did not enjoy having what had almost been a pleasant conversation sour so quickly, she also did not regret her outburst in any way. The simple idea of Ilia ever being with the Schnee in any way was both impossible and insulting, and the both of them just had to accept that.

“Amitola,” whispered the winds of the forest, like they had in the depths of her dream.

Ilia looked around frantically. There was no one around besides her and Belladonna. None who could know that name, or even what it meant. She turned back to her fellow fae, but she hadn’t reacted at all, still just sulking as she stared into the dwindling embers of their campfire.

“I should be going,” Belladonna said, seemingly unaware of anything wrong, “I’ve been neglectful of my duties to my order. I should rectify that.”

“Yes, of course,” Ilia replied, masking concern with bitterness, “return to your beloved humans.”

“Ami… Ilia,” she called, “you know I still care for you and for our kind.”

“Of course you do,” she almost hissed, shrouding her own unease with familiar venom, “now be gone already.”

Belladonna sighed, “as you wish.”

In little time she had suited up and set off to serve humanity once again, leaving Ilia alone to deal with the voices in the wind. She wasn’t a fool, she knew this was the doing of her people’s magic, and she recognized their summons when she heard them. What had worried her was that very few people knew that name, and fewer still had the means to travel this far north.

“Amitola,” the name echoed again, not spoken with a voice, but made to be from the wind itself.

This time Ilia answered its summons.

She ventured into the woods by herself, stripping her body of her glamour as she travelled further and further, far away from nobles and knights, from their pointless titles and empty oaths. Until once more she stood within the domain of the fae.

The forest was quieter here, a little pocket of peace set aside for her and her host.

“Amitola,” twin voices called in unison. That name, her name, was loaded with disappointment and contempt.

“Fennec,” Amitola greeted, lowering her head, “Corsac.”

From the shadows among the trees emerged the large gestalt form of the fae twins. A singular body of orange and white fur, caught somewhere between the shape of a man and a fox. It looked down on her with its four eyes, gleaming in the light that came through the branches.

“It has been too long, sister Amitola” Fennec spoke, and his voice felt like wind.

“We didn’t think we’d find you among the humans,” Corsac followed, and his breath smelled like embers.

“It makes one wonder why you left so suddenly,” the twins commented.

It was an unsettling sight to behold.

“I do not seek to join them, if that is what you’re insinuating,” Amitola returned. She was no traitor like Belladonna, and she would not be treated like one, “I seek to infiltrate them.”

“Of course,” Corsac agreed, “but what is it you have to gain from this?”

“I--”

“Don’t tell us you forgot to plan ahead, little sister,” Fennec added.

“I did plan ahead!” Amitola insisted, “I wished to…I wished to see the human world. I wanted to know the things they’ve built from our suffering. The festival felt like the best opportunity I’d get.”

“So then, did you come here only to bolster your hatred of their kind?” One asked.

“Or did you only wish to don a dress and play pretend?” The other followed.

As they spoke they circled her like a predator, their words following much the same. They had not yet betrayed violence in their intent, but it still unnerved her to be treated like prey.

Though words failed to come to her defence, her rage at being interrogated like this still burned bright, and it took the form of the same glare that had many times targeted her companions over the past few days.

The twins laughed.

“Do not worry, little Amitola,” Fennec reassured her, condescension weighing heavy on her name, “your goals may be shallow.”

“But your skill can still be put to use,” Corsac noted, “after all, you have acquired not only the perfect disguise.”

“But also their trust,” they spoke together once more, wind and fire amplified by one another, “and you will put it to good use.”

The shared body of the twins stood before her, larger, more fearsome than any singular being could ever dream to be. Under their gaze it was easy for rage to die down, and for fear and guilt to take over.

“You will do this for us, won’t you, Amitola?”

[lillywillow]

Paper Faces on Parade

Summary: A royal masquerade is being held with the purpose of finding you a husband, however, your heart is already being held by one man

 Word Count: 1457

 Square Filled: Royal AU

 Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

 Warnings: An assassination attempt

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

 From a young age, you were trained to take over the throne from your mother. You were taught everything from politics, to dancing, to sword fighting. Your mother wanted you to be fully prepared for anything a queen would be expected. When you came of age, she had been pushing you to find a husband, which was a royal requirement. Every potential suitor your mother set up ended the same way, a polite kiss on the hand and a broken promise to meet again. There was only one man you had in mind for your royal consort; your best friend and confidant; James Buchannan “Bucky” Barnes.

 Ever since you were children, the pair of you had been close. Bucky had trained to be in the knights and worked his way up from page to sergeant. He had taught you to wield a sword and ride a horse. Whenever you had dance lessons, you requested him as your partner. Every chance either of you had, you used it to be with each other. After he had lost his arm in the war, you spent every second you could by his side and went as far as to resource a mechanical one for him so he could resume his position.

 When your mother had announced that she was holding a royal ball with the sole purpose of you choosing a husband, there was no doubt in your mind who would be your choice by the end of the night.

The night of the ball had finally arrived, the night you had been partly dreading. It wasn’t that you hated these kinds of events per say, it was just that they were full of the same tedious characters you forced to mingle with. There were the clout chasers who were more interested in being seen with you than anything you actually had to say. Then there were the old blowhards who believed you should be seen, not heard and be grateful whatever man was chosen for you. In those cases you would oh so politely remind them that’s not the way your mother did it and you wouldn’t stand for it either.

 One of the things you did enjoy about these formal gatherings is seeing everyone in their finery. Fabrics shimmered and flashed and jewellery sparkled in the light. There was a certain magic about it, especially tonight with everyone wearing masks. Despite the fact their faces were hidden, it was easy to spot who was whom.

 Surrounded by a group of women was the inventor from the noble house of Stark. He was dressed in a metallic costume of gold and red, possibly one of his own creations.

 Then there was Countess Natasha Romanoff. Her dress was obsidian save for the silver stitching which was woven throughout the fabric like spider-webs. In her hand was a plain black mask on a stick which had the symbol of a red hourglass.

 You spotted one of the Asgardian princes in an emerald and gold costume with a feathered raven mask. He was speaking to Lady Wanda Maximoff. Her scarlet gown billowed around her like smoke, a lace butterfly mask daintily perched upon her face.

 You could see the Wakandan king in a traditionally carved African mask in the shape of a panther. He was wearing all black although there was something unusual about the fabric in the way it shimmered purple under the light.

 Throughout the night, you danced with many eligible bachelors. Some were sweet and genuine, others you found utterly droll but the one person you wanted to dance with eluded you.

 Eventually, you managed to sneak away to the veranda to steal a few minutes alone to yourself. You were enjoying the cool night air when you heard a voice behind you.

 “I thought I might find you here, princess.”

 Smiling, you turned around to face the person you had been longing to see all night. Bucky was clothed in all white with silver trimming, complete with a white wolf mask. You thought he looked rather dashing.

 “It was starting to get quite stuffy in there...”

 “Indeed,” he said, joining you and placing his hands on the veranda railing, his gloved fingers brushing against yours. “Have you danced with many tonight?”

 “Too many to count... none of them have reached my standards.”

 “You must have pretty high standards...”

 “That I do... in fact, I have already made my choice in who I want to make my consort.”

 “Is that so?”

 “It is... you may already know him. He’s tall, handsome, has beautiful blue eyes, he’s in the knights...”

 “I see... well I wish you and Steve a long and happy life together.” You playfully nudged him.

 “I think we both know who I’m referring to...”

 “I think I do too... but I’m afraid to let myself hope...” When Bucky heard you were supposed to be choosing the man you were going to marry, it broke his heart.

 “Then how about a dance?”

 “Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you?”

 “Do you want to dance with me or not?”

 “Yes, your highness,” his voice had a playful lilt to it. He offered his arm to you and escorted you to the ballroom floor as the music began.

 As you glided across the floor with Bucky, it felt like you were the only two people in the room amidst the swirling colours and glittering lights. There was no denying it. You were totally and hopelessly in love with each other. When the song ended, your lips moved closer to his but a voice interrupted you.

 “May I have this next dance, princess?” You turned to see a stranger fully clad in black with red tentacles embellished on the shirt and a mask in the form of a red skull. There was something about this man that sent chills down your spine, however, it was your duty to dance with every gentleman who asked. You knew almost everyone at this party but you couldn’t place him. He was clearly skilled at the waltz but his grip was tight and hurting you. Bucky watched his every move and stayed close by just in case.

 “I have been very anxious to meet you princess...”

 It all happened so fast. The stranger pulled a knife concealed in his belt and brought it down towards your heart. Bucky quickly ran over, managing to push you away and put himself between you and the assailant. The knife let out a sickening clink as it got stuck in the panels of Bucky’s arm. All you could do was stand there in shock, the palace guards rushing over to apprehend the attacker. The man tried to get away and in the scuffle, his mask clattered to the ground revealing his identity. It was Johan Schmitt, an enemy to the royal family and leader to a group of rebels. He screamed profanities and antiroyalist speech as he was dragged away to the dungeons to be dealt with later.

 “Are you alright, princess? Did he harm you at all?” a nearby servant asked. You shakily showed your bruised wrist and they ushered you to a doctor. You turned back to see Steve helping Bucky remove the knife from his shoulder.

 From that point on, the party was well and truly over.

...

 The following day, the palace was abuzz with gossip about the events that unfolded at the ball. There was only one thing on your mind. You went to your mother to let her know your decision.

 “Mother, I have made my choice... I want Sir James Buchannan Barnes as my consort.”

 “Are you sure you don’t have false feelings because he saved your life last night?”

 “No, Mother. I have been in love with Sir James since I was a teenager. He has proven himself worthy to be my partner time and time again, not just to me but to the kingdom. He is a knight of high status and by our laws; he is eligible for my hand. Nothing you can say or do will change my mind.”

 “This is your final answer?”

 “Yes, Mother.”

 “Then it is decided. I will make the appropriate arrangements. You may go.” You couldn’t stop smiling, having to stop yourself from running through the halls to go tell Bucky the good news.

 In the months that followed, you and Bucky were finally married. You finally got the man of your dreams and Bucky got the princess of his.

[lilacerull0]

LITTLE WOMEN FANFICTION

CHAPTER 3: SEVEN

Escapism

"Please, picture me in the trees...

...before I learned civility."

- seven, Taylor Swift

***

one.

- Let's run away.

It's barely a whisper. It's said more to the open sky above them than to anybody else.

- Let's run away.

It's more than a whisper now. It's a call. An invitation for something greater than both of them. And Laurie would gladly buy a ticket for that particular train. He would. But the sun is so wonderful and the clouds are so enchanting in their unusual shapes that even getting up seems like a chore. He wants to stay here. On the grass. But Jo is persistent in her wishes. Jo March never, never, gives up.

- Won't you say something, Teddy? Can't you just see it? We could be anything, do anything, go anywhere! The world could be ours!

She, unlike him, is on her feet. She always seems to be. Gravity isn't very fond of Jo. Or at least that's what Jo will tell you. Laurie doesn't know if that's true or not, but he likes hearing her talk. He finds himself generally attached to sounds. The chipering of birds. The first note you play on the piano. Amy's chaotic laughter. Beth's soft chuckles. Meg's little mumbles. Jo's wild exclaims. That's one of the many reasons why Laurie loves the Marches. It's like these sisters have discovered an utterly fresh, vivid and extraordinary way to be alive. It's a pleasant contrast to what he's used to.

It's always quiet at home.

"What do you say Theodore Laurence, kindest and most noble of knights of this kingdom? Shall we follow the wind and see where it leads us?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Then you accept my proposal?"

"I sure do, Miss March."

People's faces usually look radically different when lightened up with smiles. They look prettier, more beautiful and somehow truer to themselves as opposed to non smiling faces. Jo's doesn't. She is smiling at him right now and her face doesn't look any different. It's just as true and warm as it was a thousand smiles before. And would Laurie even be allowed to call himself a comrade of Jo's if he didn't gift her with a smile of his own in return? He grins at her with no specific thought behind the expression. This is how people are supposed to be smiling, he thinks. Wide and real. Yes, people are supposed to be smiling just like this.

