#the ability to believe your own feelings are more than shallow

[dreadark]

i don’t like when people say it’s impossible for till to ever love ivan because i need to blame someone for this tragedy and obviously the someone has to be ivan

[thriftingfreak]

Not Enough To Save You

pairing: luke x female!reader

summary: luke isn’t the only one whose mind constantly battles the gods. heavily inspired by american teenager by ethel cain/the entire preachers daughter album

warnings: religious trauma excavated in this fic

———————————————————————

And I’m all alone again.

If there was any time where you stopped believing in the Gods, it was now.

Your back pressed against the wall tightly, feeling the sweat drip down your forehead. Your grip tightened on the painfully heavy dagger in your hand. Your head fell back, shallow breaths coming in and out.

The pain in your arm was unbearable. A basilisk had bitten you deeply. The heat of the wound grew but you refused to look down.

You never did well with blood. The irony laid itself down right away as you were a half-blood. It’s in the title.

Tears brimmed your eyes, no matter how much you prayed to the Gods, they were never going to help you.

You didn’t want to die, not here, not like this. Not with the shame of having a large snake defeat you.

Yet you knew, deep down, you were just another number to them.

Maybe if the Gods had some mercy left in their bones, they could lead you to death to feel well again.

If only Hades could see you now.

Unfortunately you survived the attack, somehow being saved by none other than your fellow quest members.

Luke, being the best swordsmanship at camp, had the ability to slice the Basilisks entire head off.

“You are the only God I believe in” you murmured under your breath as he wrapped up your wound.

From that moment on, you both were hooked. No more putting faith in the make believe. The only faith you held up high, was the faith you had in one another.

Why do I feel alone in this room with you?

Even weeks after, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Whispered whisked around in the air about the God’s and their plans. A long, cold war was coming.

Their own children on the line, but who cares?

At this point in one’s life, people often cling to religion. To Jesus. But you knew the lack thereof.

Luke Castellan became your divinity. You found yourself staring up at the ceiling every cold night, wishing you could suck up his scripture.

When push came to shove, the definition of heed simply left your body.

For your godly genitor may love you, but not enough to save you.

[hero-deserves-to-be-happy]

Let Kel Be Sad: An Analysis on Kel’s struggles to express his negative emotions

Like Hero, Kel is also a “fixer”—he would bend over backwards to solve his friends' problems and stop the world if it would make them happy again, and both him and his brother are such big hearted and generous people who would much rather be the emotional support for others rather than talk about their own problems and make a situation about themselves and their feelings. For Hero, this often involves burying his own feelings and faking happiness, but I don’t think it necessarily means this for Kel, even if he struggles to express his negative emotions.

To me, Kel’s happiness and positivity is genuine, but he dismisses, discounts, and often runs from his sadness when he does experience it.

Let's discuss under the cut.

[Mod Sprinkles made the joke that in another universe I (mod Acacia) would also run a blog called "Let Kel Be Sad" so here are some Kel thoughts. Thanks for indulging my ramblings! 🧡]

Disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions, perceptions, and headcanons about Kel (and Hero). There are a lot of ways his character can be interpreted, and one of the great things about fandom is getting to see different points of view and differing interpretations of characters we all know and love. I know I speak for both Sprinkles and myself when I say we have a lot of respect for that, and for that reason, I want to be upfront that, while I do genuinely believe Kel struggles expressing negative emotions (thus the "Let Kel Be Sad" title), I don't personally view Kel as someone whose happiness is "fake" in the same way as Hero's. I can see the appeal of this interpretation and can understand why people interpret his character in this way, but it personally does not vibe with my personal interpretations, perceptions, and headcanons of Kel and his character, so if you perceive/headcanon Kel in that way, this post probably won't be your cup of tea. Please keep that in mind.

Warnings: OMORI Spoilers and discussion of game-relevant heavier topics such death, trauma, and grief.

Kel wears his heart on his sleeve, but this doesn't mean that he is shallow. He is a big-hearted, deeply empathetic, and incredibly loyal friend, and it cannot be stated enough that one of Kel’s biggest strengths is his ability to use his natural positivity and resilience to lift up those around him. He’s really the hero of the game because none of the healing would have been possible if he hadn’t continued to believe in his friends even after all of this time, hadn’t encouraged them, and hadn’t built them up just by being Kel.

And while I do think Kel does struggle to express vulnerabilities and negative emotions, I don't personally think of Kel's unwavering optimism as a mask. In my mind, Kel is not an emotional repressor or burier in the same way as Hero. In fact, because he wears his heart on his sleeve, he would probably really struggle to fake an emotion he wasn’t feeling (even if it was something positive like happiness). If Kel doesn’t want to express an emotion, I imagine he runs from it and avoids it, since it’s not natural or easy for him to “replace” or “bury” it with a fake one. Whereas Hero is much more reserved and private about his feelings, no matter what they are, so it’s much easier for him to convincingly mask pain and suffering under layers and layers of fake happiness. I just don’t think Kel would be able to hold back those emotions for very long. His negative feelings would eventually just kind of explode out of him without thinking and/or they’d become so apparent from his expressions and/or actions (since he does wear his heart on his sleeve) and everyone (including the player of the game) would know that he had so much negativity under the surface.

This isn't to say that Kel is perfectly fine. He isn't. He has suffered a terrible loss just like everyone else, but I think the game makes it clear that Kel has the most acceptance surrounding Mari's death and that he has made peace with what happened more so than the other main characters. Please keep in mind that this is only relative to the other main cast. Kel may seem "well-adjusted" in comparison to his brother and his friends who are, quite frankly, barely keeping it together, but he would not necessarily be considered well-adjusted in comparison to the non-traumatized townies. I genuinely believe that Kel is still in the process of healing, but relative to the other main cast members, he is farther along in that journey than they are.

And in that way, the game doesn't really give us a moment where Kel is overwhelmed by grief in the same way as the rest of the characters. Yes, there is the scene (one of my personal favorites) where Kel shares about his fight with Hero, and it is incredibly vulnerable and gives a lot of subtly and nuance to his character, but I don't think it's necessarily evidence that the player can't accept Kel as he presents himself to us at face value in the way that we can't accept Hero as he presents himself to us at face value. As I recently discussed in this post, the scene where Sunny finds Hero crying alone at Mari’s piano on the night of "Two Days Left" tells the player that Hero's attempts to appear well-adjusted and "fine" are, at least to a certain extent, all for show. There isn’t a Kel equivalent of this scene which, I personally think, is meant to tell the player of the game that Kel is the most well-adjusted member of his friend group (key words here being "of his friend group") and the one who has the most acceptance surrounding Mari’s death. Additionally, Mod Sprinkles actually made the point that Sunny is extremely perceptive and sensitive to his friends’ feelings and emotions. If Kel was still harboring a lot of negativity surrounding Mari’s death, Sunny likely would have picked up on that and been more hesitant to go outside with him in the first place.

This isn’t to say that Kel doesn’t ever have any negative feelings and that he doesn’t struggle to express those sometimes, but I think this struggle to express “the bad stuff” doesn’t stem from a pressure he feels to be happy all the time. That said, I do wonder sometimes if he is a little scared of feeling sad. He wants to be happy and wants everyone around him to be happy, and I think there is this certain helplessness that he feels when he can’t cheer other people up. We see a little glimpse of that in his account of his & Hero’s fight after Mari’s death. I think watching someone he loved so much go through such a deep and debilitating depression at such a young age probably permanently affected him, and he might have some worries about getting “stuck” like his brother, wallowing in that sadness and grief if he allows himself to feel it.

However, this is an unwarranted fear because Kel and Hero are very different. Even though Kel might feel sad, and his feelings are absolutely valid, I don’t think he’s prone to that level of despair and depression that we see in Hero. Understanding that his experiences and emotional responses are different than his brother’s is a big part of growing up so it might take him a while to realize this, and in the meantime, I could see it possibly manifesting itself as a sort of avoidance of sadness.

Everyone grieves differently. This is a difficult concept for even adults to understand, so I can't imagine how hard it would be for a 12-year-old like Kel. Because Kel didn't grieve Mari in the same way as Hero or his friends and didn’t spiral into the same level of despair and depression as the others, I think he struggles with invalidating his own feelings to himself sometimes--writing them off as shallow and dismissing them to himself as "just not deep enough." Again, I think this goes back to the one (1) fight that Kel and Hero had. We don’t know exactly what they said to each other in that fight, but it’s my personal headcanon that Hero lashed out at Kel for “not understanding” for he felt. From then on, I think Kel really does struggle with this fear that he just doesn’t understand emotions and because of that, any attempts to help his hurting loved ones will only make everything worse.

I’d really like to see him reach a place in which he can accept that even if his feelings and his grief are different and perhaps not as lingeringly overwhelming as the others', that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them and that doesn’t mean he didn’t care about Mari or his friends. In my mind, Kel’s hesitation and worry at expressing his negative feelings and his happy-go-lucky personality can both exist at the same time. I don't think they are mutually exclusive, and I tend to think of Kel as someone who naturally looks on the bright side of things and is genuinely optimistic and uplifting. To deny this feels like a disservice to (my personal perception of) Kel, but I think it is also a disservice to pretend he never feels sadness or any negative feelings at all. There has to be a balance.

Let Kel feel sad when he needs to but recognize that he doesn’t actually need to feel sad all that often.

[comfortless]

pls sir,,,, more dungeoneer konig and knight gf,,,, pls,,,,

why do you guys like seeing him suffer… part 3 of this guy i suppose! what are the sillies up to now….

dungeoneer! König x fem! reader

content/warnings: injury, violence, does it count as animal death if a gnoll dies i wonder…

She’s not entirely as adept as he is with these things, at least, that’s what he’s believed thus far. How could she be? A woman like her belongs in painted portraits adorning castle walls, not down in the dark with rarely little more than blades and sprays of blood for company.

Despite his assessment, when a particularly nasty gnoll manages to land a deep bite into König’s shoulder, it’s her that saves him. The pain is instant, warm salivating fangs digging past all defenses and pushing straight into muscle. The gnoll even has the audacity to huff out what sounds like a whine of delight when warm blood spurts straight into its maw. Perhaps, had he not been so focused on the lady knight, he wouldn’t have made such an error. Even now, rather than moving to overpower his aggressor, he watches her as she weaves through the debris of the tight corridor, her rapier readied at her side.

He’s fortunate that she reacts immediately, driving the sword so deeply into the beast’s guts that König could almost swear he feels the sharpened tip brush over his own tunic before she presses her boot to the gnoll’s spine and pivots backwards to free her blade, now glistening in crimson. It’s gruesome and foul but the look in her eyes is anything but— only tender.