For a second, Jo and Laurie are the same person. Hair wild, shirts half unbuttoned, cheeks flushed. Laurie's hands are splattered with dirt from the ground whose hostility he was taking advantage of moments prior. Jo doesn't seem to care about that. Once he's up and standing, she grabs his arm a bit forcefully (which he doesn't mind), a bit theatrically (because this is Jo and life is a theatre piece) and they start running, both of them now embellished with dust. There's a lot of stumbling (and stumbling is blamed on the seemingly nonexistent objects that appear and disappear under commands of fairy like creatures) and there's a lot of laughter (laughter that comes in its most natural form and doesn't show any interest in being contained under anyone's wishes, especially not the ones of the world).

"Oh dearest, the world might not be for us, but us we are for the world."

***

two.

Freedom is both the most basic and the most complicated aspect of life to be gained. It is so simple of a concept, one could easily and rightfully so believe how all of thought guardians (more commonly referred to as humans) should have the right to not only experience, but spend their entire lives swimming in shinning lakes of freedom. But it's not how it all works. Some have tiny bits of freedom. Some don't have it at all. Some have loads. Some have just enough. Too much, sadly or sadly not, have none. 

Jo sometimes wishes she were a tree. High up in the sky, stretching out her branches towards infinity. She isn't a tree though.

Imagination is of grave help despite what anyone says. To a normal person, the tree is just a tree. Tree and nothing else. To Jo March, a tree is so much more. It's an opportunity. An adventure. It's a solace and a home. A sanctuary. She's climbing up one of her leaf providing friends as she's trying to figure out how to describe this moment the best. Her reflections are interrupted by a voice which surprisingly doesn't come from the bellow, but from the above instead. Once Jo spots the speaker's ground conquerors (or "shoes" if you are of dull old sameness and don't find the pleasure in crafting phrases unlike our Jo), she immediately recognizes their owner. She still isn't sure why Teddy let Amy paint his shoes with images of flowers, but she is mesmerized with the final result. And although she shall never share this with the oh, so great artist, Jo thinks Amy's creations to be exquisite.

"I presume you are coming here to put your mind at ease."

"That is correct, my boy, and I suppose you are here for the same cause. "

By the time they exchange these lines, Jo has already climbed up to the place where Laurie is. She finds herself a steady enough branch and rests her head against the surface of the wood. Her friend is positioned in a similar way, his leg gently swaying to a peculiar beat of his own making.

Two figures, who almost seem to be one with the wooden fellow, occasionally take an exceptionally deep breath. Their hands colored with bruises, souvenirs from many extraordinary expeditions, their clothes decorated with leaves. Seemingly they are flowers, nature is their most beloved companion.

It's quite a story how Jo and Teddy, these flower resembling humans, coexist without many syllables shared. The phrases they do sometimes grace each other with can end up being translated as meaningless or lacking in thought. But Teddy and Jo, among everything else, are inventors. They invented a language which only functions for them. What is mean to others represents to them a code. What is strange to some, playful and witty to them it is. What is impossible to comprehend, they understand with little to no effort.

"Language of flowers is the language of flowers for a reason. Nobody, but flowers, thinks it much sense."

***

three.

"I'M ALIVE! LOOK AT ME, EARTH!!! I! AM! BREATHING!"

This is just one of the many declarations that have furiously been shouted at the void today. Young people often have trouble befriending compromises, especially if those compromises are to be made with the creatures you live in close proximity with. Jo has again been fighting with her sisters for reasons she cannot exactly recall right this instant. It's funny, because this always happens to her. Something sparks her temper, she recklessly gives into it and at the end, it's all about the anger she doesn't know how to release. She usually goes on long walks or takes deep breaths. She basically tries to isolate herself from everyone until the storm passes.

Teddy has a different solution for her troubles, troubles that naturally turn out to be his troubles too because they are Jo and Teddy, Teddy and Jo, and they have the same troubles (which is both wonderfully relieving and awfully annoying at the same time). Jo wouldn't even call Teddy's solution a solution. They are both making these announcements of nonhuman frequency and dancing their heads off, and as ridiculous as it is, Jo feels it liberating. They aren't improving anything (just the opposite, screaming random things into the air represents the peak of impulsive behaviour) and the conclusion is: no profitable discoveries in the "containing yourself" department. But who cares? Sometimes you have to let it all out. Dance and shout the worries away. It wasn't a coincidence that Jo met Teddy under the circumstances that she did. They were both of hot tempers, strong wills and free spirits. And they needed to dance it all out out. Despite the absurdity and inappropriate mannerism a foreign eye would most certainly find in their actions.

"There exists no right nor wrong way to express one's self."

***

four.

Laurie is surprised with how much he is enjoying this. It's all very simple. Yet, he feels at peace. He feels like everything inside him has a chance to rest.

It's the fireplace and captivating movement of the fire flames.

It's the soft "click" he discovers every time Meg takes a step. Her shoes are marvellous singers.

It's the chattering of dishes he recognizes somewhere in the background. It must be Beth, cleaning the table after the meal.

It's Amy giggling mischievously after coming up with what Laurie supposes to be some kind of scheme or more accurately, a master plan. He wouldn't know what is it about, but whatever it is, Amy is destined to succeed in it.

It's Jo. This is all because of Jo. He wouldn't have come across the hidden delights of the "uncomplicated" and "boring" if it weren't for her. She takes a seat beside him interrupting the spectacular date he had with the fireplace, rests her head on his shoulder and sighs. It's like this with them. Touching has never been a big deal.

"Beautiful."

That's all Jo says. "Beautiful." He doesn't question it. He understands what she means even though he cannot explain it. He understands.

"Warmth. Choreographed chaos. Lines overlapping. Minds intertwining. Familiarity greeting you "hello". People. Family. Home."

***

five.

She cut her hair. She cut her hair and everything is supposed to be at least a little better if not completely fine. But she can feel the tears forming in her eyes as she's approaching the house. The money in her pocket is so incredibly present. No, the money is not just present in her pocket. Everything those dusty pieces of paper represent carries weight. A weight so grand Jo could swear there is somebody following her, kind of like the money has taken the shape of a person and is now accompanying her, monitoring her every move. What kind of world sees a green, ugly paper and claims of it a metaphor for greatest treasures? And the tears? The tears she cannot comprehend. Why would she care? It's just hair. If anything, she should be bursting with joy right now. She got rid of the womanly burden. But it doesn't feel right. It's all extremely selfish of her. Selfish and thoughtless.

Her sister is... not well. Her father is out there doing all sorts of heroic things and instead of crying over her sins, she's crying over this. For once she does something right, for once the part of her that's wrong different isn't screaming. And then it hits her. It's not just a part of her that's different wrong. It's her. The moment she realises this she steps into the house. Everyone is either too distant or too close to notice all that is hiding underneath her seemingly admirable actions.

Her body is barely handling the atmosphere. It's barely cultivating the facade. But her body is also covered with Teddy's waistcoat and just as she remembers this little fact she sees her best friend right there in front of her. He is not too distant nor too close. He is right where she is.

They have the same hair.

Jo is pulled towards him because this is Teddy and hugging Teddy is like hugging herself. They stay like that for a few moments, their realities greeting each other like two fellow soldiers, finally reunited in battle.

It doesn't make her feel any less hollow. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't alter the wrongs. But it does make it a little better. It offers an assurance. An assurance embodying validity so present, money can do nothing but hold a candle to. An assurance of rational absurdity. Because that's what Jo and Teddy are.

They are rationally absurd.

"It's a childish belief that all twins look the same. There exist many ways to be somebody's twin."

***

six.

She is holding his hand.

He has just told her how he doesn't fit within himself. He has just told her that and she is still here, laying on the floor with him, covered with blankets. She said it made sense. She must have been too tired or something. She must have misheard. She must have.

"Jo, are you there?"

She does not respond. She only squeezes his hand. It's not about the gesture itself. It's about everything the gesture holds.

Promises. Lifetimes. Daylights. Midnights. Setting suns. Growing spirits. Flowery Youths.

She is holding his hand.

" Mutuality sure is a wonderful creation. What is more wonderful though is mutual understanding. Mutuality means the returning of the same. Mutual understanding means accepting and loving of the different."

***

seven.

"I could run away for real this time. Explore the unknown, unravel the mystical. Encounter the miracles. Touch the heavens..."

Her words are empty. They don't mean much. They are empty and desperate. Empty, desperate and meaningless.

Her sister got married. Meg got married and she is talking to herself about running away. The wind is dancing with her again long enough hair, tangling its fingers into her rough curls, reminding her of the countless times it has done the exact same thing before. Mocking her with its endless supplies of stability and comfort. Jo is leaning over the wooden fence, despite the wishes of her dress which keeps complaining about her unlady like methods. Jo honestly does not care about the fancy bridesmaid dress and its wants. If one has the will to climb fences, one shall enjoy the act of doing so, no matter what some piece of fabric might have to say. She is trying to hold back rivers her eyes miserably wish to let flow. She cannot cry. She must not. She has an ongoing bet with Teddy about this. He was daring enough to assume she will turn herself into a paddle today and she ought to prove him wrong.

"What might a lady like yourself be doing here instead of enjoying the jolly ceremony out there in the open?"

"I am no lady Teddy, my being is in no need of such chains."

Laurie doesn't pressure her into answering the question (she would have answered it in the first place if she had the intention to) and steps on the fence beside her. He starts humming a random melody, rhythmically moving his fingers to the sound.  He must be composing something again, thinks Jo and silently envies his creative range. It's been too long since she's written anything worth sharing.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Everything."

"Isn't that a bit too much of things?"

"Oh, it's just a little over the top Teddy, but I believe I can handle it. This mind is no stranger to overcrowding."

The same tree they used to climb when they were younger is now observing them, representing an eternal and haunting reminder of everything that once was. Jo is frightened. That silent way in which Teddy is looking at her is frightening. He is looking at her in ways she longs for to be different and his eyes have too many freshly discovered stories to tell. She is frightened she won't find those stories to be very pleasant.

"Do you remember that day when I told you how I wanted to run away?"

"How could I not?"

"I need to run away again."

Laurie doesn't need to hear it twice. He jumps over the fence and starts running, his arms widely spread, his tie and jacket long forgotten. It isn't real. Jo knows they will never go anywhere. The sun is setting and the lines of separation are clearing up. The sun is setting and challenges, struggles and complications lie ahead. She knows all of this. Yet, she hikes up her skirts like she's sixteen again and follows the path her boy has chosen for as long as she knows how to. Jo and Teddy run through the endless fields of gold, specks of sunlight meeting their bones. Teddy and Jo, Jo and Teddy, high in the sky for one last time before nightfall.

They keep falling over each other and eventually end up wrestling on the grass, occasional screams and consistent laughter adorning the air around them.

The last song of Meg's shoes. The last symbol Amy will ever paint on Jo's hands. The last wide smile of Beth's. The last understood conversation of birds. The last fellow of the trees. The last arrangement of flowers.

The last.

The last.

The last.

"Oh, to live in a world where there are childhoods, fields of gold and raging hearts."

"Grab a coat, leave a note and run away with me."

- William Chapman

[sol1056]

wuxia/xianxia: a loose and somewhat second-hand introduction to the genre, pt1

Sorry for the unconventional q, but i keep seeing Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation everywhere and I kinda want to get into it but a) don't know where to start (web series? live action adaptation?? wait how many are there!) and b) i don't really "get" wuxia / xianxia, that sorta stuff, i find it really hard to cross that cultural barrier and chinese mentality seems very alien. (it's not that i have no experience w different mentalities but chinese in particular is v hard to grasp w/o sources).

So if you have the time and patience, I'd love to hear a summary of it (like, a coherent summary bc all i get on the wikis is a shower of names and concepts that don't make sense to me) and perhaps some "intro for dummies" abt the relevant parts of chinese history and mentality tied to it? not just the cultivation / buddhist part but also re: familial relationships, philosophy and all that. (v brief and low effort of course) Thank you and sorry for bothering you!

("brief and low effort" referring to what I'm asking from you, not to what I need for me - as in i asked for it so i'm more than ready for a complicated essay, but you can write with as much detail as you like, I don't want to ask for some sort of comprehensive tome)

Okay first, you do realize that if you want “brief and low” for anything, you’re asking the wrong person? I was a philosophy major. brief got drilled out of me a long time ago. 

Second... well, explaining what makes The Untamed / Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (mdzs for short, from the chinese title, Mo Dao Zu Shi) such a standout story does require understanding some of the wuxia conventions it subverts -- as well as some that it plays straight (so to speak) very, very well. 

I figure the best approach (again, sadly not brief) is to first get a handle on the genre of wuxia. Gonna break this post into two, so you’re not reading in a single three-hour stretch or something. I’ll do a follow-up about mdzs, to hopefully make it a bit more accessible for you. 

before I do that, let me first say: I didn’t grow up with this genre, so there’s going to be parts that I may miscast unintentionally. for an insider’s view, my go-to voices are @guzhuangheaven, @atthewaterside, @dramatic-gwynne, @the50-person and @drunkensword. if any of them are reading this and can point to more/other/better voices, please do.

I have three analogies -- like cultural doorways --  and like all analogies, they break down when you get into the finer details. In the broad strokes, though, they mostly work, and if nothing else, hopefully they’ll demonstrate that wuxia may be a chinese-specific version, but part of a storytelling tradition that’s nearly universal.

The three doorways are: the american wild west, the samurai era, and the british arthurian romances. And, in a tangential way, the regency period in the romance genre. 

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- 

The term ‘wuxia’ can be translated several ways, but I prefer ‘martial chivalry’. Most wuxia takes place in the jianghu, a harder term to unpack. Generally, though, ‘the jianghu’ has connotations not all that different from what americans mean when they reference the wild west. 

More of a concept than a physical place, the jianghu (like the ‘wild’ west) exists beyond the reach of the law and/or civilization. It’s occupied by a diverse cast of farmers, merchants, beggars, and so on, but also by outlaws, gangs, hermits, pretty much all those who don’t like the suffocating nature of the civilized world, for whatever reason. It’s not a lawless place (except to outsiders); it does have laws, but those are only unto itself. 

So, jianghu is a world to itself, for the most part -- which also makes it kind of timeless. Tang dynasty, Song dynasty, Ming dynasty, it could be any of them and all of them and none of them. Just as the heyday of the cowboys and the cattle drives was barely a decade long, a culture’s romanticized history stretches into lifetimes that exist separate from any date you could pin down on a calendar. 

The average wuxia protagonist would fit in reasonably well as knight errants in an arthurian romance, with one important detail in difference: they’re rarely aristocrats. Wuxia protagonists are just as likely (if not more so) to be lower-born, whether the child of farmers, or servants, some common caste. 

This is where wuxia diverges from the british and japanese traditions, which have a bit more noblesse oblige going on (knights and samurai both being upper-class types). Even ‘aristocratic’ characters tend to be so only within the jianghu -- sort of like the way a territory’s elected leader in the wild west would’ve had no pull in Washington, given they weren’t from a fully-recognized state. 

Wuxia does often have politics, between competing sects (think schools of learning), but that political infighting is independent of the capital’s rules or wishes. A lot of stories -- in the rare cases the topic even comes up -- tends to speak of ‘the capital’ in disparaging terms. 

That’s not to say wuxia is all about the flat social systems (it’s definitely not), but most commonly a rank implies some level of competence/study. The title of sect leader isn’t granted, it's earned. Children inherit, but it’s also a common storyline to have an heir with no skills (who then goes through all the trials and tribulations to finally level up and earn that position in turn).

What makes wuxia hard to grasp is its vernacular: the conventions that form the backbone that make something recognizably ‘wuxia’ and not just ‘historical drama set on a frontier in a loosely-defined time period’. 

Frex: in a Wild West story, convention is two gunfighters at opposite ends of the street, and at least one of them is wearing a holster tied to his leg with string in a way that no real gunfighter wore, ever, but Hollywood came up with the idea and now it’s a permanent part of our imagination. In the arthurian romances,  convention is carrying the token of one’s lady love (a distant, untouchable figure who rarely appears on-page), or meeting the unnamed knight in black on the jousting field. Convention are the samurai who’ll die for their lord’s honor, always touchy and prickly at the first sign of disrespect. 

These are things granted the most remarkable gravity, that to an outsider might seem ridiculous. (Why is there always tumbleweed?) 

Now, wuxia is the latest evolution in a long-lived literary tradition (and by ‘long’ I mean like 2000+ years) -- but like any living tradition, each subsequent generation reinvents it for their time. Part of that reinvention comes from particularly influential writers, who put their own spin on things, and their interpretation becomes the next generation’s standard for the genre -- “of course wuxia must have X” or “a protagonist never does Y”. (Like how Tolkien almost single-handedly changed western concepts of elves, in fiction.)

And here’s where I explain what regency romance has to do with it. Another short-lived period, in real history, but along came Georgette Heyer, who took bits and pieces of actual research, blended them with her reactionary politics, exaggerating some things and ignoring other things completely. The result is a time-that-never-was, but she cast (and still casts) a shadow so vast that I’ve seen multiple romance writers complain that readers will see a footnoted-and-researched version as wrong, if it contradicts one of Heyer’s made-up conventions. 

Modern wuxia has its own Heyer-sized influencers -- like Jin Yong (the Condor trilogy, Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils), Wen Rui'an (The Four), Gu Long (The Legend of Flying Daggers, The Proud Twins), to name a few of the biggest. If you have a chance or are inclined, the big names get remade on a pretty regular basis, and catching one will at least let you see some ur-tropes in action. 

But it also means that you can’t really extrapolate, in the sense of saying, “in wuxia, people do X, ergo, X is also a factor in Chinese culture.” It’s like... take any western made in the 50s, and the vernacular is simple. The bad guys wear black hats, the good guys wear white hats, the prostitutes wear bright-colored dresses with frills and the good women wear subdued colors buttoned up to their neck. It told an audience exactly what character filled what role, but that’d tell you zero about real people you might meet in Nebraska or Utah, let alone New York City. 

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- 

Almost forgot: xianxia is basically wuxia but with ‘immortal heroes’ -- so there’s gods, divine influences, non-human beings as characters (main or NPC), etc. (Btw, by ‘immortal’ I mean exactly that, like this character is six hundred years old, that one’s a thousand years old, etc.) You can think of xianxia as wuxia, but amped way up on the mystical scale. 

Xianxia will sometimes take place on earth (jianghu) but sometimes in the celestial realm (heaven). Or a mix of both, like stories where a character falls (or is banished, or defects) from heaven and has to go through various trials and tribulations as a mortal human in order to regain a power, rise in rank, fall in love, or whatever their goal is. 

A number of wuxia stories are driven by some sort of mcguffin, but in xianxia, the mcguffin is more likely to be a powerful spiritual weapon. But I can also think of a number of wuxia in which the mcguffin would fit right in, in xianxia (some near-mystical thing with significant positive, or negative, power independent of the wielder, which often amplifies or boosts the wielder to an inhuman degree, etc). 

Thing is, the mcguffin being divine/infernal supernatural isn’t enough alone to make the story xianxia. I’m pretty sure you need non-human or super-human immortals and/or creatures to be considered in the xianxia genre. 

part two

[dachi-chan25]

Haven't done this in a while but I had the time so why not?

1.- Pizza Girl by Kyoung Jean Frazier

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I really did like it, reminded me a lot of "Convinience store woman". Like clearly our protagonist needed thrapy ASAP to help her deal with her dad's death, her pregnancy, her attraction to women and hell just for existing as an Asian woman in the USA, but I liked how messy and obsesive she was and how the author allowed her to be fucked up and take bad decisions, I love to see female characters simply exist, it's also a pretty short read so I definitely recommend it.

2.-The Authentics by Abdi Nazemian

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Daría is a persian teen who is really involved in her cultural background and feels that the most important thing one can be is authentic, so that's the name she and her friends take for their clique. But everything comes crashing down on her when she discovers she is adopted, and soon follows an identity crisis. I loved it so much, it felt pretty realistic, like Daría could be self absorbed and unlikeable at times, but who wasn't as a teen? And we get such beautiful heartwarming moments between Daría and her family and friends. Totally recommend it.

3.- The Mall by Megan McCafferty

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Cassie has her life completely mapped out but nothing goes quite as planned, first she gets mononucleosis and after she gets better gets dumped and fired almost simultaneously. Determined not to let it get the best of her, Cassie gets a brand new job, reconnects with an old friend and even finds a hidden treasure. This one is so much fun, all the 90s references and the growth Cassie goes through is amazing, honeslty i would love to see this as a Netflix movie.

4.- Luster by Raven Leilani

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This book was hard, Edie is a very raw character, at first she seems flippant even when describing disturbing facts about her past or details about her relationship with a much older man she seems to be talking about something that happened to someone else all this to cope dealing with her solitude, her trauma, her self hate. And gosh it was so intresting to see her interact with Rebecca and Akila, especially Akila as Edie finds kinship in this young girl not only cuz they are both black but because they are both lost and afraid.

5.- Lakewood by Megan Giddings

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Lena decides to participate on a financially compensated medical experiment so her mom can get proper medical care and to lessen their debts after her Grandmother's death.

So I had many mixed feelings about this, on one hand I liked that we are adressing how sistematical racism has permited experiments on black people with no consequences at all and how it has been happening for decades, but there were certain parts of the book that I couldn't enjoy as much because they were very trippy like I get we are on Lena's mind as things are becoming muddled up because of the medications and all those mind games and the words they have her memorize and repeat but all of it took me a bit away from the story. Still I do recommend it just be aware there is quite a bit of body horror in this so if you are sqeamish better skip it.

6.-The Voting Booth - Brandy Colbert

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Marva and Duke meet on election day as she helps him find the precint he is registered on.

This is very enjoyable, the story is very straightforward, and it insists on our right and responsability to vote even if we feel our vote alone can't possibly change all the injustice we see in the world. And also the romance was cute and developed slowly as Marva and Duke are just knowing each other. Really cute and quick read.

7.- Such a fun age - Kiley Reid

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Emira works as a babysitter for the Chamberleins' . She loves her little charge Briar, although she feels preassured to seek a 'real job' by her friends and by her own economic troubles. Emira soon finds herself in the middle of a tug of war between her boss Alix who tries to befriend her, and Kelley the guy she is dating.

So much drama. This is a great example of what performative activism looks like, first Alix is completely nuts, from her obsession to be seen as this wonderful understanding girl boss activist and the down right creepy sense of entitlement to Emira's friendship and intimacy. Like it doesn't surprise me she chose to victimize herself instead of recognizing it had all been a misunderstanding. And even then she still wants to seem atractive to the man she feels victimized by. Girl no.

Kelley is the ultimate fake woke ally. Dude Robbie was wrong period, he had no business inviting people over to someone else's house no matter the color of his skin. You don't get to talk over Emira on matters of what a person of color should do or feel on certain situations. That said it was so funny when he and Alix called each other out for their fetishization of people of color and yet none of them actually gave a damn about what Emira thought/felt/percieved. They just wanted her stamp of approval so they could pat themselves in the back for being such good allies.

8.- The Life and (Medieval) times of Kit Sweetly by Jamie Pacton

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Kit is working as a serving wench at the Castle, medieval themed restaurant run by her uncle, though she really wants to be a Knight, not only cuz the better pay would help around the house but because she really admires Joan of Arc, problem is the Castle management doesn't allow for anyone who is not a cis male to be a knight. Kit is set on changing that.

Ok so I feel a bit lukewarm toward this. Kit in my opinion doesn't get much growth, it seems she just can do whatever and her friends have to be ok w it, her romance w her friend feels pulled out of nowhere like Jett at one point tells her he is not intrested in dating her and then he is ???, those GoT references killed me, I get it I watched the show and sometimes even enjoyed it but it's not representative of anything medieval and Kit was always talking about how much she liked the actual history of the medieval times so...