“Thought he went for your neck…” The concern in her voice rings out clear, her hands trembling when she sheaths the blade and takes his arm into both of her own to lead him out of the decrepit dungeon. There’s nothing here apart from cobwebs and enraged monsters, no signs of a treasure promised. It was foolish of him to even drag her out here and now she’s.. caring for him. Oddly enough, this is the first time in a long stretch he’s had any woman willingly do just that without pity or disdain.

He tries to protest; the wound isn’t that bad, just a few punctures where fangs met flesh. Still, she props him against a sturdy oak, straddles his lap as she takes a dagger to begin tearing away his clothes.

“You don’t need to…” He trails off when she begins to clean the wounds, a little hiss of breath from the sudden sting of some pungent alcohol she’s produced from her bag, a sigh of relief when she smears the balm and wraps the wound tightly with a length of silk.

She’s not as indifferent to him as she pretends to be. Not at all.

More often than not his longing stares are met with a curious glance from her, maybe a soft huff of breath when she turns to look away. After his injury, König finds she’s quite affectionate too. She forces him down to kneel in shallow water while she meticulously cleans him, fusses over the wound as though it were her own, telling him he should not move too much lest he irritates it and draws out other beasts with the scent of his blood. She even gives him an almost imperceptible kiss on the cheek once she’s finished.

Come nightfall, she’s migrated from her bed to his own. There are no inns this far out, only rolling fields and forests. They’re camped out in the open, a horrid idea in the event of bandits, but she insists on watching over him through the night— if anyone comes, they’ll be struck down by this cocky, vigilant lady. He doesn’t doubt her ability anymore.

Their torches have long since burned out, and seeing as she won’t allow him to do so much as brush his hair from his face, stoking a fire seems out of the question. The glow of the moon provides enough visibility for her to see he isn’t clammy and feverish from infection, and that’s satisfying enough for her.

When dawn rises, a soft yellow glow dimmed by pillowy white clouds, König finds her not awake, but curled against his side, still wearing that heavy armor. Though there’s still a dull ache in his shoulder, one that screams he’ll be reprimanded if caught, he diligently works at the straps and buckles to free it from all but her chest before she stirs. When those eyes stare up at him, his heart flutters in a way he’s not so sure it ever had before. There’s always a tingle during an invigorating battle or the wave of excitement that washes over him when he takes his first step to descend into a dark crypt.

This is different.

He finds that it’s not just a blistering lust he feels for her anymore, but an unwavering sense of belonging at her side.

“… told you not to move,” she grumbles, batting his hands away as they rest over the straps along her shoulders. He could never fully place why she looks so different without heavy steel securing her, like a drab cocoon cracking open to reveal an achingly beautiful butterfly. “You should still be sleeping.”

“Ja, but you looked uncomfortable.”

“I’m not even supposed to be asleep.” Follows it up with a laugh that breezes like the most gentle song to his ears.

When they begin to gather their things to move on to the next destination, a small village near the coast, he realizes just what this bizarre feeling is. It’s love, or at least the closest to it that he still believes in.

“Is it against your code to marry?,” he asks, nonchalant as their next journey begins.

She’s busying herself looking over the map, her fingertips ghosting over the weathered parchment ad if the carve a path. The question doesn’t register for a moment, but when it does, her brow raises slightly in confusion.

“You know that I’m not a knight, König.”

“You are to me.”

She pauses for a moment, nearly dropping the map as her steps come to a sudden halt. She rolls the parchment back up, glancing away from him then.

“Then no, I suppose it’s not.”

[horizon-verizon]

The whole Alysanne/Viserra conflict is so bizarre I’m not sure why GRRM wrote it like that. Alysanne fears Viserra wants a crown…even though Aemon is still alive and Baelon hasn’t been named heir yet. Alysanne weeps for Daella dead at 18, blaming Jaehaerys for having her wed at too early of an age…but then pushes Viserra into a betrothal that causes her death at 15, again with a man older than Jaehaerys in the dreary and boring North, widowed 4 times and already with 5 children. Marrying an older brother for politics isn’t acceptable…even though Aegon the Uncrowed/Rhaena & Aegon/Visenya did it, plus she and Jaehaerys did it in defiance of their guardians, but I guess it’s so much better because of true love. Viserra is said to be a manipulator and committed alcoholic by 14, not even liking boys, but using her looks to get them to fight for her…yet her ambition is to go after Baelon, the man with two healthy trueborn sons already, 14 years older than her, not yet the heir with Aemon alive. How much influence could Viserra possibly have even if she did marry him at the time ? Obviously she had some attraction to him, if she wanted to seduce him (let me just roll my eyes at the mother trying to protect her nearly 30 year old son with 2 children from a “seductive” 15 year old girl…it’s pathetic) with all of the drawbacks. Alysanne’s view of her just makes no sense for her character or the timeline of events. But Viserra is so one dimensionally vain and openly ambitious (even when it contradicts itself, like surrounding herself with boys while having her eyes on Baelon) that she doesn’t come across as a person. It’s like the worst anti’s view of Cersei.

*EDITED POST* (4/17/24)

I recently wrote a Tweet about Alysanne vs Rhaena HERE, & the legacy of women/family destroying the other. And I have a Tumblr post abt Alysanne and her daughters HERE.

I don't know about your points about Alysanne's inconsistency, since I can see it happening in real life from the women I know or interacted with, their hypocrisies & self-defeating compromises. I do, however, see something in your critique of Viserra's writing. I'm offering a set of headcanons based on the knowledge that women are still subject to promoting patriarchy while also trying their best to look out for women's survival and/or rights, especially when their ability to even do that depends on their connection/support/allowance on certain sorts of male authority:

A) Alysanne's Attitude towards her Daughters

This is the passage anon refers to for Alysanne's grief over Daella being too young & her blaming Jaehaerys ("Policy, Progeny, and Pain"):

Watsonianly, I believe GRRM reasoned that Alysanne was less willing to not ship off Viserra because she compared her "slyness" and seeming confidence to Daella's timidity and seeming helplessness and concluded that Viserra was more needing of containment, less needing of her protection and partly because she had more of a will of her own towards her marriage. Viserra, more than Daella, was maybe perceived more as a trip of Alysanne's authority as both mother and a Queen in the face of Jaehaerys'....less charitable and constrictive privileges over Alysanne's earnest desire for women to advance more in the realm and especially in the monarchy itself (heir buisness). She was way more "eager" to have her away than she was for Daella.

I also say in my Twitter post these:

Alysanne looked at Viserra wanting to be Queen as insulting to the feeling that ALL the family should mourn & respect Alyssa's passing, not just her seemingly "protecting" her son from Viserra's shamed "preening" & demonizing her daughter for the sake of a male child she favored. Perhaps Aysanne felt Viserra showed she did not care about Alyssa as much as she should have. perhaps she resented Viserra for showing how shallow the bonds b/t the siblings actually were due to the age differences & how little we actually hear of the 1st set of kids interacting w/the 2nd. Perhaps Alysanne thought this reflected a failure on her part as a mother. maybe she partly resented Viserra for not "respecting" the boundaries of a man's posthumous grieving for seemingly one of her favorite kids...certainly she preferred/made more time for Baelon & Alyssa over Viserra, Vaegon, Saera, even though she definitely loved all her kids.

Alysanne perhaps saw in Baelyssa her own marriage with Jaehaerys AND it's "success" proved their joined right to rule/soulmatism (their union created another perfect, happy union & thus and wanting to believe their marriage was perfect, couldn't tolerate any corruption to that...unconsciously). By desiring Baelon for queenship, Viserra--to Alysanne--again does a "taboo" against Alysanne's private-public relation order. She may have taken it very personally (2nd line after "PLUS" in paragragph below).

But most importantly after Saera's "scandal" & Daella's will against a more routine marriage arrangement/determination to find a husband on her own terms, I think the fear of Viserra "ruining herself, being separated forever from the family like Saera (the North is better than Essos), and ruining the family's/Jaehaerys' prospects PLUS her own experience of helplessness transformed into her needing to direct and arrange the circumstances that she did for Viserra. As well as look at her like she was an issue to be reconsolidated more than a child even though she also did seem to love her. It's possible she justified to herself that Viserra would always be as close as she can be.

Marriage is not just about the couple's happiness--the first priority is actually usually for the respective families' politics and it is a business move. There were political incentives for her to marry Theomore Manderly--the old lord of White Harbor in the North that weren't there for Daella marrying Rodrik Arryn. Theomore was a Seven-faithful vassal to the lords Stark. Jaehaerys had severely angered the Lord of Winterfell, and even though Alysanne made him more amicable, the lord liked her better than Jaehaerys and Jaehaerys seemed too anxious to always make sure the North remained less willing to see the Targs as enemies, which a marriage would do. In one of the last 4 pics below, we see Alysanne try to convince Alaric to have one of his family marry some woman of her choosing.: (A Surfeit of Rulers"; "Triumphs and Tragedies").

vs

Some might argue why he didn't allow Daella to marry a Stark: one, she already had the chance to marry an old gods worshiper, Royce Blackwood, but once she found out about the house still worshipping the old gods, she refused the marriage saying she didn't want to go to hell; two, I do not think the Starks even had eligible sons at the time when they were deciding who she'd marry. Neither Rodrik Arryn's loyalty nor his positive feelings towards the crown were doubted.

Plus, Jaehaerys was growing much more impatient and fed up with Daella than he did with Viserra because of Daella's constant refusing to marry any lord that was chosen for her which I don't fault her too much for, some were questionable ("Policy, Progeny, and Pain"):

So again, I think that Alysanne grew more wary & frustrated with his dismissiveness to the point where she became much more protective and also caring or attentive towards Daella in a way she wasn't for Saera or Viserra because the latter both acted more independently or self-soothed. Alysanne also might have seemed to/might have that Viserra--in her "sly" willfulness ("oh, you think you're grown?") didn't deserve or need her protection as much as Daella did, even though Viserra was younger when she arranged the marriage. The eagerness for Daella's departure came more from Jaehaerys than Alysanne, while for Viserra, it was more Alysanne's own negative feelings driving her arrangements. So on Alysanne's end, it's easier or more obvious to blame Jaehaerys for Daella than it is herself for either Viserra or Saera. Though for Saera, though I blame both, I still blame Jaehaerys more and while it was certainly Alysanne's doing to arrange Viserra for the old-guy-with-four-kids Theomore, it came after the heels of the "trouble" with Daella's marriage.