Also as much as this book was about feminism and how we should fight for equal job oportunities, it feels as though Kit only cared about medieval woman who fought physically and not on the badass medieval woman, like idk it feels as a rejection of tradicional feminity like even the girl playing the Princess is a jerk. But I did like some parts, like her decision to confront her asshole dad to help her mom and the girls training together.

9.-Cien años de soledad de Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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En Macondo, una población Colombiana a un lado del río, vemos como una de sus familias fundadoras crece, se expande y cambia a través de cien años.

Me encanto, hace mucho tiempo que no leía una novela de realismo mágico que me provocará tantos sentimientos. Creo que todos los personajes reflejan aspectos de la humanidad tan diversos y complejos que sería inútil tratar de enlistarlos todos.

Ultimadamente siento que lo que condenó a la familia Buendia a cumplir las profecías de Melquiades fue sus propia naturaleza que ellos nunca tuvieron intención de pelear, siempre sucumbian a las locuras o pasiones que los inundarán sin mesura alguna o consideración por las consecuencias. Y creo que aún así lo prefiero pues es lo que hace a cada personaje por confuso que a veces llegue a ser la repetición de nombres (que para mi es el simbolismo de una naturaleza y destino continuos) único e intrigante. En verdad espero que se den la oportunidad de leer este libro por lo menos una vez en sus vidas.

10.-The Monsters of music by Rebecca F. Kenney

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This is a gender-swaped modern retelling of the Phantom of the Opera.

It was creative to make Mel, our Phantom, a true magical creature, and the singing contest was also cool. Like don't get me wrong I did have fun reading this but it also felt pretty unpolished like most characters were teens on the contest and that kinda made me roll my eyes a bit, like unless it's the Voice Kids age ranges are quite ample on this kind of shows, also kinda clumsy the addition of the magical elements with the modern setting, Kiyo didn't make much of an impression with me even when Christine is my fave on the original book. Still if you are a Phan like me you might wanna check this one out.

11.- Anna K by Jenny Lee

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This is a modern americanized ya retelling of Anna Karenina.

Not gonna lie this made me cry so much at the end. I really liked Anna and Vronski together so much, and I don't like the love at first sight trope, but here it felt so inevitable. Anna was so self contained until she met him and could truly explore being herself and they really loved each other so much. Also I liked the treatment of the side characters Kimmie and Dustin were well developed and I really enjoyed this one can't wait to get to the second book.

12.- Wonderland by Zoje Stage

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It was ok, but I was actually a bit disappointed cuz I had such high expectations for it. Like for about half the book I was really into the atmospheric vibe the book pulls you into, but as we get the reveal it started to go down hill for me, and the ending left me feeling meh. But maybe it was just not my cup of tea.

13.-Home Before Dark by Riley Sager

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This book is so well crafted!!! I love how it goes back and forth between past and present , first it feels as if history is repeating itself, then as both narratives unfold we start to question and discovering things and the twist at the end was chillin and masterful, I truly and wholeheartedly recommend it.

14.- The Girl with the louding voice by Abi Daré

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Adunni, a teenage girl, flees from her husband to work as a maid in Lagos, though everything she has ever wanted is to study.

This broke my heart, as it reflects how people coming from rural backgrounds get taken advantage of in the City, like similar things happen here in Mexico, but also it made me glad to see Adunni fight and keep her spirit so no one could ever silence her.

15.- The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson

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Immanuel does her very best to fit in Bethel, follow the scriptures and the Prophets words, but nothing seems to be enough to erase her mother's sin especially when the Darkwood seems to pull her in. As a plague starts to ravage Bethel, Immanuel has to face her past to save her people.

So frickin' good !!!! This story is great, mainly about the explotation of woman and young girls by people in power (in this case a church), the atmosphere is always tense, Ezra and Immanuel 's relationship is very well developed and one can really see how loyal they are to each other. A great option for horror fans.

[blackcloverdatabase]

English Translation of Novel 3: Chapter 3 – The Sun Doesn’t Set For Troubled Women (Part 1 of 2)

Here’s the rom-com chapter from Book of Yuno! Apparently, there’s a holiday called Three Leaf Day in Clover Kingdom. Because of this, Bell, Noelle, and Charlotte are looking for a gift for their special someones. Get ready for a wild a ride. This is one disastrous trio.  

--- The Sun Doesn’t Set For Troubled Women: Part 1 ---

Three-Leaf Day.

Each leaf of the three-leaf clover has meaning attached to it: good faith, hope, and love. Three-Leaf Day is a special day which comes only once a year, where you a give a gift to someone in return for giving you at least one of these three things. That day is today. Thus, all the townspeople of every town were talking excitedly about to whom and what they were planning to give, and shopkeepers have been inviting customers to their stores with more enthusiasm than ever. It was a day which livened up the whole town…… no, the whole country.

However, among all this,

���Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm~~~~~~~~~~~”

Just before noon, in a corner of the shopping district of the royal capital, Bell let out a groan. She couldn’t decide on a present for Yuno.  She had wanted to prepare a gift for him earlier, but she and Yuno had been taking care of Gram (Julius’s pet pig) until just the other day, and then Mereoleona took them on a tour to that power spot (which was not a tour at all; they were coerced into capturing a dungeon). Anytime they had outside of Mereoleona’s unlawful abduction or being forced along with someone else’s schemes was spent training for the Royal Knights Selection Exam, so Bell didn’t have the time to go out into the city before today.

Finally finding the time to go, Bell came to the shopping district with the pocket money she had been saving up for a very long time now, but…… she couldn’t quite decide what to buy.

“……Huh? Aren’t you that wind spirit who’s always with Yuno? Bell, was it……?”

While she was looking in distress at the clothing showcased at the front of the store, Bell heard a voice call out to her from the side. When she turned to see who it was, she saw a girl with beautifully long, straight silver hair wearing big, black-rimmed glasses.

‘I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before……,’ Bell thought to herself. Then, looking as if she had just remembered something, the silver-haired girl gasped and suddenly turned around.

“S-sorry. I mistook you for someone else!”

“No, you’re not wrong, and how would you mistake someone my size for someone else, anyway? ……AH!”

Realizing where she had seen her face before, Bell circled around toward the front of the silver-haired girl and yanked her glasses from her face.

“Ah, hey! Return those at onc-

“…I knew it! You were at Mereoleona’s hot spring camp, right?

Generally speaking, Bell had no interest in anyone other than Yuno and herself, so she wasn’t very good at remembering the names and faces of other people. However, this girl left a bit of an impression on Bell since she often saw her with her detestable rival…… Asta.

‘If I recall, this girl’s name is…...’

“Your name was…… Noelle, right? Your hairstyle looks different today, but you’re Noelle, aren’t you?”

“!!”

Upon hearing her name called by Bell, the silver-haired girl, AKA Noelle, became visibly agitated as she opened and closed her mouth again, until finally, with a face so red that it reached her ears, she screamed,

“Y-y-you’re mistaken! It’s not like I…… came here to buy a present for Asta or anything!!”

“I haven’t said anything, though?”

“I-I was just shopping for myself, and…… I thought that, while I was here, maybe I should look around a bit for a gift, but I didn’t come here with that intention!! So don’t say anything weird!!

“Like I said, I never said anything!”

“……Huh!?”

There, Noelle came to her senses and looked around at her surroundings. The people around them had stopped in their tracks, staring at her in surprise. It was only natural. After all, she screamed so loudly in the middle of town. Bell scratched her cheek awkwardly as she said,

“…...Umm, a-anyway, how about we get out of here?”

Unusually for her, she actually read the mood of this place.

 “I-I’m telling the truth! I’m just giving him a gift out of courtesy, like during Valentine’s Day**!”

“Jeez~, I get it, okay? You’re so stubborn!”

After their escape, Bell and Noelle talked as they walked through the city. Her full name was Noelle Silva, member of the Black Bulls. She was cursing her blunder from earlier. Today, she was planning to buy a gift for Asta incognito. She even bothered putting on a light disguise, and she has been wandering about through town since early this morning. However, she was surprised when she saw that Bell was also there, and so she talked to her without thinking. Having exposed her own identity and ever her purpose for coming here, she was just about ready to blow a fuse.

“Also, don’t tell anyone about today……”

And now, she was walking with Bell, trying to convince her to keep her secret…… or rather, she was just trying to correct her misunderstanding. That’s all.

“Sure, whatever.”

Bell sighed before continuing,

“…...You know, I don’t think there’s any reason for you to be embarrassed about giving something to someone important to you. If anything, I think that’s a very lovely thing to do.”

“H-he’s not that important to me!”

“You’re more trouble than I thought…… Then, I’ll rephrase. Imagine that the person you were planning to buy a gift for bought a gift for you.”

Upon being told this, the movie reel of Noelle’s imagination began to play. She imagined that Asta worked with all his might to choose a present for her. And, as he handed it to her, he had his usual innocent smile as he said,

“Thanks for everything, Noelle!”

Then, he grabs her shoulders, and……

Suddenly, Noelle was filled with so much happiness that she melted, a smile spontaneously forming on her face.

“See? You’re ridiculously happy about this!”

“……A-am n-eh heh heh. I’m not happy at all!”

“You’re angry, but you’re still smiling…… Anyhow,”

Bell zipped right in front of Noelle’s nose as she said with furrowed brows,

“A gift is something you choose while thinking about that person, trying your very hardest to make that person happy! A gift implies that the other person spent that time thinking about you! That’s why receiving a gift is such a happy thing! It’s rude to the person you’re buying a gift for if you buy it all sneaky like that!”

“Y-you talk too much! It makes it hard for me to talk back to you!”

“What’s with you trying to get the last words in! We’re ending this argument here and now!”

While the two argued with each other, at that moment,

THUD

They heard a sound from behind them, causing the townspeople to clamor about. Bell and Noelle turned around, where they saw beautiful woman with hazelnut-blonde hair had collapsed to the floor.

“H-hey, are you alright!?”

Without a moment’s delay, Noelle rushed over to the woman, lifting her body in her arms.

“……Huh?”

The woman spoke. She wore a beret, as well as a scarf which covered her mouth. Thus, it took a moment for Noelle to notice, but this beautiful woman was……

“……Captain Charlotte?”

 “I-is it really alright for you to be walking so soon?”

“…..Yes. You needn’t worry. I just got a little dizzy while shopping. My apologies.”

“Jeez~ be careful, okay? We thought something happened.”

After that, Noelle, Charlotte, and Bell all walked together through the town as they talked. The Captain of the Blue Roses, Charlotte Roselei, was cursing her blunder from earlier. Today, Charlotte had put on a light disguise to buy a gift for Yami incognito, but then she saw Bell and Noelle walking through town. They looked like they were looking to buy a gift, so she decided to follow behind them to use them as a reference for what she should buy.

But…… she messed up. She had overheard their conversation, when Bell told Noelle to imagine being given a gift from the person she was planning to buy a gift for. This caused Charlotte to begin imagining the same. She imagined that Yami worked with all his might to choose a present for her. She imagined him saying something to the effect of,

“I like strong women, but that cute side of you ain’t bad either.”

As he wrapped something like a necklace around her neck, and…...

Suddenly, her blood rushed to her face, and, before she knew it, she fell to the ground.

“……Knowing of this would only cause my squad members to worry, so could you please keep the fact I fainted a secret……? A-also, if you could not tell anyone that I was here…”

Charlotte walked with them, frantically trying to convince them to keep her secret… or rather, she was just trying to convince them not to worry about her. That’s all.

Bell completely rethought her earlier stance and clapped her hands together as she said cheerily,

“Well, this is perfect! The three of us can go shopping together!”

“……Huh?”