PLUS they came after the group of kids Jae & Aly had & already gave their most emotionally energetic years to (I mentioned in another post that you are less able to practically give your love to more than 4-5 kids, esp if you are devoted to your job, profession, or duties as these two parents were). Daella died in 82 A.C. while Viserra died in 87 A.C. And though they are part both of the second set of kids Aly & Jae had together (the first set Daenerys, Aemon, Baelon, & Alyssa), even within this set the age difference b/t Daella and Viserra was 7 years.

While Alysanne observed their kids more than Jaehaerys and knew what they did and stuff, she also was herself "tired" or less willing to accommodate more deemed "disruptive" personalities even though she loved all her kids. Why? Again, too many kids, her using marriage (as Visenya & Rhaenys did) as a more political tool than one to totally satisfy her daughters' personal preferences, and a less interested-domestically-participating husband while trying to participate in politics herself but also expected to be the head of child nurturing simultaneously. The ones that can be more "managed", the more able/willing Alysanne will be sympathetic towards them or fight with Jaehaerys over their futures.

Therefore, it seemed Alysanne was a lot more eager & self-convinced to "get rid of" Viserra than she ever was for Daella because of the different pressures from her husband, her conclusions about their daughters' characters, and her own stake in the policy-making she wanted to participate in even though she expressed. Women can be like this, semi-subtly & subtly perpetuating patriarchal limitations thinking that it is "for the best" while really using the subject's seeming or real noncompliance with socialized gender ideology and behaviors.

Also, though Aegon V and Betha Blackwood married for love, they insisted that their kids marry for politics and by their direction anyway. Parents/leaders often compromise their own previous actions or intentions for the present necessities or perceived "greater" needs. Jaehaerys himself cites how he doesn't like how Alyssa Velaryon & Rogar Baratheon both seek to control him...and then he goes on to do this to his own kids. 🤷🏼‍♂️

B) Viserra's Desire isn't all that Vain

1.

You:

But Viserra is so one dimensionally vain and openly ambitious (even when it contradicts itself, like surrounding herself with boys while having her eyes on Baelon) that she doesn’t come across as a person. It’s like the worst anti’s view of Cersei.

a)

Yes, it is like the worst anti's view. Because an anti is writing about her. It is their perspective & Fire and Blood is written in hindsight, written around Robert Baratheon's time.

When we talk about her being "one-dimensionally vain", it comes down to the Unreliable narrator and the lack of grace they afford to her. Not saying she wasn't vain...but she had a lot of good motivation to rely on looks.

Viserra was 15 when she died. Fifteen-year-olds hardly know themselves, compared to those above 18, at least. And they tend to be a lot more self-concerned or confrontational, rebellious, testing the social limits of whatever, etc. But they also can still use reasoning and draw conclusions about their society's implications for them based on their roles to get what they want or to oppose legitimately unfair restrictions against them.

Viserra was a female royal of parents who some might describe as "workaholics", determined to politick their way into maintaining the dynasty, and as I mentioned above, Viserra was part of the latter, less-emotionally-attended-to brood. Her role, as we see how Jaehaerys treated Saera, was to marry & reproduce and not do as her brothers Aemon & Baelon did which was to work with Jaehaerys & work together in anticipation of becoming the next leaders of said dynasty and Westeros.

As a princess who'd not politically trained similarly as her brothers and after being taught/directed by Septas, learning how to become a lady of a court for when she marries she's got little comparatively to do other than, hang out with other girls of the court & any willing siblings, read, play games, dance, maybe ride horses and hunt, etc. she's got comparatively bigger slots of time to herself and perhaps be a bit lonely. Especially when she has parents who worked often. We don't see nor hear of her actually having close relationships with any of her siblings: Maegelle, Alyssa, Baelon, and Aemon are adults with families of their own or out of the keep in other ligelong devotions; Vaegon is, I believe a maester by the time she was about to married off, and still, he wasn't interested in any of his siblings; Daella seemed...more attached to Alysanne and not that engaging; Saera, it's said, that NONE of her sister liked, which includes Viserra; Gael hadn't been born until 80 A.C., and was 7 when Viserra was 15.

Viserra was not hopelessly stupid--it's implied that she, like Saera, wanted more autonomy and/or political power. And like every other royal or noble girl, she did not really interact with people outside KL or the Red Keep that she could or was allowed to. Perhaps. As I mentioned, she's not out of KL at all, spending her relatively contained life in the castle or in illicit adventures with her followers. Baelon is not only familiar and a more predictable option to Viserra, but he'd be more willing than any other candidate to treat her respectfully for the sibling tie/his disposition. No, she doesn't love him, but she doesn't seem as romantic or idealistic as 13-year-old Alysanne was like. Yeah, attracted to Baelon, but not in love or nor yearning for him as Alyssa did, as Alysanne was. Which yes, would read as her being less "worthy" of Baelon to Alysanne--even though I think Alysanne still saw/sees Jaehaerys' reign as righteous and herself destined to not just be his Queen but to be Queen, for her own ambitions to shape Westeros through him.

Viserra may have seen through her Aysanne's influence, self-confidence, and comfort with wielding what little influence she had over Jaehaerys power that a Queen Consort can do a lot, and that a woman can have "more". Baelon is trained under their father, Jaehaerys...perhaps Baelon will also let her have as much or close influence?

And she knows that in her society, a girl's looks are one of her greatest currencies towards access to a man's power because a girl's looks are what draws a man...besides their rank or family's money/political prospects. But a man will really care about a wife in this society if she's exceptionally or conventionally attractive, as long as she is publicly recognized as attractive. This plus what I mentioned about her not having any granted access to real political activity is thus part of why her vanity is one of the most potent we read in Fire and Blood. If her beauty, rank, and Targness are what she has that gets her what she wants and what she is barred from without, she's going to emphasize and rely on them.

And/or she just loves being beautiful. It's a weird state of being for girls, when they have beauty. Beauty for women & girls tends to fall subject to objectification/currency and a way to trap them in a catch-22 of being perceived as "arrogant" (if they actually acknowledge and celebrate their beauty) vs "having no self-respect/untrustworthy"(if they do not cultivate their beauty or insist--whether genuinely or not--that they do not see themselves as attractive or that attractiveness doesn't really matter). Their beauty can be used for social currency & access to wealthier men's privileges and rights than both women deemed less attractive AND men. Men especially tend to believe that women actually do not go through much hardship bc it's "easy" to have others "take care of" you--as a woman, and esp a pretty woman, you are "in demand" & "don't have to work". Not realizing maintaining beauty does take focus, attention, time AND it can still get objectifying uniquely for women. That beautification is a process & women more than men are expected to do it or have no value at all, while men do not have to be pretty to be respected, though it certainly adds points even to other men.

All of these things, the first level of the narrator--the maesters writing this record--do not consider, because she is a girl with little policy-making or incumbent power, nor does she ever become like Alysanne, supporting and advising a powerful man. No, she is not really treated as a person. They, unlike Septon Barth explaining Saera's motives at the time, not hundreds of years later, do not break down Viserra's.

b)

But Viserra is so one dimensionally vain and openly ambitious (even when it contradicts itself, like surrounding herself with boys while having her eyes on Baelon) that she doesn’t come across as a person.

Let's take this as it is for a second. The girl is fifteen and a princess. Again, fifteen-year-olds are already not that...idk, shrewd? Esp with such a high status or privileges and getting a lot of admiration when their parents may not give them much attention [Saera again], Viserra would have maybe used the male attention for her confidence level, and rationalized it as her due, as she already says she knows she's beautiful when some lord or something says that. Again, reliance on beauty PLUS teenhood with nothing else for her to do with herself. It's a fascinating intersection.

The male admirers thing & seemingly contradiction of attention thing. She, like Saera, led a group of followers/admirers similar, perhaps wishing to emulate a Queen's household or at least to borrow a kind of retinue to mimic that/set up through these male admirers. As I explained about isolation, a girls' beauty, and her possible loneliness, yes sometimes people do not-so-smart things to feel a little less lonely or validated. I know a person who, at high school, actually tried to "seduce" their history teacher. wild stuff, but it came from a place of severe insecurity, which was fostered by misogyny and neglect at home. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Again, she could have rationalized it as her "practicing" "holding court" for the future or affirming her ability to get such admirers. That itself is an attempt at power-denied or trivialized.

c)

Now, let's consider how Viserra rationalized Baelon seeing her with her male admirers. If Alysanne and Jaehaerys weren't too concerned and Baelon was busy or inattentive, then Baelon wouldn't be that suspicious of her virginity...nor care all that much. She's still his sister and Baelon is presumably the least prideful/machismo of all his brothers except maybe Aemon and we don't even know that much of Aemon.

If anything, she might have thought that if Baelon did see these male courtiers around her, that raises her "value", bc these guys think she's pretty enough. Baelon, as a man, must too--if he only really looked at me. If the court gossip about it is true, this would have motivated her into "forcing" her to look at her by catching him with her clothes off. Why getting drunk? Because she is 15, a virgin, never has tried something like this before, and thus sought out liquid courage. She was also very anxious about being married off to Theomore and felt pressure to get Baelon to marry her instead, so the alcohol was also to reduce her fears so she could seem more in control....until she got carried away. Again, IF the gossip has truth.

And yes, some men of power do look at how other men see a women's beauty to evaluate how much social status she'd be to him if he partnered up with her. "Trophy wives" came from somewhere. Plus, men often validate themselves through other men's evaluation of them and whatever they can claim control over or claim, which is nearly often women and "lineage", real or not real.

2.

You:

yet her ambition is to go after Baelon, the man with two healthy trueborn sons already, 14 years older than her, not yet the heir with Aemon alive. How much influence could Viserra possibly have even if she did marry him at the time ? [...] (let me just roll my eyes at the mother trying to protect her nearly 30 year old son with 2 children from a “seductive” 15 year old girl…it’s pathetic) with all of the drawbacks.

Now I don't know if Viserra knew much about the actual ins-and-outs of Visenya and Aegon I's relationship (we don't we just know she was active in politics and loyal and confident and bold) or if she actually put as much thought into this as I have below, but I do think she felt she just had more of a chance to not be subject to others' authority the closest she could be to the highest authority available to women and that if she thought Baelon would be king, it's because Aemon had no male heirs.

From how Saera at least knew that Maegor had 6 wives and presumably their names and what their recorded actions/legacies were, Viserra also would likely have known about Visenya and Rhaena as was recorded by the maesters. More or less what we the readers know, if not a bit more. there would be several accounts written of Rhaena and Visenya, but we don't have that, we have just AWoIaF, Fire and Blood (which was written around Robert's time), and whatever random stuff from the main series.

Baelon already having two sons would seem to contradict Viserra pursuing him just for power. However, maybe:

[Aemon & Jocelyn marry in 70 A.C. Rhaenys was born in 74 A.C. Aemon dies in 92 A.C., so Rhaenys was 18 when he died and she was 13 in 87, when Viserra dies.] In the 13 years Rhaenys was alive, Jocelyn never birthed another kid. And after Rhaenys, the couple enjoyed many years together before Aemon's death, so they all probably thought her infertile. Jocelyn and Aemon had no sons. So, yes, people could have thought Baelon would eventually become the heir apparent to Aemon. And Jaehaerys never went out and declared it until Aemon's death, but he also never declared or approved Aemon's daughter Rhaenys being heir to the heir to the throne...ever. Despite some people praising Rhaenys as the next ruler after her birth. This is where Viserra/a reader could come from is perhaps coming from, if just to rationalize. This sort of almost panicky rationalization so pretty perfect for a girl who desperately did not want to marry a really old man.

part of Baelon's draw would be because, as I mentioned, familiarity, security, and assurance of his taking care of her/non-abusiveness or non-suppressiveness. That comes with or without sons/kids. Even with Aemon being alive.

she'd be escaping a much, too old guy that lives too far from King's Landing, the only home she's ever known and her parents gave her no other options

Women both in real and Westerosi history still relatively benefit from being married over being unmarried in some ways in feudal/monarchial/highly-patriarchal systems. Sometimes even when their marriage has had no children.

Viserra can birth children later after marriage (again, she was 15 and had a lot of childbearing years in her--as gross as that sounds--in the context of the society where she lives). No matter how back in the line of succession those kids with Baelon would be, having shared legitimate kids with the monarch/heir secures her staying married to him and thus secures her own position as one of the highest-ranking woman in Westeros, which is the aim of her marrying Baelon. Because less of her life is determined by others and she is one of the women who has the highest authorities.

Even though Baelon already had sons, she'd still be his Queen Consort, no matter what. After he dies, she'd still become a "Queen Dowager", as Rhaena, Visenya, etc. were. Visenya had Aegon's younger son...still Queen Dowager and a force to be reckoned with in court. Rhaena was once feared (unjustly) by Alyssa Velaryon, Rogar Baratheon, and her own parents--Alysanne & Jaehaerys. Rhaena and Maegor never had kids (thank god), but Rhaena was a Queen Dowager with her own ability to set up a household & direct men & women as if she were a roaming, quasi--Queen Regnant (which inspired the fear in her own family).

Alicent plays a similar game with marrying Viserys. She knows, like everyone else, that to marry a King, you become "first lady" of the realm. And becoming the mother to the next King, you definitely become the most powerful woman in the realm--before any princesses or Dowager Queens of the past Kings. But even if she didn't have Viserys' kids, she'd still have been a Queen Dowager. Alicent managed to bear 4 kids for Viserys, 3 of them male. Technically she should have enjoyed the certainty of being that "most powerful woman" by having a son as King. But unfortunately for her, Viserys had a daughter whom he named his heir and maintained her above Alicent's sons in the succession line. Having no kids or sons is not the absolute end of the world for a woman seeking power in Westeros through marrying the royal family, but Alicent wanted the surety of her sons being King. As we see Visenya has more power than Rhaena.

Viserra would have been the stepmother of Daemon & Viserys, but she'd still be a parental figure, raising them (or doing the bare minimum) PLUS their aunt by blood. She still has access to power through them after Baelon dies if she plays her cards right, esp if she has just daughters or never had legitimate kids. And if she has kids, those kids are sibling-cousins to Viserys/Daemon/the future probable King. As long as it doesn't devolve into a green-black situation (which it likely wouldn't, not with her being a Targ already and not so devoted to the Faith as Alicent), she can enjoy and feel secure her stepkids/nephews will treat her own children/her well.

Either way, she has a better deal being the Queen consort, then a Queen dowager, than being a lady-wife to some lord--in her perception and what she's observed has learned so far without knowing of the various lords' holdings or how much power she'd had outside her own family. Again, she doesn't travel and is likely not to have heard any comprehensive details of any lords outside the Keep. Broad strokes, little detail.

Someone said in a TikTok once--I think GoThistorian--that Cersei might have fared better if she married Oberyn Martell and not a royal like Robert or Rhaegar because in Dorne noblewomen have so much more value, authority, & autonomy even as not a lady regnant nor a Princess, which was what Cersei needed above all else. Her mother, Joanna, actually seemed to have started or was planning for her to marry a Dornish person when we hear she was friends with the Princess of Dorne and the trouble with Aerys'...attentions towards her. Viserra--for the moment we see her--is somewhat like Cersei here in that she wants more access to power than she does. Cersei dreamed of being Rhaegar's wife and wanted to be Robert's because she wanted that access above any romances. Viserra, same.

Some real noble women have become the mistresses of kings--whether the parties involved were already married themselves and/or had kids already or not--even though their kids would inevitably be illegitimate. Whether more by their own choice or by the insistence and arrangement of their families.

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday + "Your OC as cannibalism"

Tagged by @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @strafethesesinners @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @bitchofedensgate @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @vasiktomis @voidika @onehornedbeast @nightbloodbix @afarcryfrommymain @corvosattano @deputyash @deputy-morgan-malone @cassietrn @chazz-anova @softtidesworld @derelictheretic @ladyoriza @minilev @wrathfulrook @neverthesameneveranother @henbased @thewanderer-000 @fourlittleseedlings @vampireninjabunnies-blog @skoll-sun-eater and @dephellseed

Music for a story in The UnTitledverse, while the quizzes will be for three characters from the other series. You can find the quiz here. Song and results below the cut.

This song, although generally a FNAF song, somehow managed to fit Calvin's story in The Dark Awakening, a planned sequel of A Blast In The Past, where he discovers the truth behind his state of purgatory, who's behind it, and how to escape it.

"In a loop inside the screen Your own prison in a dream Try to run and try to scream Even death can't save you, we

Replay your nightmare Replay, play, play your nightmare Replay your nightmare Replay, play, play your nightmare

Get in a cage While we rattle it While we rattle it Our eternal revenge We know what you did We know what you did It's Me, It's me, it's me We're all here just for you Get in a cage While we rattle it While we rattle it FOREVER

Torture, torture, don't you know How your seeds of evil grow?

Replay your nightmare 'Cause tables turn Replay your nightmare And it's your time to hurt."

On to the quiz results! For antagonists no less!

Paul Yellowjack (Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Old Dusk the New Dawn Arc)

Paul just got called out. While his... diet in Old Dusk is more literal, this result does reveal a bit about himself. Paul's (familial) love for Silva is strong and without a doubt true, however, its this co-dependence which leads his love to become obsessive, as if he is the only one that understands her. While he knows her more than most, he hasn't known how much she's changed from the young woman he watched grow up on the Archipelagos. He longs for their connection, even when he himself admits that he does not deserve it, its the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. The "believed in magic" part comes to cruelly bite him in the ass when he is (reincarnated? resurrected? restored with horrifying abilities? IDK) and now as a swarm of wasps must seek out bodies/corpses in order to feed/puppeteer around and interact with people.

Frederick Rosemary (Life, Despair & Monsters)

I'd feel bad for him if I didn't know just how disgusting of a character he is. Frederick is all for going for the "fine" and forbidden/taboo things in life. His emptiness leads him to going the deep end of making people (especially children's) lives as miserable as possible. This man is wanted by the feds and would be on a watch list if it was common knowledge he was alive and some kind of cyborg. The fact Malvolio of all people sees him as a friend and close companion should tip off how screwed up this man is.

Aggravor the Accursed (A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore, a Fallout fanfic series)

Aggravor is a nearly 3,000 year old human-turned-Lich that worked alongside a powerful inhuman warlock (from another dimension) named Arcane Urias, becoming one of the first official disciples of the Occult, a cult Urias founded to worship the Mad God of Carnage, Discord. Aggravor is being tutored under Urias' wing to learn more about older magic, beyond the basics and newest spells. Aggravor wants to become something more than what he originally was. He wants to be remembered as the most powerful spellcaster and curse-user who either succeeded or was second best to the likes of Urias and the Court King. Aggravor even manages to defeat or even fatally take out powerful casters like the Pumpkin King (an old-world supernatural being from medieval times) and Ore Brantley (one of Urias rebellious children). He was however outclassed and lost an eye in a fight with Ress Bishop (Urias remaining rebellious child). A thousand years later, he does achieve his life-long goal, for however short it is.

[wobspots]

i writ 😎

(this is a first draft dont look too close) (also the formatting is all janky but again. first draft) (i also used the comic sans trick and i actually think it made it a lot easier!!) (hehe :3)

           Entering the infirmary, the common-born surgeon of the Band of the Hawk can’t help but to be a bit awestruck – the interior looked almost like a cathedral’s. The high ceiling, ample space and polished marble floors combined to echo the small group’s hurried steps, their boots still dirty from the battlefield and the travel back to Windham Castle.

         The steely royal physician awaited them. Greying hair tied back, apron utterly spotless and leather gloves already on: he stood beside a rolling table whereon his tools were neatly set. He seemed admirable, professional, absolutely confident in his abilities. However, as with any serious job, he is a bit nervous and makes a conscious effort to hide it, for the sake of the patient. That, in this case, being the Hawks’ very own commander, Griffith.

– Here, gentlemen, set him down, if you will – the doctor motions to a bed more luxurious than any the soldiers had seen before, despite being only temporary.

Griffith tried to help his comrades transfer him from the stretcher to the bed, moving as little as possible. He dared not to speak; it was hard enough for him to breathe as it is. That is the first thing the older man notices in meeting Griffith. The second, of course, is his beauty. He had seen the illustrious white falcon a few times around the castle and at court affairs, but never had the chance to get close. “He really does look like an angel, or a doll... something undoubtedly beautiful, but fearsome, in a way.” – he thinks, before catching himself staring. He clears his throat.

– Sir Griffith, gentlemen, I am Doctor Lazarus. It is a pleasure to meet you, occasion aside.

         The young commander only nods, his breath shallow. He didn’t like it, to be fully conscious but have both his movement and speech restricted. The pain that stabbed in his ribs whenever he inhaled didn’t help, either. For the past four days of travel, he had to balance out the pain of a proper breath with the feeling of not getting enough air. Now, he was so focused on it that he could hardly keep up with both medics’ conversation.

         – Well, then. What happened?