The two said this simultaneously with eyes wide in shock at Bell’s sudden proposal. Well, perhaps it was not so abrupt after all. It was only natural to do this after meeting fellow acquaintances in town. Also, being able to consult with someone else as they shopped for a gift sounded great. However, Noelle and Charlotte also thought,

‘If I do as she suggested, isn’t it going to look like I’m really enthusiastic about buying a gift for him……!?’

‘I want to be like “Well, I guess it can’t be helped,” but……’

These girls were truly troublesome. However, Bell said the magical words they needed.

“I’m looking for a gift for Yuno, but I’ve been having a lot of trouble deciding what to buy him. If we discuss it with one another, then we can all decide on what to buy, right?”

“!!”

With those words, the two were grinning ear to ear internally, but they tried not to show that on the outside. Noelle responded first.

“Hmph…… Well, I guess it can’t be helped~ If you’re going to be that insistent about it, then I guess I can shop with you.”

“If you put it like that, then I cannot refuse you…… Ah! Aah, that’s right! A few days ago, during the Star Festival, I ended up owing a small debt to Yami! I’d hate to leave it unpaid, so maybe I should buy him something…... Ha ha, this is a good opportunity, after all. Let’s do it.”

After Noelle, Charlotte responded with a tone of voice that would suggest that she found all this to be a bit of a bother, but her inner enthusiasm was so great that it showed in her gait. An acquaintance of hers was buying a gift, so of course she would “help” and accompany her.

‘If I can approach from this angle, then it’s not so bad……!’

These girls were truly troublesome. Not knowing of such troublesome considerations, or rather, not being interested in the troubles of others, Bell quipped, “Well then, it’s decided!” and sat on Noelle’s shoulder.

“Ah, I’m so glad! I’m beat after flying around for so long. Plus, I stand out more when I’m by myself.”

“…I bet that was your goal this whole time.”

‘She’s annoyingly cute……,’ Noelle thought. Noelle then asked Charlotte,

“Well, whatever…… Anyway, where should we go first?”

“Central avenue should be fine, right? Most things can be found there.”

Charlotte answered as she walked beside Noelle. At that moment,

“……Huh? Big Sis? You’re Big Sis, right?”

“!!”

Hearing a voice she knew all too well call out to her from behind, Charlotte stopped dead in her tracks. She turned her head in an unnatural fashion, much like a robot, only to see…

“It is Big Sis! And you’re wearing civilian clothes…… You look so good in civilian clothes! What a treat!”

Sol Marron, squad member of the Blue Roses and Charlotte’s close aide. Standing behind her were several more members of the Blue Roses.

“Oh, hello…… Sol…… Fancy meeting you here.”

For the time being, she was able to return Sol’s greeting with dignity and grace, but, internally, Charlotte was thinking,

‘……T-this is bad. If they find out I was planning to give a gift to a man, they’ll……!’

The Blue Roses was a squad who hated men, and Charlotte ruled this squad at the top. She had no clue what they would tell her if they found out she was going to give a gift to a man.

‘I mustn’t allow them to find out……’

Charlotte thought to herself vehemently. In contrast to Charlotte, Sol indifferently came closer to them.

“Oh, on Noelle…… it’s the wind spirit! What a rare honor~”

“……So. what. are you all. doing here?”

Charlotte unintentionally butchered the coherence of her words as she asked. Sol…... and the rest of the Blue Roses shouldn’t have had any missions that would require them to be here, so why…...?

“We heard that the Original Sin was sighted around here. We came to ask around about that.”

‘That Original Sin! To think that it would show itself even here! As one would expect from such a dangerous magic tool!’

While Charlotte thought this angerly, Sol tilted her head to the side with a grin.

“So, why were you here, Big S-

Before Sol could finish, Noelle interjected as if she were about to blow a fuse,

“To-today, we’re helping Bell shop!”

In response, Charlotte nodded her head so vigorously that she looked like she was headbanging. That’s right. In her agitation, Charlotte had not realized this, but there was no need for her to be so worried. Right now, they had a convenient excuse.

However, those feelings of safety lasted only for a second. The reason being that Noelle, caught up in her own temper, declared,

“C-Captain Charlotte and I also, um, p-plan to buy a gift, but only…… only because this is a good chance to do so!”

‘HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!’

While screaming internally, Charlotte glared at Noelle with all her might, but it was already too late.

“……Present……?”

The second they heard Noelle, Sol, as well as all the Blue Roses members behind her, narrowed their eyes sharply. Then, to make things worse, Bell, in her inability to read the mood, dropped this bombshell.

“That’s right. We’re all going to buy a gift for the person precious to us. Eh heh heh, isn’t that great~?”

‘HOW ABOUT I DO SOMETHING “GREAT” TO YOU, HUUUH!!?’

Charlotte thought to herself as she glared at Bell, but to no avail. Her squad members’ narrowed eyes were so sharp that they shone like daggers.

“……The person…… precious to you…...?”

“Y-you’re mistaken…… before drawing any conclusions, you should listen to a person’s whole story……”

While trying to calm down her squad members, Charlotte was racking her brain, trying to think up a good excuse.

“……I’m listening. I’m listening, all right. If it’s Big Sis, I’ll listen to whatever you have to say……”

However, before Charlotte could think of an idea, Sol stepped forward with a sway, drawing nearer toward Charlotte. She opened her eyes, revealing that the light had completely disappeared from them, and sloppily tilted her head to the side as she hoarsely said,  

“……So, tell me…… the person you plan to give a gift to…… your precious person…... who is it?”

She sounded like an evil spirit as she spoke. She spoke with such vigor that Charlotte felt like if she answers this spirit incorrectly, she’ll haunt her for the rest of her life…… no, she’ll haunt her even into the next world while groaning, “Big Sis…… we’ll be together forever… forever……,” or something. Even so, Charlotte couldn’t think of a good reply. What should she tell her to escape such a difficult situation……?

“……A ‘precious person’…… I know!”

Though Charlotte felt cornered, she found a clue in those words and said,

“……Good grief. I guess it can’t be helped that you would find out.”

She sighed, then, one by one, she looked at Sol and all the other members of the Blue Roses straight in the eyes before quietly saying with a smile,

“My precious person…… that’s all of you, the members of the Blue Roses.”

“………!!”

The sound of falling in love echoed inside every single member of the Blue Roses, and a vision of a flower garden spread across the background. Charlotte continued,

“Our rank in this year’s Star Festival went up by one compared to last year, remember? That was all thanks to the strenuous effort you put forth every day. That’s why I planned on secretly preparing gifts for all of you, but…… it seems that I’ve been found out.”

“Aah……. Ah……. Aah! B-Big Sis……. Big Sis Big Sis Big Sis!!”

A stream of tears flooded from Sol’s eyes as she staggered before sinking to the floor.

“Even if it was only for a second, I can’t believe I doubted such a wonderful person who’s so thoughtful about her squad! I’m such a fool!!”

Sol began bashing her forehead against the stone pavement. The surrounding pedestrians were shocked by the sight, and mothers with small children quietly covered their children’s eyes before walking away.

“That’s enough, Sol. I should be the one apologizing for confusing you, so please stop that.”

‘Because that’s honestly terrifying to watch……,’ Charlotte thought. This snapped Sol out of it. Charlotte then declared,

“The Blue Roses is an honorable squad composed of only the purest of women! From here on, let us complete our duties with zeal so that we do not fall behind those other squads led by such vulgar, vile men! Do I make myself clear!?”

“Yes ma’am!”

Charlotte sent them off with those words, and the members of her squad walked away with 70% more fighting spirit than before. Charlotte waited until they slipped into the crowd before gripping her chest. Although she somehow managed to avoid a crisis, it still hurt her heart that she had to trick them like that. Moreover, buying presents for ten people is going to be quite painful as well… for her wallet, that is. While Charlotte was thinking this, Noelle and Bell said in surprise,

“You’re amazing, Captain Charlotte…… you’re giving a gift to Captain Yami AND all the members of your squad?”

“You sure are generous~ But are you really going to be okay? Aren’t you going to run out of money that way?”

‘This is your fault!’

Of course, as much as she wanted to, Charlotte didn’t say this. Instead, she replied with,

“If it’s just every once and a while, it’s fine.”

A suitable reply. In truth, the one keeping secrets is her. It’s not those girls’ fault. They’re airheads, but it’s not their fault.

……At any rate, just meeting a few acquaintances caused this much of a fuss. She had the feeling that that there were other traps lying in wait as well. She could tell that this shopping trip was not going to be a smooth one.

“……Anyway, shall we go? Our time is limited.”

Although this incident marked only the beginning of their troubles, the girls’ quest to choose a gift had begun. With the curtain rising on their quest, the three of them came to a large street which cut through the shopping district. A variety of stores, both large and small, lined both sides of the street, where a wide variety of goods were on display. The three of them decided that they would start at the beginning and walk down this street, thinking that they would surely find something worth buying here. As they walked, Bell became completely stumped for the second time that day as she said to Noelle,  

“I know I’m repeating myself, but having so many choices makes it even harder to choose.”

“You’ll just have to start by narrowing down your choices, like by picking out things that would look good on Yuno.”

“Hmmm, but……”

Bell glanced at all the people walking through the street before looking straight into Noelle’s eyes.

“My Yuno is so handsome that he can’t possibly be compared with any of those other guys! He’s so stylish that he looks good in absolutely anything, and every accessory you could possibly find looks like it was made for him!”

“You don’t have to say it so bluntly.”

Noelle wondered if the concept of “humility” existed in the spirit world.

“If you can’t decide on what would look good on him, why not buy something he can use?”

Charlotte said as they walked toward a nearby clothing store. While rummaging through the clothes that were piled at the front of the store, her face flushed a bit red as she continued,

“For example…... Yami wears the same kind of tank top every day, right? If I buy him something like that, no matter how many he already has, he’s sure to use it, I think.”

Hearing Charlotte’s opinion, Bell said with a displeased look on her face,

“That doesn’t sound fun at all. That’s no different than if he bought it himself.”

“That’s why you choose a different design than what he normally would, or you choose something made with higher-grade materials. Then, when he needs to wear something more formal or if he just feels like wearing something a little different, he can wear what you bought him.”

“I see……”

Noelle nodded in agreement. As one would expect from her senior, not to mention a captain of the Magic Knights. Perhaps what she said wasn’t all that special, but Noelle was impressed that Charlotte could come up with such an idea so quickly and put it into action. Her taste in clothing must be superb as well.

Before long, Charlotte picked out a shirt from the pile and turned around toward Noelle and Bell.

“Something that he wouldn’t normally choose himself, as well as something a little more expensive than what he usually buys…… In other words, something like this.”  

Saying this, the shirt she presented to them was…...

“………”

A tank top with black skulls plastered all over it, one of incredibly poor taste.  Red studs lined its sleeves and collar, and there were gold chains strewn across here and there.

“I was thinking something on the lines of this, but…… what do you two think?”

For some reason, Charlotte had a smug look on her face as she held the tank top(?) in front of her and asked for their thoughts. Noelle and Bell were brutally honest with their answers.

“It’s so lame, I could vomit.”

“If I had a boyfriend who wore that, I’d break up with him.”

“I see. Well, I must say, I really outdid myself this…… HUH!? Wai- what!? I-It’s no good!?”

Charlotte couldn’t believe what they just said. As if to shock her even further, Bell ridiculed,

“Of course it’s no good! That’s not something expensive that he wouldn’t buy for himself, that’s something pointlessly expensive that nobody would ever buy for themselves.”

“Wha-, but…… i-isn’t this cool!? It even has chains!”

“So what!? Actually, that’s exactly why it sucks! Both fashionably speaking and functionally speaking!”

“No, but…… it has skulls……”

“You can’t just buy something just because it has skulls! Just how much appeal do you think skulls have, huh!?”

Charlotte Roselei: 27 years old. Before now, she has never bought a man a gift. She remembers giving her father a gift when she was very young, but giving gifts to blood relatives isn’t really comparable to giving gifts to a member of the opposite sex. Moreover, the last time she gave a gift to him was when she was 10 years old. In other words, her sense of gift giving hasn’t matured since then. This serious accident was the result of her trying to join two words she heard boys around her at that age describe as “cool”, such as “skulls” or “chains”.