         – He was thrown against a wall, Sir. Hit his back – they don’t look at each other as they speak, too busy undressing the patient. This could have been awkward if Griffith wasn’t used to being naked in front of others, and the doctors weren’t, well, doctors. – I believe he’s broken a few ribs, but nothing more. There’s a nasty bruise, but it doesn’t seem to be any notable bleeding.

         – Right. Were the fractures displaced?

         – A bit, but we set them right after the battle was over.

         – I see. Sir, please lift your elbows – Griffith does his best, allowing the royal physician to get a better look at his ribcage as he circles around the infirmary bed. There is a dark, ugly bruise along most of Griffith’s back; one he’d be glad he’s not able to see. Lazarus brushes the locks of white hair over the knight’s shoulder to see it in full. In that, he notices a section stained reddish-brown, and reaches out to feel the scalp around it – And the head?

         – Hit the ground when he fell. Knocked him out, but he awoke later with no other issues. –  Lazarus furrows his brows, making the field surgeon waiver – It looks worse than it actually is, Sir! We were also running low on water, so…

         – No, no, I understand. – Lazarus is reassuring –Was the bleeding excessive?

         – Not for a head injury, no.

         – Hmm…

         With a soft “excuse me, Sir”, Lazarus cups Griffith’s face in both hands, getting a bit closer. If this is a bit uncomfortable, the physician doesn’t notice, as he’s fully focused on the job at hand. He examines Griffith’s eyes, one at a time, gently pulling his lower eyelids down to see the underlying tissue.

– Looks pale… – he mumbles, more to himself than anyone else.          Right as Lazarus starts to feel in his own element, Griffith meets his eye. He doesn’t mean to, they’re just so close and he’s so curious about this promising stranger but can’t say anything…! Even so, he can’t help but feel a bit proud when the doctor freezes under his gaze.

Lazarus, on the other hand, is thoroughly unsettled, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. It’s a good thing he’s good at concealing his thoughts – it’s a vital skill, as a healer – it’s important to exude a sense of welcome safety for the patient, transmitting them the feeling that their caretaker has the situation utterly under control, even if that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Unfortunately for him, that is not enough to thwart Griffith’s sharp eye for deception/farces/insincerity – takes one to know one, after all. A sly glimmer runs through his eye: Griffith has power over this man, and he’s going to make the absolute most of it.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Equipment Testing

Plo Koon x FemReader

Word Count: 1146

Warnings: Adult Content 18+ NSFW

You’d never been to Plo’s home planet before, so you had no idea what to expect. You’d read up as much as you could, but the only thing worrying you was the fact that you needed to wear a mask at all times. The air didn’t have the ability to sustain human life, being made up of mostly Dorin Gas.

    Plo had assured you a thousand times that as long as you wore your mask, you would be fine, but there was still something terrifying about the only thing between you and suffocation was the apparatus covering your nose and mouth.

    You managed to keep yourself calm enough to meet Plo’s family, they were wonderfully welcoming and fascinating people. You learnt so much about Plo’s kind and all the things they deemed important. The Kel Dor community was incredibly peaceful, quicker to diplomacy rather than anger and valuing wisdom over rash action. They were such a family loving people and it got you wondering about how much Plo missed his home.

    ‘I always allow myself moments to think on them,’ Plo told you as he guided you around his village. ‘But only moments. My duty to the Order is far too important.’

    Plo was relieved to have taken his mask off, indents were visible where the air tight device clung to his face and you felt incredibly sorry that he had to go through such difficulty to simply survive off world. But he never complained, not once.

    He could still sense your worry about your own mask, there was no reason to think it would break, but the thought still haunted the back of your mind. The nights on Dorin were freezing, the days were hot, but it didn’t seem to bother the Kel Dor as much as it did you. Luckily Plo was well aware of your anatomical needs.

     He closed the door to his room and gestured to the window seat so that you could watch the suns descend. It was beautiful, nothing quite like the bright red sky lighting up every corner of the village. Stunning.

    But still you worried. Every breath you inhaled from your mask, worried you that it might not last.

    ‘Perhaps you need a distraction.’ Plo suggested, his fingers gliding up your leg. ‘You seem anxious to breathe normally, I believe I know how we may reinforce your faith in your mask.’

    ‘Oh really?’ You raised your eyebrow, interested to know where exactly he was going with that statement.

    ‘I confess another reason I brought you here.’ Plo moved closer to you making you warm up immediately. His pale, marble like eyes took in your body and his breathing had gone shallow. You knew exactly what was on his mind.

    ‘You know that I won’t be able to use my mouth.’ You smiled, tilting your head.

    ‘I am aware.’ Without the barrier of his anti-ox mask, Plo was able to show his facial expressions more clearly and it looked like a blessed relief for him. ‘Lie down for me.’

    He rarely had to ask you twice for anything. Plo made you feel more than you ever thought you could feel, it made you put a trust in him like no other.

    You moved away from the window and lay back on his warm, soft bed. Plo brought the blind down and tapped the lamp so that soft, yellow light illuminated the room. He stood at the edge, moving himself between your knees and smiled down at you.

    Plo was slow and co-ordinated, removing your clothes, letting his hands drift over the skin, encouraging you to relax, to simply feel and to not feel as if you owed anything in return. He worshipped every part of your body, delicately and gently, soon bringing his mouth into the equation, again flooding your sense with warm desire.

    His soft tendrils that were normally hidden, began sweeping over the skin, eliciting sounds of pleasure from your chest.

    Plo needed to be careful, he’d told you that sometimes the way Kel Dor’s make love could be overstimulating at best. He’d wanted to do this for some time, but with his anatomy not allowing for it beyond Dorin and the added obstacle of your much more fragile human physiology, nothing about your relationship had been easy or rushed.

    Plo slowed down once again, knowing he needed to get this right, but sooner than he expected, your body was writhing for more. You wanted more than he was giving. Plo listened to your body, sitting on the edge of your mind, checking you were okay at all times.

    ‘Relax.’ He breathed, his tendrils sending hot rushes straight to your core as he descended down your stomach. Your hands grasped the sheets of the bed as he continued down your body, pushing your legs apart and allowing you one last moment before letting his tendrils drift over your core.

    Plo slowed for his own sake as much as yours, the one thing he’d always wanted was to taste you, to make you come using his mouth and tendrils; he wasn’t about to rush the opportunity. Your legs were already quaking with the power he had over you, electric bolts of heat were shooting through your body, making you pant and moan his name.

    You felt his ridged tongue slide through your folds and heard his groan into you. How had you never even thought of this? Every time you and Plo were together, it was you going down on him and for the most part, you enjoyed it, the only downside was his size made your jaw hurt far too quickly.

    This was something else altogether.

    Plo’s technique seemed to be the louder you responded the more he was attracted to repeating the action. He was in full control of your body in a way that had you forgetting everything that wasn’t him, until finally you were there, coming undone against his mouth.

    You began to breathe a little steadier than before, your body taking in everything Plo had made you feel, the sensitive tingling in your limbs, the fog in your brain and the quiet bliss that followed.

    You managed to open your eyes to see Plo smiling above you. It was only when you breathed out a laugh, that you felt your body flaring with aches from where he’d brought you to the very heights of known pleasure.

    ‘Wow.’ You breathed.

    ‘Indeed.’

    You noticed how out of breath Plo was as well, hovering above you.

    ‘I think it’s safe to say, your mask will be fine.’ He said, with a coy smile, one you’d never seen before. But he was right, you chuckled, realising all your worries about your mask were now settled. If it could stand up to that kind of need, it would be fine for the rest of your time on Dorin.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[queenofthieves]

amaryllis, forget-me-not, iris + nadya? 💚

thank you, dear!! <3 oh Nadya, my beautiful necromantic spy, lets go:

amaryllis :   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ?   how do they express that pride ?  

She takes pride in her appearance, her mind, and even the fact that she’s just a little off putting. Nadya’s more overtly prideful about her appearance and oddness. She finds herself to be extremely beautiful but part of being like “I’m gorgeous, I’m the best” is that it’s a bit of a shield, some people aren’t going to poke deeper at you if they think you’re shallow and full of yourself, so she feels it can ward off people from being interested in whatever the fuck is going on internally. She doesn’t mind people having the wrong idea of her and thinks that it can often be beneficial. 

Being off putting is something she takes pride in because she thinks it both adds to her attractiveness and offsets it. She also gets a kick out of making people uncomfortable so being open about her ‘weird’ interests allows her to 1. Talk about stuff she enjoys and 2. Push people’s buttons for her amusement, or if someone isn’t uncomfortable there’s also some weird enjoyment in that.

Her mind (maybe her nature? Talking about both spellcasting and tendencies to lie, etc.) - is something she takes a lot of pride in. I guess she is overt about the lying part, in the sense that I think she plays it up, but that kind of goes into her preferring people believe she lies a lot more often than she actually does. The way that she is prideful in this trait isn’t really something she displays like the two above, and the way she’s overt about it is in a way that she thinks is potentially misleading. She would rather people come to recognize what it is to her on their own. Nadya really loves the traits that others may feel are ‘less desirable’ and for her they’re a very important piece of her - these things being important to her are why she’d rather not be quite so direct about it, she’s honestly probably been burned by that in the past hm. Part of why she chose the career path she has is that she can use her, uh, ‘non normative’ traits in a way that other jobs might not be as accepting of while also getting to be helpful and useful, which she loves. I think she’d lose her mind - in a positive sense - if anyone were to recognize that part of her in a way that she feels is accurate and makes her feel seen in truth (something something spies and their fucking praise kinks). I’m sure it has been recognized to some degree previously, but being seen in that way is both something she craves and something she feels she shouldn’t care about lmfao.

And the other part of her mind is her casting/intellect. Nadya doesn’t lead with that, she’d rather people recognize that on their own. Both because it’s more meaningful to her if she doesn’t have to spell that out to someone, and because she doesn’t feel like everyone needs to know her capabilities. She’s not dumbing herself down, but she directs attention elsewhere, and she's not going to be seen as a potential threat if her casting isn't known. Nadya will be upfront about that or other abilities if she needs to for work or academically, but those are the only times she truly cares to come off as impressive.

forget - me - not :   has your muse ever forgotten something that is or was important to them ?   are they afraid of forgetting things like that ? 

She has not forgotten anything important as of yet, which is maybe a miracle with some of the memory shit going on in the campaign. Nadya is terrified of forgetting many things. Any of the memories she holds dear with her uncle Dima, anything from her group back in the living world - the Bleeding Hearts, forgetting any of that would be like forgetting a part of herself. Due to paranoia with what her field is, she’s afraid of being forced to forget things. She has a - maybe irrational - fear of forgetting her studies. Part of the choice to learn casting the way she does is so that it’s hers and can’t be taken from her, but there’s always the potential for that no matter what. 

Since part of the goal is returning from the dead back to her old life - she's developed a fear of forgetting the Underworld, probably due to recently forming some attachments, that will likely only grow. rip to her tbh

iris :   if your muse could convey one last message to someone they have lost or left behind ,   what would it be ? 

Okay ouch. I think she has to go with one last message to the person she knew as her uncle Dima, with the knowledge she now has. I think it’d be something like:

“I miss you. I spent so long convinced that you can’t be gone. I met Dima. When I first found out, I struggled a lot imagining the possibility that the time we knew each other might not have meant as much to you as it did to me. But, I don’t think those anxieties and initial fears can be accurate. They rely on the idea that we need to know everything about a person to actually know them. I got to know Dima. I got to know the parts that you filled in, everything outside of the blueprint you were given, I got to know you. If it didn’t matter, then I can’t imagine you would’ve stuck around so long.

I believe that I am lucky to have been loved twice over by Dima and to have been loved by you, Nox. 

Considering my circumstances, it is probably awful to hope that I find you. If you’re not where I am already, then I hope it is a long time before we cross paths. But I do hope that our paths intersect once again. I have been lost without you in my life. I hope there is more time.”

[pr1ncesspopstar]

Shade - FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 15: Free Day

I cannot wave bigger "ENDWALKER SPOILERS AHEAD" flags if I tried

Ao3

-

‘This is a sick joke.’ Hades couldn’t help but think as he observed the body, the shade he held in his arms.

He should have known better, truly. It was impossible not to feel that battle as it began within the depths. Waves of aether crashing up between each clash of a blade and summoning of magic. Despite the severance of his old seat of Emet-Selch, there was little he could do to break the tie between his soul and the waves of the aetherial sea. He could feel Elea- no, Halditar (he had to give respect to her name now, seeing all that she had surpassed) was trading blows with Hydaelyn at this very moment. That shard and the one he had once called friend could not exist together.

“Did that eikon make you?” He snarled, pushing away the shade he had raced to embrace in a moment of weakness. His betrayal was so great he couldn’t help but use the word he had created to insult the various false gods created by this shattered star.

“No,” its voice was not what he expected. Have Elea’s voice it did, but more than that. Layered upon it, in languages aplenty, were the voices of others. Men, women, children and elderly. They created a strange melody of a voice. Some were oddly familiar. “I am a gift. I was made for Venat just before the sundering.”

“By who?” He demanded, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. Hate as he did to compare himself to her. Hades and Venat were very similar in one aspect. Their respect and knowledge for the wishes of one lost friend was too great to dare make some false idol in their likeness. The only one who would dare to would have been-

“I did,” Elea’s shade nodded. His skin crawled. It was one for shallow imitations like the ones he had made to fill his phantom city to believe themselves sentient. It was another to see one made by a friend in the image of herself, believing that. Then she nodded and displayed another uncanny ability that made Hades despise this creation. “I know I reflect the ancient you once knew, if that will help you feel at ease.”

“Oh, good! She filled you with as much aether as she could so you can read my feelings, too. How wonderful.” The sarcasm and venom was such a dead mix on his tongue, especially as he could hear the words echo around them in the sea of souls.

“How very hypocritical of you, ‘emperor of the phantom city.’” He held back a flinch, both from the sharp words and the shock of its knowledge. The shade had her unrestrained tongue. That was clear enough.

“How do you know about that? And more pressingly, why on this star were you made? Elea despised using creation magic without a good reason.” He demanded to know. She walked across the platform they found themselves on, meandering mid-conversation.

(A habit that hurt his heart to see recreated so accurately. Seemed she was more aware of herself than she let him know.)

“I was worried Venat would be lonely, and without support to the very end. So I made my shade to keep her company through it all.”

“That’s it? Your only reason for pouring so much aether into one shade?” Even from beyond existence, his mind still struggled to wrap around Elea’s thought process.

“Did I need a better one?” She countered. She had climbed onto the railing, balancing upon it like a child might, wandering away. Without realizing it, he followed, chasing after the pale visage of a friend he once knew. “As for why I know about the Tempest, Venat loved my gift so much she gave me the gift to see the lives of my shards. That’s why I talk like this. Whether I meant to, I’ve picked up some of my other part’s traits as my own.”

That explained the familiarness of some of those voices lost within the symphony. They were the other shards of Elea, some he had met and known. A knight that gave himself to darkness to save a princess he loved, dying at a disguised Elidibus’ hand. The whisperings of that piece of her existing in the third, clad in red and ever-humming. An abandoned child of the forest that died when they dropped that shard’s moon into the earth. Some he had made offers to, with one commonality. All refused any offer he or other Ascians made.

“Where are Hythlodaeus and Themis? They are normally with you, are they not?” Elea’s shade asked, looking around as if at any moment they may pop-up.

“They went to go watch your shards fight with Venat. Wanted to bear witness to ‘the battle legends will be made from,’ in their own words.” He truly tried not to sound so bitter over it. He was also championing the red-head, after all.

Upon her soul, he bore her his legacy, more than once now that his memory of Elpis had returned to him once his soul sunk into the aetherial sea. He had watched as she and her fellows raced down to the heart of the world, but could not bring himself to chase them further. Seeing Venat infuriated him too much, he claimed.

(“Of course that’s the only reason,” he claimed when Hythlodaeus asked if that was the only reason he didn’t wish to follow Themis down to the battlefield. The violet-haired man only smiled.

Those purple eyes looked over his knuckles, still white from how tight his fist clenched, hearing a bard’s aria echo through the sea in a voice as haunting as it had been millennia ago. He still furrowed his brow in confusion, wondering how the spells she weaved could still be so potent with only a fraction of aether. He knew Hyth would likely feel the pain still lingering on his inner-cheek from biting back a shout of worry when she had nearly been flung off a ledge by Amon’s assault.

He tried to insist once more, but when it was clear Hades would not, could not, bear to watch that soul so familiar fight, he went on ahead. Loneliness a cold comfort he had been content to swath himself in until they returned.

The phantom in front of him made him wonder if this was his curse. The existence of this phantom made him wonder if it was his curse.)

“You never listened to the words of others well enough.” Those words broke him free of his thoughts. The black mask the shade wore, Azem’s mask, was featureless, a canvas for the golden pain that decorated it so. “I can still feel you, as deeply as I did in the past, even. A skill you have still lacked to learn, to my former self’s worried expectations.”

Even then, the shade should have had no face for him to see. Yet Hades swore he knew beneath that mask Elea’s phantom was smiling at him, tight and sad. Eyes that did not exist boring into him with pity that made his pride flare on his face.

“Enough! Have I not suffered enough indignity and insults from you when you lived? Even beyond the grave, must you insist on haunting me?!”

“I haunt you only as much as you let me, sweet boy.” she tried to reach out to him, with a hand with painted nails and so painfully, endearingly small. He could remember when that hand would graze his jaw line so gently, when he would feel jealousy flicker seeing it tangle with Hythlodeaus’s hands, or Themis’ hair to straighten it. A depth of affection never afforded him, it seemed.

He slapped it way. It was warm and soft in such a fleetingly familiar way. His stomach turned in disgust. Seemed Venat’s affection for the fake gave it some extra power, the ability to feel as Elea once did. It was practically a parasite, existing still only thanks to the aether sustaining it.

“You do not have the right to call me as she once did, shade!” he shouted. Elea’s shade paused, tilting her head like an animal as she processed his action. The seconds of silence were heavy until she dropped her hand back to her side.

“Alright,” it was as if his outburst hadn’t even fazed her. Continuing on as such. “But don’t you remember? You never figured out what I was trying to say that day.”

“How could you? You were ever obtuse. Never saying things as they were.”

“I tried, I promise. To say things so others could understand. But no one ever seemed to change how they would listen. Only Hyth understood, and Themis tried. He truly did, but he was so… Young and none of us had the time. Little did we know.” Her words were heavy, yet fragile. That soft voice quaking at memories of feeling misunderstood, a sadness that washed over him from how deeply such feelings tied to this shade’s composition.

He could feel it in her heart, a tumultuous heat and coldness at odds, humiliation and embarrassment hand in hand with anxiety. The sense of walking on eggshells stressed over the wrong thing slipping out. He felt his eyes go heavy with tears, Elea’s empathy so great it moved his body, whether it moved him him. Hades could only feel conflicted. He never felt such sadness from Elea before, but feelings of this strength could only be true. How did he miss-

“You missed it for the same reason I was the only one to vote against you becoming the seat of Emet-Selch.” Oh, how he could feel his brow twitching in anger now. This shade just couldn’t couldn’t leave his thoughts well enough alone, and he doubted she would if he asked.

“And why was that, Elea? I’d love to know why one of my own closest friends thought me unfit for a position I was more than qualified for?!” He asked.

“Can you finally take my words at face value, as I have always meant them?”

“If it means you will finally be truthful.”

“Swee- Hades, I have always been truthful, especially to you. You just never liked or understood what I had to say. Ever pragmatic to a fault. Unable to understand the ways of others, why they did and think as they might.”

“Is that why you voted against me?”

“No,” she jumped down from the railing she balanced upon. He could not remember her being so… small, having to tilt his neck down quite far to look at her. He recalled someone larger, whose presence could encompass him, and words were much the same for how silently she could move.

“You have always been terribly callous and unfeeling towards others. Even those you never meant to hurt weren’t immune to that ugly part of your soul and were content to leave it unchanged. Now, I have seen through the eyes of my other lives how cruel you can truly be to both enemies and those you care for. My only regret is I did not fight harder to have Hythlodaeus take that seat instead of you.”

Each word is a dagger straight into his chest. Sharp, vicious, and making him remember the feeling of his body being ripped to shreds by her shard not too long ago. He is sure his face is red now. He can feel it burn as he towered over the shade. His robes and flesh melt as his true form tasks shape, wrapping around him in swathes of darkness as he slammed his fists down on either side of Elea’s shade. She can’t keep her balance from the force of the blow, falling, but unflinching as she stared up at him.

“You dare call me cruel?! You would think me callous after all I have done, all that we have given to save our ways?! Call me the hypocrite while you let our friends and family suffer the humiliation of being ripped apart! All they experience is being lost, aimless, and not knowing rest in this imperfect world! You terrible fake-” He hated how loud he screamed at her. Pushed to the brink by this false idol, knowing what a fool he looked like now. 