Not knowing of Charlotte’s circumstances, Bell let out a sigh and said,

“Get yourself together. Let me just say this in advance, I’ve already prepared my main gift for Yuno. I’m just looking for something a little extra to buy for him today!”

“……Wait, Bell. You say you already bought your main gift for Yuno?”

Noelle said in surprise.

“Of course I have!”

As she said this, Bell puffed out her chest with pride. Charlotte somewhat sadly returned the tank top to where she found it and sighed,

“……. Please tell us these things sooner. Didn’t we agree that we would use each other’s gifts as a reference to help us choose our own?”

“So, what did you buy?”

After Noelle asked her this, Bell self-importantly paused to add a moment of suspense before saying with a smug look on her face,

“I didn’t buy it! I wrote it……. I wrote a poem about forty cantos** long, all for Yuno!”

‘…………Eww’

Not noticing that the two had backed away from her, Bell started a longwinded speech while gesturing grandiosely with her arms, much like an actor would on stage.

“How much I think about Yuno every day, how much I love Yuno, what it is I love about Yuno…… even forty cantos wasn’t enough to fit it all in, but I composed it using the love I have for him every day. Fu fu, I’m sorry! My gift is far too amazing to be usable as a reference for the two of you!”

Charlotte and Noelle interjected before Bell could get any further.

“You have a lot of nerve making fun of my sense of gift giving when you yourself are in possession of such hazardous material.”

“You’d be better off throwing it away as soon as you can.”

“HUUH!?”

Bell yelled, absolutely livid, but Noelle tilted her head like a delinquent and returned fire.

“Don’t you “HUUH!?” me! A letter might be okay, but a poem…… if I received something like that, I wouldn’t know what to do with it! I’d just be plain terrified!”

“How rude! Every time he reads it, he would feel my love for him, wouldn’t he!?”

“That’s why it’s so terrifying! It’s almost stalker-like…… No, even a stalker would say “No, I’d never do that!”!”

“But I even have it all bound into a book! The book even has a ribbon!”

“No buts! All that just adds to the creepiness! I mean, what’s up with you!? I have no doubts anymore. You’re nuts!”

The wind spirit, Bell: age unknown. She loves Yuno, and she also loves herself. She loves hearing herself talk, she loves what she does, and she loves what she writes. In short, she thinks that anything she creates must be good, which means that the poetry she wrote must, of course, be good. Anybody would be happy to receive it. She would later testify that it was this distorted love that led to such a crime.

“G-grrrr!! If you’re gonna go that far, then let’s hear what you plan on buying!”

Bell retaliated in tears. In response, Noelle pushed up her glasses and said,

“I’ve known what I was going to buy him since the moment we came here…… it’s over there.”

Full of confidence, she pointed her finger at a store where a cat plush holding a grimoire was displayed. It was a specialty store, dedicated to selling book pouches.

‘……That’s a good idea, actually,’ Bell and Charlotte thought.

Book pouches are made of sturdy materials, but they can break, especially if they get damaged by a foe’s attack, so many Magic Knights like to have spares on hand. On the other hand, there are many slovenly men who don’t bother to buy another book pouch until their old one has completely fallen apart. In other words, just as Charlotte was saying earlier, it was something that the other person won’t be troubled by having more than one of, while also being something he wouldn’t buy for himself. In addition, book pouches often feature rather tame designs, so something like the tank top incident they had earlier is unlikely to occur if you buy a book pouch.

“I see…… not bad, Noelle.”

Charlotte said without thinking. Bell, too, couldn’t deny that Noelle’s choice was a good one once she saw where Noelle was pointing, begrudgingly admitting,

“W-well, that’s not a bad choice……”

Noelle flipped her silver hair over her shoulder with a swish.

“Of course. It’s one of a kind, so I’m sure he’ll be happy with it.”

She walked toward the specialty shop as she talked…… but, for some reason, she stopped before entering the shop. She then started cuddling the two-meter cat plush that was displayed at the front of the store to attract customers and boasted,

“But, this is the gift I’m giving to Asta! You two should find your own gifts!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not for sale! And wait a second, you were talking about the cat!?”

Charlotte retorted without a moment’s delay, causing Noelle to look around restlessly.

“Huh?...... Yes, but……? What else would I be talking about?”

“Plenty! In fact, of all the things you could have chosen here, why would you choose that! No matter how I look at it, wouldn’t that just be in the way!? It’s too big!”

“But that’s what makes it so cute!”

Noelle Silva: 15 years old. Her tastes are rather simple, but they can also be a bit odd at times.

“You’ve lost me! All I can say to you is that you have completely lost me!”

Completely unaware of this aspect of Noelle, Charlotte retorted with all her might, completely out of her usual character…… and then, at that moment, the three of them realized –

They all suck at this.

All three of them were somewhat aware of the fact that their tastes were a bit “off”. They decided to go on this shopping trip together in an attempt to remedy that, but…… they never thought they’d all be this far gone. All they’ve been doing is roasting each other and getting roasted. This hasn’t gotten them any closer to choosing the right gift, and, at this rate, they’re never going to get to the right choice. They’ll only continue to wander eternally through an endless corridor filled with bad choices. Recognizing the danger of their current predicament, they silently exchanged glances with each other.

“……U-um, excuse me? Did you w-want something…… from my store?”

A woman came out from the store which sold book pouches and fearfully spoke to the three of them.

“……….!!”

All three of them turned toward the woman in an instant before turning back toward each other and nodding. Then, after wordlessly hatching up a plot together, they all stepped toward the shopkeeper. Now that things have come to this, they’ll have to rely on their last resort,

“……I want to buy a present, but what would you recommend?”

Consulting the shop owner.

— To be continued in Part 2 —

This isn’t quite “half” of the chapter since this was the best break-point I could find and I had to study for exams, but I promise part 2 is longer than this one. The below are some supplementary notes about this chapter:

** In Japan, there are two types of chocolate a woman can buy for a man on Valentine’s Day. Giri chocolate is “obligatory chocolate"  and is given to male coworkers or colleagues in expression of friendship, gratitude, etc. In contrast, Honmei chocolate is inspired by romantic interest and given to husbands, boyfriends, or a potential love interest if confessing on Valentine’s Day is your thing. The idea is that, when Noelle gives Asta a gift, she’s going to insist it’s like giri chocolate. It’s not honmei or anything, b-baka!

** A Canto is a subdivision or part in a narrative or epic poem, consisting of five or more lines

** The original title is Kojirase Joshi wa Tasogarenai. Kojirase Joshi doesn’t translate well into English, and is a term that required a ton of research (well, in the sense that you can’t find it in a dictionary so you just look it up on Yahoo Japan instead). Apparently, it’s a slang term coined in 2011 from Amamiya Mami’s book, Joshi wo Kojirasete. It refers to young women who "just can't get it right”, hapless in love and lacking self-confidence in their own femininity. It can even describe women who have an inferiority complex about their own femininity, which causes them to have difficulties in their social life. In short, they’re troubled women, hence my decision for the title of this chapter.

[sansacherie]

A Mother's Choice (Is Sometimes No Choice at All)

notes: I literally wrote this in like an hour so yeah its definitely not perfect. there are probably plot holes. this is definitely my universe, however i still tried to somewhat stay true to the spirit of asoiaf. this was inspired by convo on original outline Sansa. @luchibelle brought up an interesting what if scenario of Sansa fleeing with her child. you might not agree with how I wrote sansa, however as I said this is my universe. Sansa is also definitely older than 13 here - she was married at 16 & had her son at 17.

Queen Sansa Stark, wife of King Joffrey I Baratheon, and mother of his son and heir, knelt in the sept designated for her use, and prayed.

If the gods were good, they would answer her prayers. Send her a message about the path she should take.

But then if the gods were good, they would not have made a man like Joffrey Baratheon king, would they?

Sansa titled her head upwards to look at the stained-glass window and idly thought that for all its beauty, it did not equal that of the windows in her lady mother’s own sept.

Father, if I do this, I will accept whatever judgement you give me.

Joffrey was her husband. She had stood in the Sept of Baelor that day and pledged herself to him with a kiss and a cloak. Both gods and men had witnessed this - Lord Tywin Lannister with his inscrutable face and his daughter Queen Cersei- a title that she did not have any right to in truth, as she was no longer Joffrey’s regent- giving a bright smile that did not veil the malice in her lovely green eyes. Joffrey was not only her husband, but her king as well.

She had always been taught that it was her duty to stand by her husband. To serve her king.

But her little Edric…

Gentle Mother, you must know that I only want to protect my son.

That had been the only thing she had ever wanted, since the very first moment she had felt him kick inside her. Until she had felt that sharp jab – but nothing as sharp as the way Joffrey had seized her wrist and snarled obscenities in her face for the first time- the baby had not felt quite real to Sansa. Only when she first felt him stir, did she understand that she was going to be a mother. Or perhaps she only knew what exactly that would mean the moment the Maester had placed Edric into her arms.

Sansa was immensely grateful that Joffrey had taken after his father in choosing to go on a hunt when it became apparent that her time was approaching. He must only enjoy the sight of blood when he can physically spill it, himself.

She did not have to contend with Joffrey, but she must endure his mother.

Cersei had been the first one to enter the birthing chambers. “My Lady,” The Maester’s voice was triumphant. “Her Grace has been blessed with a strong and healthy boy.”

Even in her state, Sansa caught the way Cersei’s lip curled when he referred to Sansa as Her Grace. “Blessed indeed.” Cersei said sweetly. She held out her arms expectantly, and Sansa felt no choice but to surrender her son. Cersei cradled him, and Sansa tried to ignore the anxious dread in her stomach as her son’s paternal grandmother gazed at him intently.

“He’s beautiful. But there’s not much of his father in him, is there?” The way Cersei worded it, it almost felt like an accusation. But what is she accusing me of?

“All three of my brothers took after my mother, Lady Cersei.” Sansa said politely. “It is just one of those things I except.”

Cersei smiled. “That is true enough, good-daughter. But you must be so proud. You have fulfilled every queen’s wish – to give her husband a son, and before the first year has even ended.”

Sansa knew Cersei was mocking her. Sansa had once gushed over Joffrey being the father of her children one day, until Joffrey had shown his claws when it had been too late. But despite Cersei’s mockery, Sansa was proud of her son. But it had nothing to do with Joffrey now.

Warrior, please grant me the strength to see this through.

Sansa knew that the Warrior was prayed to for strength in battle, but He could also be turned to for strength outside it. And if Sansa did this, she must wield her strength as fiercely as a knight with a sword.

Because children needed their mothers to be strong for them.

Smith, grant us safety.

A ship could only promise freedom if its passage was also safe.

She was no longer a maid, but…. Maiden, guard me as if you were guarding my innocence. So that I may guard my son.

Crone, light my way. Am I making the right decision?

She would be dancing with treason, if she did.

She might have been a queen, but she was still a woman, and women had been killed for less.

But regardless, she might have no choice.

------------------------------------------------

Perhaps it was only fitting that on the night she would flee, that she would meet him here in the godswood.

Sansa pressed Edric close to her, praying fervently that he would not wake. Sleep for now, little one.

“Your Grace.” Sansa tried not to jump at the sound.

Varys lowered his hood, smiling. Something about the way he smiled always made Sansa feel unease. But he was her only hope.

“There were no issues, I assume, in you leaving your chambers?”

Sansa licked her lips. “No. What will you plan to do with the guards?”

Varys raised his eye-brows. “What do you imagine will happen?”

He will see them killed before the dawn breaks. Sansa tried to suppress the strange sense of guilt that struck her at the thought. The guards were nothing to her, and her son was everything. Sansa knew that the threat of torture would just as quickly open a man’s mouth just as much as the promise of gold would close it.

Sansa nodded and took a deep breath. “Then we must leave.” She spoke, grateful that her tone did not falter.

She knew Varys was not doing this purely out of any love for her or her son. He must benefit from this in some way, she thought. She had asked him that. "Why would you do this for me?"