Worse as a part of him, felt a twinge of fear. A moment of realization.

Was he not acting as the shade told him Elea saw him?

Something warm touched the metal of his face. Very gentle, very familiar, nails making a gentle clack he hadn’t heard him in an amount of time that had no number. His multiple eyes focused on the figure. Hades did not know sympathy could make a stare burn as bright as anger until this moment.

“Have you finally heard me?” She asked.

His form faded back to the man with white hair that she was familiar with. His towering over her reduced him to kneeling on the ground, hands supporting his torso as he stared down. Those faintly glowing robes of the shade entered his vision. He wanted to speak, spit back words, but he knew they would only be in service to licking his wounds. No, it was his turn to do as she so often did for others. To be quiet and listen.

“It is, as you say, I was cruel, and my reasons were selfish. I will not deny the truth,” she agreed with his words. Another dagger of pain to the heart, cursing his own tongue for being so calloused and loose. Her hand grabbed under his chin, and gently brought his face up to look at that mask he only remembered, not the face beneath. “But I will not regret my actions. We both just did what we thought was right, with no way of knowing what ‘right’ really was.”

“Please, spare yourself. I always hated when you spoke so poorly about your nature.” He begged. Even after all this time, having to see her as an enemy, Hades found himself soft for Elea yet.

“But it’s true.” She said it as if that simple made it okay to say words most would crumple against. How she did not was a mystery, even now.

“... What was it, then? The real reason you didn’t join us in the summoning of Zodiark? Why were you selfish?” he asked. He could feel a weakness through her fingers, something long left behind unearthed.

“I was tired of hating myself, Hades.” There was a harshness in her voice that Hades had never hurt before.

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” There was a harshness in her voice that Hades had never hurt before. “I tried, I truly did try to be happy despite it all, Hades. But our culture did not love me, who I really was. And you didn’t either. You love the idea of Elea, the adventurer with a quick tongue and wild tendencies. I don’t blame you. She was so fun to play that I loved her too.”

“I desired the ability to change without worrying about the world, as the world deserved to be allowed to exist. Among our kin, I couldn’t accomplish that.” You know I couldn’t do that amongst our kin. Our kin’s perception of us as ‘prosperous’ and their belief that nothing could be better bound us in stagnation, burdening me with expectations, even if it wouldn’t have been better for me.

A blackness filled his chest, tightening in her throat, choking him up. He wanted to insist she was lying, but this despair in his gut and how his thoughts raced. He felt her aether course through where her hand met his skin. It was hauntingly cold now, dragging his brain into a mire of anxiety. He could feel his muscles tense, freezing in place while he heaved for breath to fill his lungs. Even a moment of this self-loathing was more than he had ever done across all his lifetimes. One could not lie about a pain so deep.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” A foolish question the moment it fell from his lips. He knew the answer. She did. She tried so many times to get him to see the real her, and he never did. He swallowed harshly, feeling tears make his eyes dewy. In a moment of weakness, he asked a question he had long wished he did, knowing full well he would dread any answer the shade told him. “Is that why you didn’t love me? That for all that you loved our Hyth and Themis, you couldn’t love me the same?”

“Oh, my poor, sweet Hades,” her words dripped with pity and sympathy. Her other hand came up gently to pet his hair. Those long nails scratched his scalp, how he had once hoped they might should Elea and he ever became more. “How could I have brought myself to love a man that could not love even a shard of my soul?”

The answer was so much worse than he imagined. It was more than a dagger through his heart. A wave of guilt he had long assumed he had stopped feeling wash over his soul. It made too much sense. He refused to take the small, shattered splinters of her, and treat them as dearly as he would hold them full. Especially when she was so happy they were here instead of her, and even if she returned someday, it would not be as the Elea he had known. Perhaps deep down he knew that none of the people he loved, who had been sundered, would not return as they once were. They had changed too much, for better or worse.

“I wish I could steal away all the moments you hated yourself,” he said. His voice was low now, softened by shock and truth and a realization. Elea, this may not have been, but it would be his only moment to speak with this version of her ever again. “If I could do one truly, genuinely kind thing to make up for all that I have done wrong in your eyes, it would be that. To feel and live every moment you’ve felt you hated yourself. So I could finally know the real you I lost.”

Elea’s shade moved her hands, cupping his face. He let his eyes flutter shut and nuzzled into the small palm. Such weakness he thought he would only ever enjoy with Hyth. “And I would want to do the same with you, retrace all the miles that you have, know all that you have learned, and come to do.”

“That‘s a terrible thing to want. You already know all there is about me it feels like, and the things I have done since your sundering are nothing good. Why would you want to know my place in this storied star?” He couldn’t help but scoff. Her laugh was surprisingly loud, and so warm even when weakened by sorrows of the past.

“Because you are still so dear to me! And how could I not want to know all about my friend? And from what I’ve seen, it’s a burden you’ve shouldered alone for some time. To understand it means I could better help you bear it.”

“Helpful to the last, truly. Even your shade can’t rest if she senses someone in need!” he spoke it as if exasperated, when he was anything but. Her laugh, her touch. For a moment, it slipped away that he was in the sea of souls, and this was only a phantom. It felt like home, if only for the smallest moment.

But his home was long gone, and fate saw to remind him the last hour was approaching.

Before their very eyes, the form of the shade shifted. A faint wave of aether wracking her form and then fading. She pulled her hands from his face and looked down. The faint glow was dimming, and they appeared translucent. Small motes of aether drifted off her hood, fading into the surrounding air.

“I won.” Elea whispered. Hades felt it only moments later. A massive wave, practically a tsunami of energy exploding from the center of the aetherial sea. No more could he feel the mass of aether that made up the form of Venat’s primal. This meant that anything that was not crystallized would fade.

Including that which sustained this shade for so long.

Yet, she seemed none the sadder for it. Quite the opposite, jumping up with glee and racing around, laughing and twirling at the victory far below them. “I won! Hades, I won! Halditar, and the Scions won! We’re strong enough, we’ve proved we had the strength to stop Meteion! I… I can save our stars.”

“That’s… wonderful, Elea. Your soul, she sure is something.” However hard he tried not to sound sad about it, about what he was about to lose again, it seemed it wasn’t enough. She stopped her gleeful spinning.

Before he knew it, he was nearly tackled off the edge in a hug. So rough was the embrace. A mask of black and gold sailed over the edge and into the sea, gone forever. Elea was weak, so it was easy to pry himself from her squeezing, but he certainly wasn’t happy about being nearly tumbled over the railing. Just as he was about to voice his discontent, a familiar sight stopped him.

Long, curly hair glowed the faintest ruby, as if no composition of creation magic to make the shade could hide how vibrant the inspirations’ locks had been. Her face was more gaunt than he remembered, as if she didn’t eat as much as she should. And perhaps most to his shock were her eyes. Down-turned and framed with full, soft lashes, there was no light in her gaze. Hollow, dead, and far too familiar. The way the gaze of every body he stole would inevitably look, burdened by the years of his duty as an Ascian. Whether this was how she truly looked beneath the mask, or how her self-loathing made her see herself, he wanted nothing more than to hold her.

Something he would never get to do again after this moment.

“Be good.” The many-voiced shade told him.

And she was gone. Disappearing into several balls of light that drifted around him. All the memories she had been made of and collected, gone. The duty she had given herself, complete.

Hades felt so much at once. Anger, despair, loss, thankfulness. Too much to sort, as his eyes welled. He refused to cry yet and wiped the tears away, especially knowing now that Hyth and Themis would return to rave about Halditar’s success. He refused to let them see him crying.

He had all the time he needed to mourn and recall the version of his past friend. For now, he was to look ahead, and hope that the one he had championed… his friend, could succeed where they had failed.

-

Hello! I normally don't do this but I am putting word vomit here because Cheese and Crackers, I wrote so much of it and I am not just going to leave it on Ao3!

Through much analysis I feel it it safe to say hades was not a good person. While he could be pushed to do kind things, it did not take much to push him to act unkind in turn. Many of nastiest and cruelest acts the ascians can be traced back to that we know of for now are his work or work he was involved it. Pairing this with how he remembers Amarout it's safe to say everyone's favorite grandpa has the biggest rose-tinted glasses of anyone we've interacted with so far in regards to anything, expect maybe Sphene (but that's a different and much more existential can of worms we aren't talking about rn.)

I couldn't help but want to play with that in the way I paint his dynamic with Elea. They love each other, they really do and they want to love each other more. But Hades has his head shoved so far up his own ass he cannot see any of his flaws that are very apparent to Elea, and I think she had the foresight to know interacting with him in any romantic way would have only hurt her more than he already had in different ways in the past. They genuinely believe being apart is the best option, and for then it was. Elea had hoped with time, Hades but sadly he just could never live up to her most simple, human expectations of him. He had to die to finally grow, after proving Elea's point of his cruelty by torturing Halditar and giving her expectations he would have never allowed her to meet, never intending to judge her fairly.

Also how I interpret the shard's of Elea soul, I wanna talk about it. Basically it is a 'both are true at once' deal. Halditar both is an is not Elea. Elea both is and is not Halditar. The Ascian's SAY Halditar is lesser than Elea for being a fraction of her soul, but they are wrong. The only thing that is different between them are their circumstances and their power, and this goes for ALL of Elea's shards, Ardbert, the voidsent for the reaper class, whatever the fuck happened to the one in the Nineth. All these souls carry sort of core 'tenets' they tend to abide by. Curious, explorative, empathetic, a touch stupid in weird ways, so on. All these things are what the soul that happens to be called Elea by the Ancient possessed. Removing bits of that soul maybe creates a small imbalance towards one aspect or another, but nothing drastic enough that renders the soul unrecognizable to the eyes of an Ancient. It is circumstances around those factors that shape how the personality manifests.

It's why Halditar would be both Venat and Elea's favorite shard and the one that is most worthy of carrying Azem's Crystal, because Halditar is everything Elea wanted to be and more. She's worked for and found happiness and freedom to change herself and even her fate. She's free to love, free to roam a wonderful world, she can be light-hearted and serious. She is the proof Elea would have wanted and needed to see to know it would all be okay. She would love herself someday, she'd find the 'her' she always wanted to be and would prove she had a right to exist and live. One comparison I can give is imagine you have a beautiful, huge raw diamond. The only way to cut the most perfect diamond is to slowly but surely work through it to reach the center, and at the end cutting the most beautiful, stone you've ever seen from it. Something that could have only come from refinement upon refinement. That was the process that made Halditar.