Varys had smiled. "If your brother wins, then I imagine he will be all the more tender to a little spider if he knows that he did something for his sister. It'll make it easier for him to sack the city, knowing his sister and nephew are not inside."

No, Sansa thought, just a thousand other mothers and their children. She hoped that Robb could take the city peacefully. Only her beloved Joffrey should suffer. But maybe that was only something a little girl could dream.

"And if he doesn't... If Cersei asks you directly where I've gone..."

"I will not lie. I will say what my little birds have told me. But I pray it will never come to that."

"Best do," Sansa replied.

----------------------------

News spread quickly of the Queen and the little prince's disappearance. Joffrey is enraged and vows to split the one responsible in half for daring to steal his wife and son. To smash their heads in. Cersei is not half so deluded as her son. She knows that it would be her son's beautiful little queen who is at fault. She pledged to love my son, and this is what she does- the little bitch. Perhaps Cersei was wrong, and the girl had more wolf in her than she thought.

Robb Stark has spies in Westeros and abroad. It is through these spies that Sansa delivers a letter - letting them know enough that she and Edric were safe, but no more than that. Safe. Catelyn had clung to that word.

She clings to her daughter even harder when the war is over and Sansa and her son return to Westeros- no longer a babe, but a little boy of three, who could not understand why his mother sounded so happy, but also crying as if she was hurting too- like she had been hurting for a long time. And it was only now in this strange lady's arms that the hurt was finally going away now.

notes: it's what to you decide sansa & her son's futures.

[mimiswitchywrites]

Not A Burden: Chapter 6

TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references, child/s***al a**se references (not graphic but enough that could be triggering).

Begins by exploring the events that lead to her attempt and period typical h***ph*bia

Master list or read on AO3

1.8k words

If you want to be tagged for updates, message me or comment!

----------

Miriam had not had the best of lives, there was no way to sugar coat that (and oh, how she had tried.) She had grown up with the weight of being different on her shoulders, but it took years to figure out what it actually was that separated her from the others her age. She tried to play with the girls in her village, bringing them straw dolls and small outfits made of leaves, but they could never truly connect. Children have an innate ability to sniff out otherness and will turn away those that aren’t right in the blink of an eye with not an ounce of remorse.

Her father tried to fix her, whispering about how he just wanted to help her fit in to stop her crying out. And still, she was turned away. Eventually, out of options and with too much pain tied to the village, she ran away. If she couldn’t find a place at home, she would find one elsewhere.

And thus, a cycle began. From her seventh year of being, she moved from village to village, trying to get by. She discovered a love for baking and would find work on farm and in kitchens whenever she could. She would stay for a few months, maybe even a year or two if it were a particularly nice place, and then pack her up her belongings and move on. By her twenty fourth year, she was exhausted. She hadn’t seen her father since she was a mere girl and yet he followed her everywhere she went in the faces of strangers. His voice was in her ear as she tried to sleep, hands ghosting her skin at every opportunity. He was even in her dreams, rest something she hadn’t truly experienced in years.

She figured out the root of her different-ness as a young teen, and it loomed over her head like a particularly nasty storm she couldn’t outrun. People were not as accepting outside her village as she had expected; it was nothing but childish naivety.

On occasion, she would wake in the bed of some tavern wench or village leader’s daughter, beautiful woman pressed into her side, and she would cry. She would cry for the child she should have been, for the life she could never live, for this life she could not sustain. Even if she were somehow never found out, she still could not get over her own prejudice.

If there were anything she remembered about her father (she had done her best to drown her memories of him in mead) it was his lessons. He taught her the ways of the world, as a father should. Lesson 1: women are whores and witches, they cursed men to end up angry and alone as her mother had with him.

Lesson 2: Royalty was a con to make the rich richer and the poor penniless.

Lesson 3 (the most important): Man would not lay with man and woman not with woman – that was only for those on the isle across the great ocean.

She tried to convince herself that he meant little to her, but he was her father, and it was so difficult to unlearn all his teachings, even when they were against a huge part of her being.

A few times, she forced herself to ignore her mind and body and would sleep with men. The first time she did of her own intent, she was thirteen, barely a woman. He was the son of her host. She liked the way they could joke with each other and the warm feeling she had every time he said something nice to her, so she assumed that the feeling towards him was love. You touch the ones you love, that’s what her father would say as her lifters her skirt. They committed the act a few more times before she broke down, tearing at her flesh where the boys’ hands had lain and wanting to crawl from her skin.

She left soon after.

The second time was after a long night in the tavern. She encountered some of the royal guard and, after they flicked a few coins at her, she got on her knees and let them have their way with her. She could see her father’s face among them, floating in the background, but she let them finish before breaking down - she was always considerate like that.

In total, she had allowed eight men to enter her (and another five that she hadn’t) and nothing seemed to change. The coil in her stomach still only unwound with a woman and her flesh would crawl every time she removed her underclothes for a man. She had tried drink and the berries that made her mind spin, but nothing made her comfortable with the act. Nothing but the feeling of a soft breast under her hand.

She was disgusting.

And so, hope far from reach and scoring knife in hand, she made her way through the woods. She accepted that she couldn’t be the way she wanted, the way that she should, and so she gave up. She opened her arms to the darkness.

And then she opened her eyes to see light.

And she was trying so hard to keep it together. She was good, trying not to pick at wounds and not giving in to the thoughts that reminded her where each knight kept their knives. She took the sleeping draughts and tried to allow her body to heal, even if it meant seeing His face each night, feeling his fingers work their way past hair and skin. She was even sneaking out of a guarded castle in the dead of night to go on a picnic with someone she had only met a few days ago. She was doing her best at being normal, to have fun as others her age might, but all she could think about was how much like a date this was and how much that wasn’t what she wanted.

Miriam was not good at saying no.

--

They arrived in the meadow just outside the city limits and Lancelot was quick to lay down the blanket and light the candles Juliana had supplied. The orange glow reflected in Miriam’s eyes and he struggled to draw himself away from them, hand dying to cup her cheek. Instead, he set out the food on the napkins.

“Lancelot,” she began, smile growing, “this is too much, you didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, for you.” He took a deep breath and hesitantly placed his hand over hers. Their eyes met, his face flushing, before she pulled her hand away to look through the rest of the basket. While short lived, his hand tingled from where hers had rested under it. He could practically feel his heart double in size as she watched the glee on her face upon discovering the sticky buns.

“Did you know,” she began, mouth full of bread and hand covering it in an attempt to be more polite, “that I am a baker? Was, I guess.” He didn’t, obviously, but nodded for her to talk about it more.

“When I was young, I spent a few months with this elderly woman. Her body was frail, and she could do very little, but she was determined to bake, and she decided that, if I were to stay with her that I must learn to bake.” She took another bite. “And so I did and, I know this must make me sound obnoxious but I am darn good at it too!” She laughed as if it were an outrageous statement.

Her laugh was beautiful, Lancelot found himself thinking. He loved the way her eyes lit up and the corners creased. She covered her mouth each time she did it, he had noticed. He wondered what her lips looked like behind the shield and, briefly, what they would feel like against his.

“I am sure I could talk to the Cook and we could see about getting you some work in the kitchens.” He offered, not sure if he was over stepping. From the way her she leant forward and she looked intently at his face, he realised he hadn’t.

“You would do that for me?” He nodded and, after debating internally for a second, Miriam put her hand on his as he had earlier. “Thank you, Lancelot.” He stared at their interlocked fingers, blushing once again. He could do little more than smile at her.

--

The sun had begun to rise by the time the pair made their way back to the castle. They had talked, and laughed, and listened to the earliest birds, and watched as the clouds travelled in front of the moon. Lancelot found himself gently touching her arm or shoulder or hand whenever he could, his heart warming and breath hitching as she made eye contact with him. Miriam told him why she had been late (and profusely apologised for making him wait for her) and how her and the King were on better ground. He promised to be nicer to Arthur in training that day.

Finally reaching the top of the final spiral staircase and laughing as quietly as they could about the dozing guard they had scared, Miriam pulled her arm out from where it was hooked onto Lancelot’s. He looked down at her, eyes flickering down to her lips. They were a beautiful red from where she had been biting at them all night. He brought his hand up to her cheek, taking a step towards her. He watched her as her eyes widened as they darted between his arm and face. He took a final step, closing the gap between them and, oh so slowly, lent in, eyes fluttering closed.

Miriam was frozen in place. She wanted to pull back, to tell him that she had a lovely night but that wasn’t what she wanted to happen, to remove his hand from her cheek, but she couldn’t do anything. Luckily, she didn’t have to. Merlin barreled out the door, almost crashing into the pair (Miri was glad that Lancelot had such a steady grip on her for that or she would have toppled down the steep, stone stairs.)

Merlin’s eyes opened wide, and brows shot up. His mouth curled into a smirk as he eyed the couple, and their slightly disheveled appearance from lying on the ground for hours. “And what time do you call this, madam?” he directed at Miriam, crossing his arms in a faux authoritative manner. She was still in shock, mouth opening and closing as she tried to form some sort of defense. He laughed, moving to the side and beckoning her in. She ducked under his arm and closed the door behind her, leaving Merlin alone with the knight. She would much rather face Gaius’ wrath than whatever would come next in a conversation with Lancelot.

The old man in question was sat at his bench, working on some weird blue mixture. He looked up at her arrival and lifted the eyebrow. She sighed, lying face down on her cot and pulling the blanket over her head. He shook his head at her motionless form and turned back to his concoction.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Letter from a disenchanted student of the Divine Principle

Many Unification Church members seem to think people who left the organization are like some kind of lapsed Catholics, but most of those people just recognized Moon’s absurd and contradictory rhetoric had absolutely no relationship to reality – I pointed out many of those obvious contradictions in my previous letter to Rev Moon. Even the vaunted Divine Principle was not his own teaching. Much of it came from a woman called Seong-do Kim whose revelations began in 1923. She stated that Jesus did not come to die (not new because other Christians had taught this previously), she also taught that the fall was a sexual sin (again not new because Jewish scholars suggested this long ago and anyone can recognize the association, even sex shops use a bitten apple to advertise their wares). She also taught about the change of blood lineage through the messiah – thus justifying all the deviant sexual activity involved in the pikareum rituals. Another source was a woman called Chong Deuk-eun who dictated a book called the Principle of Life in 1946-47. It was published in 1958.

The history parallels were taken straight from the teachings of Baek-moon Kim’s Israel Monastery – being the reason they finish in 1917, which was Baek-moon’s birth date rather than 1920 when Moon was born. The final Divine Principle book was composed by a committee guided by Hyo-won Eu with input from Young Oon Kim and various professors. So rather than being a direct revelation, the DP is actually an interesting amalgam of Christian theology, nineteenth century science, Oriental philosophy and shamanism – added to the insights and teachings that were taken from various Korean spiritual groups.



This was why I felt free to approach much of the DP as almost allegorical because the main thing to emphasize was personal spiritual maturity – the development of a loving parental heart. (The real meaning of ‘perfection’.) I never believed that absolute Cain/Abel rubbish spouted by Moon and Japanese leaders. I remember one itinerant worker saying, ‘If my central figure tells me this red dress is blue then it’s blue.’ Absolutely insane – but this is exactly the kind of thing that has been propagated by the Moon family and their minions, especially in Japan, and it leads to all kinds of abuses.



In addition to the DP we also have Rev. Moon’s great blessing theory, whereby through downing a glass of holy wine and being engrafted to his lineage we become capable of conceiving pure offspring, free from original sin. These ‘blessed’ children can then form the core of the heavenly kingdom on earth, of course with the ‘True Parents’ and their children at the absolute center. However, the proof of any pudding is in the eating – regardless of how good the recipe might sound. So let us look at the results, the fruits of the messiah and his teaching.

We can start with some of his own blessed children:   Ye Jin – (Divorced.) Hyo Jin – was a drug addict, I saw him give a sermon one time when he was so stoned he had to hold on to the podium in order to stand up. He punched and kicked his wife, Nansook Hong, watched pornography, walked around with a gun in his pocket and beat up church members. (Divorced.) In Jin – was forced to resign her position because it became public knowledge about her affairs with two married members and the illegitimate child she had with one of them. (Divorced.) Un Jin – said clearly on TV that her father was not the messiah, and that the church was just about power and money. (Divorced.)

 Hyun Jin, the kind-hearted business expert who wanted to cut the salaries of our church’s jewelry workers by a third – I saw a video of him calling a church leader an arrogant bastard and kicking him as the man knelt before him. No matter what the guy was guilty of, this was just one more example of the violence perpetrated by the Moon family. Which of course was epitomized by Cleopas, the black Zimbabwean supposedly embodying the spirit of Heung Jin, who went around the world viciously beating up men and women, putting some in hospital. He even threatened church members with a pistol. (All of it approved by Rev Moon who laughed at the beatings and had himself used a baseball bat on members.)



Kook Jin – an arms dealer who said Abel wouldn’t have been killed if he’d had a gun. Divorced his wife and had himself re-blessed with a Korean beauty queen. He now has his own group of armed ‘knights’ willing to do whatever he orders. (Divorced.)

 Hyung Jin, the heir apparent (according to him), lied about getting a BA from Harvard when he actually attained a lower qualification – and if he thinks the parable of the sower is referring to ‘absolute sex’ I think he needs to go back to Divinity School. His Sanctuary Church now promotes the owning of AR-15 semi-automatic assault rifles, and has ceremonies with participants carrying these lethal weapons while wearing bizarre crowns of bullets. According to one of his recent speeches, all the women of the world are ‘Brides of Christ,’ and he of course is now in that Christ position.

Don’t want to go into details about some of the others as I feel sorry for them.



So this so-called true family demonstrates clearly that there is no difference between blessed children and any others. Rev. Moon said as much in Korea when he was talking about Sammy Park, his illegitimate son. He said, ‘The sons from the concubine are better because there is more passion involved in their conception.’ So much for the value of the blessing. 



(Of course Mrs Moon blames the bad behavior of her adult, absolute ruler children on the poor church members, as though they could do anything to control it.)



So now lets look at the practical results of all the members’ sacrifice and offerings:

 This Parc One court case (the conflict that began between Kook Jin and Hyun Jin) resulted in at least 700 million dollars of church money going to lawyers and outside companies. This is at a time when Japanese church members were being bled dry; many could not even afford to go to the dentist. (They were commonly referred to as ‘the toothless ones’ in Japan.)



Cheongpyeong – you couldn’t make it up – they were selling apartments in the spirit world! People have to be completely away with the fairies to buy into that. Mrs Hyo Nam Kim (Dae Mo Nim or Hoon Mo Nim) after being denounced as a fraud, walked away with assets worth more than 230 million dollars (including one of the top golf courses in South Korea), so her spiritual real estate business must have been doing very well. It’s as crazy as charging money so that your ancestors can attend workshops with the spirit of Heung Jin, or paying thirty dollars for two bottles of Danjobi shampoo to get evil spirits out of your hair. (This all of course also being done with the consent of Rev Moon.)

Mrs Kim was supposedly channeling Dae Mo Nim, the mother of Hak Ja Han, which was actually a strange choice because Dae Mo Nim and another woman had spent two years in jail for beating a mentally ill youth to death in one of these frenzied ansu sessions (where they beat bad spirits out of people).

That whole Cheongpyeong providence is merely old Korean shamanism, and just because people have spiritual experiences there doesn’t validate what is going on. Something many members don’t realize is that God works to educate and reach people regardless of what religion they are following.



Rev. Moon often praised Korean culture but Korea was a slave society for most of its history. Although the number of slaves had declined during the nineteenth century the institution was not legally banned until 1894, and the system survived in practice until the 1920s. At least one third of the population were slaves in the past, and the children of slaves automatically belonged to their masters – with most wealthy men keeping concubines. The Koreans always had that tradition of the Yangban, or aristocrats, being served by everybody else, even having a caste of sex slaves for that purpose.



Another tradition was idol worship and shamanism. All this drumming and beating at Cheongpyeong is actually for drawing spirits into people, not driving them out. The disgusting business of putting Moon’s semen and blood into the holy wine is more shamanism. Shamans believe if you can get someone to imbibe your bodily fluids they will come under your control. By the way, Rev Moon’s children used to refer to Mrs Kim and her people as ‘the witches of Cheongpyeong.’ To put this in perspective there are still over 300,000 shamans or ‘mudangs’ plying their trade in Korea. 



Conferences. After working on some of them I was shown very clearly that all those big science, arts and other conferences actually had no purpose other than glorifying Rev Moon. He wasn’t at all interested in any results from those meetings, only in how many famous people attended.



About 500 million dollars is donated each year by the Japanese church, but where does it all go? What great world-changing projects do you see it used for? Of what use are all these glorious palaces? The one at Cheongpyeong cost over a thousand million dollars. Just think what good could have been done in the world with such funds. This particular palace is now adorned with giant statues of Hak Ja Han with Jesus kneeling before her and a much diminished figure of Sun Myung Moon in obedient attendance. She has effectively created a new religion centered on herself by changing the basic teachings and proclaiming herself as the Only Begotten Daughter of God, the wife of God, the mother of God and God himself/herself. (What kind of mental gymnastics the present members are doing to believe this utter nonsense is beyond me.)



I know each national church lives in its own little bubble, in effect creating its own version of the Unification society and cherry picking which headquarters’ directions to implement. Each country also seems to hold onto its own view of the ‘messiah,’ effectively editing out anything that does not conform to this ideal. However, with the advent of the Internet this can thankfully no longer be the case.

It is the very core of the Unification Church that needs to be examined. The whole church has been built on lies. Even Rev Moon’s life story is full of falsehoods. Remember that picture of him carrying the man on his back; he let it be known for years that it was him before finally admitting it wasn’t.

The stories about Heungnam – I heard a testimony from one of those early disciples where she went to visit him and found him drinking tea in a nearby village! Chung-hwa Pak had been an officer in the military and was put in charge of the prisoners. He designated which tasks the prisoners should do. He was able to give Moon time off so they could talk together about his beliefs. Moon was not always being worked to death as he later stated.


He said he graduated in electrical engineering at Waseda University in Tokyo, but he actually only attended night classes at a technical high school.


The Church made out that Moon was arrested in North Korea for preaching against communism, but the charges were really for bigamy and adultery. Chong-hwa Kim, the married woman involved, was also jailed. His anti-communist stance came much later.



The story about him meeting Jesus on the mountainside is also untrue. It was Seong-do Kim who first told people she’d had these Easter revelations, then Baek-moon Kim claimed them as his, and finally Rev Moon – whose lies gave him away as Easter did not fall on the date he gave for that year. In his most recent account of that meeting he calls Jesus a bastard, and originally taught that Jesus should have had sex with his mother to restore the fall. He also claimed to have met and talked with Buddha, but until his first visit to India he thought Buddha was Chinese. 



The Tragedy of the Six Marys. This book described the pikareum, or womb-cleansing, ceremonies conducted during the early years of the Unification Church. For years we were told it was untrue, but before the book came out in Japan they started giving lectures explaining the providential reasons why Moon had to have sex not only with the Six Marys, but also with all the wives of the 36, 72 and even the 124 couples. Some of the members listening to those lectures left the church afterwards so they stopped giving them, but they started them again in Korea from what I heard.

The Israel Monastery was a pikareum church with Baek-moon Kim doing the womb cleansing by having sex with the female members. Another similar one was the Olive Tree Movement started by Tae-Seon Park. This had 300,000 members and the churches had special rooms to practice the pikareum rituals. So there were plenty of examples of this grotesque idea for Rev Moon to draw on.



The holy wine ceremony is a symbolic sexual act, but for the first years of the church Rev Moon actually had sex with the female members. This is the core of the church and it is both vile and ludicrous.



I don’t say these things lightly because I needed plenty of evidence before I believed them, but I know people in both Japan and Korea who attended lectures where this behavior was justified. In America Hyung Jin and Kook Jin have admitted such things happened. It was admitted by Young Oon Kim, Papasan Choi, Chung-Hwa Pak, President Eu’s cousin (Shin-hee Eu), Annie Choi (the mother of Sam Park), Deok-jin Kim and many others. Rev Yong also went around the world giving lectures explaining the dispensational necessity of such sex practices.



God of Day and God of Night. There used to be a shrine to this primitive Korean god to the east of Seoul. (Moon was incorporating any kind of rubbish into his mythology by the end of his life.)

I could report on even worse activities and crimes but I think this is enough for now. The Divine Principle itself is a wonderful construct, (Hyo-won Eu being something of a genius) the only problem being that it isn’t true. So much of the numerology, four position foundations, triple objective purposes and so on, is actually meaningless. There was no sexual fall and inherited original sin and Satan are non-existent. The history parallels are extremely contrived, and although interesting, prove nothing at all. There are many more aspects of the book that don’t make sense. Some parts of course are helpful, Jesus not coming to die and so on, but none of these are original ideas, so the book certainly doesn’t prove that Moon is the Second Advent.

▲ Baek-moon Kim was born in 1917. He devised the parallels of history.



As predicted nothing happened on Foundation Day apart from a few pointless ceremonies. The church leadership knew this would be the case, which is why they were already telling people to prepare for 2020, the 100th anniversary of Moon’s birth. Mrs Moon is emphasizing witnessing now. (Because tithes are an ongoing source of revenue.) She recently told the Japanese wives in Korea that if they don’t do well then their descendants will pay lots of indemnity. She seems to have forgotten what her husband said on October 27, 1999, ‘No more indemnity is needed. The providence of restoration is completed.’



I personally think anyone still teaching the Divine Principle has to examine all of the above, and then ask themselves if they are just helping to propagate a gigantic destructive fraud? Thousands of people have gone through real suffering to enrich Moon and his family. Many of them had their lives ruined by being matched and married to people they could not relate to. It’s hard to believe but Moon’s church even advertised for any Korean men who wanted wives to come to one of those big blessings – just to make the numbers up, although he charged them between two and ten thousand dollars for each purchased bride. He then matched dedicated Japanese sisters to men who weren’t even church members – some of whom were unemployed drunkards or worse. (One of these wives eventually killed her Korean husband after suffering years of abuse.) Again, ask yourself whether these matchings were the action of a loving father, or an evil despot with no concern at all for the happiness and well-being of others?



If members were matched with someone they could love and be happy with, then they were in the minority, as it was mostly a matter of luck. Remember he matched physical brothers and sisters on at least four occasions that I know of, then changed the matching when he was told about it, so it certainly wasn’t God guiding him.



If people want God in their lives all they have to do is invite him in. Knock and the door will be opened. You don’t need to go to God through Moon or anyone else, and heaven is a place for heavenly people, so if you aren’t heavenly then no blessing, white robe or inseminated wine is going to get you in there.

And just to be clear, arrogance and avarice are not heavenly attributes.



I believe anyone who has sincerely tried to serve God and create a better world has certainly not wasted their time, because God will remember their efforts whatever religion they followed, but the Unification Church, FFWPU, or Hak Ja Han’s new name for it ‘Heavenly Parent’s Holy Community,’ is nothing but a despotic money-making, power-seeking, destructive scam that should not be supported in any way.



My apologies people, no jokes this time, I’m too disgusted by the whole sorry mess.



Sloe Gin

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Newsweek on the many Korean messiahs of the 1970s

Hwang Gook-joo and his orgies

The Divine Principle is constructed to control members

Sun Myung Moon’s Theology of the Fall, Tamar, Jesus and Mary

Sun Myung Moon – Restoration through Incest

Shamanism is at the heart of Sun Myung Moon’s church

Japanese member, Ms. K, was forced to marry Korean man she did not like

Sun Myung Moon makes me feel ashamed to be Korean

The Fall of the House of Moon – New Republic

Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child – Mother Jones

Cult Indoctrination – and the Road to Recovery