Also slightly more derailing I did not realize until writing this how much Elea and Hermes would have gotten along in their ideologies and philosophy of what made Ancient society pretty shit. Shame it manifested in entirely different ways!

Also random list of songs I associate with Halditar/Elea and Emet-Selch: Change Your Mind and Love Like You from Steven Universe. Running Up that Hill by Kate Bush. Through Patches of Violets by mili.

Thank you for reading the word vomit.

[iron-sparrow]

Writing RP scenes as poetry ── 

I have never been very good at long-form writing. I know this is likely a skill issue that I can resolve with time and practice and, uh, more reading. I just really don't feel like it right now, and I'm trying not to let myself believe this is a commentary on my skill as a writer (or roleplayer). When I began roleplaying in FFXIV, however, I also started writing poetry again. Nothing exceptional, but I remembered I've always really enjoyed freeform poetry as an avenue of expression. Just clicks better for me.

So recently, I had a scene in my brain. I decided to write it out as a poem that's heavily inspired by the style 陳琛 (Chen Chen) sometimes uses.

Anyway, I'm sharing that scene below. It's from the perspective of an FFXIV OC, Ibant, who currently serves as the steward of House Valeriant.

「 When an Entire Year Passes Faster than I Can See 」 The pen doesn’t stop writing, not as long as I am awake. The bells do not slow, because they don’t care if I need rest. But my mind is always burning with a thousand anxieties that I can’t possibly think of putting it down on something soft. Softness brings to mind the image of a writer who sleeps. I know without having to look that Frydstyr is in my bed tonight because he had come to watch me work in hopes that I might think about stopping long enough to eat solid, substantial food. My empty stomach reminds me that he had brought dinner with him. The braised beef is sitting within my reach in a shallow serving dish taken from the cabinets with the nice, matching sets and silverware. He used them because he likely felt I deserved to feel special. The chiming of my clock draws me back to my current task. I realize my pen had stopped moving and the words on the page had stalled for an indeterminate time while my tired mind drifted. This isn’t paperwork I want to put off – it’s more like a labor of love. I remind myself I can’t keep hiding behind my duties if I want to be happy too with the people I’ve surrounded myself with. Yet right now, I’ve entered a race against the fast approaching date that will mark when our time here is meant to draw to an end. No one is going to leave, so just use the other papers you wrote up. I can’t reuse that contract without amending a few terms, but what would Zahret know when his head is in the clouds these days, floating higher than anyone has any right to without losing their ability to breathe. My eyes begin to lose focus so I force them to see again by blinking. The ink begins to look like words again, obediently stretching across clean parchment to be read back in my own voice. I repeat everything more than I have to, making sure the message can’t possibly be lost. I, (your name here), shall remain a loyal knight of House Valeriant, sworn to serve and protect the Valeriant bloodline. Should I specify that they would also protect Valeriants who are not related by blood? My pen touches down again and weaves another dull sentence into being. Bureaucracy is the slowest death I can imagine for passion and creativity. Fortunate, then, that I am not someone who was trained to grow words like flowers in a garden. I can’t ever argue when someone says, in jest, let Ibant handle the reports, because I find a curious joy in technicalities. No one will break this family apart on technicalities while I hold this pen. The contracts will be ironclad under the lovely veneer of knightly oaths. I hope, when they read these papers and see the names that have signed, they will fully grasp the love that they have cultivated in this house.

[sleepyfoxbooks]

Wicked

By Gregory Maguire

Hello again! This is going to cover the college years of Elphaba, her meeting Galinda and the insanity that ensures during her time at Shiz. Oh my God, this is a lot. There is so much to discuss in this part of the book. It feels like so much happens in this chapter and at the same time absolutely nothing at all. I’m trying really hard not to just summarize the whole thing so please bear with me. (I pretty much summarize the whole thing 😅)

⚠️Warning! Spoilers for the book and it’s musical counterpart! ⚠️

⚠️Content Warning! This story contains explicit language, mild violence, and racial issues! Read at your own risk!⚠️

Gillikin part 1

This chapter covers a lot of stuff in the span of 146 pages. I gonna try to skip the stuff I don’t have a whole lot to talk about. This chapter skips directly to Ms. Galinda on her way to Shiz University, which in the book is an all-girls school. On the train, she meets Dr. Dillamond, the Goat professor (love him). During this time we’ve learned The Wizard of Oz came to power via hostile takeover, and is rolling back the rights of Animals. Animals with a capital A refers to Animals with souls, and the ability to speak. Galinda is incredibly bitchy to the Doctor, strictly because he’s a Goat. Galinda is a shallow, classist, naïve girl that has no concern or care for anything outside of herself. No surprise there. She gets saddled with Elphaba as her roommate because her chaperone (named Ama Clutch) was late and couldn’t vouch for her. There is continued discussion of the rights of Animals and all. We are introduced to Boq, who is smitten with Glinda and attempts to get close to her with the aid of Elphaba (who finds the whole thing absolutely hilarious).

In comparison to the musical, Boq and Elphaba strike up this very interesting friendship. During the summer months the two build an unlikely friendship (along with a gay couple that I desperately want to see in the movie, but know I probably won’t) as they attempt to help Dr. Dillamond provide validity to his existence. Boq works in a library that is barred to Animals and women alike. Galinda goes to a summer lake house one of her friends own.

Moving on from the summer, Elphaba and Galinda are roomies again and for the start of their Sophomore year. Then, the worst, most terrible thing you could ever think of happens.

DOCTOR DILLAMOND IS MURDERED!!

I wanted to scream so bad when I read this scene. All the poor Goat wanted was rights and he was murdered! The murder is so gruesome and bloody! Like no one is gonna believe this is anything other than murder. And it gets worse! Ama Clutch saw the murder from Galinda’s and Elphaba’s room! The head mistress (Madam Morrible or Horrible Morrible which I agree with very much) had her servant do it! This bitch made Ama Clutch go insane to cover up the murder!

With their chaperone out of commission, Horrible Morrible has Elphaba’s old nanny (conveniently named Nanny) come up to Shiz to take over as chaperone to the two girls. She of course has to bring Nessarose with her as she is responsible for her. The thing about Nessarose is, she doesn’t have arms. She was born without arms, and struggles with balance and in turn walking. More can probably be said about this but I’m not exactly the person for that. Nessarose is much like her father, very religious. She is also the father’s favorite, so she’s very spoiled. Which honestly breaks the middle child stereotype (yes, they also have a younger brother named Shell, but he’s not important). Nessarose is described as stunningly beautiful, with her only flaw being said lack of arms.

Without a professor for the girl’s college, they connect the boys and girls college, letting them take classes together. This is where we are introduced to Fiyero.

Now Book Fiyero and Musical Fiyero are incredibly different. For starters, book Fiyero is explicitly a POC, and it is integral to his back story. Before I say anymore, I feel I must preface this with the fact that I’m very white, so I will not analyze these parts of his character as I am not equipped to do so. I ask any POC that feel comfortable in giving their insight on the character please do so. I’m gonna go through really quick and give all the information about Fiyero that is in the book but completely written out of the musical. I also should mention at lot of this reeks of “written by a white guy in the 90’s” so please approach this with caution.

Book Fiyero:

is married at the age of seven (he does reassure us that he hasn’t done the “marital duties”)

is often described as Ochre-skinned

has blue diamond tattoos all over his face and body

he is the crown prince of his tribe during his entrance

his clothes are described as strange and all other characters act like they’ve never seen a POC before.

Right now, Fiyero is a little more of a background character at this moment. He comes into class late and is attacked by a pair of sentient antlers (which my favorite gay couple saves him from). A side character, yet for some reason still friend to the rest of the main characters (named Alvaric) makes blatantly racist comments about Fiyero. Elphaba comes to his defense and that’s kinda it for now.

Now this class they share is run by a professor Nikidik, and this man is a menace to society (and not in a good way). This man kidnaps an orphaned baby lion, who is too young to speak, if it can. He plans to hit this baby lion with a mallet to see if it can feel pain (like what?!). Everyone freaks out (and rightfully so), and two girl students grab the lion off the table and run out of the classroom with the baby in their arms! (The cat distribution system at work!) And this man is so confused why they’re so upset. I imagine this professor’s face to be very punch-able.

After this Boq kinda gets over Glinda all on his own. Like, he still thinks she's pretty but, he doesn't see her as this unattainable goddess and more of a person he can call his friend. However, that interest has not moved to Nessarose. And on this same page, Nessarose gets the shoes. Yes, the red ruby shoes, that is the catalyst for the entirety of Wizard of OZ. So these shoes are a gift from their father. No gift for Elphaba though. I think there's enough people who break down this part of the story, and there's no time Ama Clutch is dying!

Glinda's original chaperone is dying. In the infirmary, surrounded by Glinda, and Elphaba, she has a moment of clarity. Confessing that she did see Madame Morrible's clock work servant (named Grommetik) kill the Doctor Dillamond. And with this horrifying revelation she just dies. Like fully dead. I remember this scene being absolutely mind boggling. Like these two college kids take this so death and murder witness moment so, well (or at least better than I would). Then we cut directly to Ama Clutch's funeral. And this is a "modest" funeral, which of course they mean to say cheap. And this is obviously acknowledged by Nanny of all people.

Ok but this next scene is actually kind important, narratively speaking. Morrible has a private chat with the three leading ladies (yes, she even makes Nanny leave the room). It's here that she:

Admits to commissioning the murder of Dr Dillamond (which I'm still mad about)

Admits to putting a spell on Clutch to drive her crazy after witnessing the murder.

Places a spell on the three girls right then and there. So they can't tell anyone what she just confessed to.

Confesses to be the shadow government in a way. She wants them to be the ruling hands after The Wizard is dead, or something like that. Big idea here is that she wants to put these girls in charge as they're all great at magic and should rule the world.

Morrible ends the spell and the girls kinda collapse. The spell immediately takes hold.

Final thoughts

I didn’t know where to put this in the overall review, but Imma tag it on at the end here. Just like in the musical I think Galinda changing her name after the death of Dr. Dillamond to be pretty shallow. I understand what the attempt was here, and it definitely comes off better here than in the musical. Glinda sees that she was a really shallow person and begins to understand the world outside of her own head and the privileges she comes from. It just feels like she flipped a switch instead of ever having any kind of character growth that the readers can see. What might’ve fixed this would be instead of Galinda spending her entire summer break with her snobbish friends, she goes back to the school early and helps Boq and Elphaba with their research. This would give Galinda the opportunity to experience more in the injustices of Animals. I can just see her asking “why can’t women go to the library? Not like I’d want to of course, but just the principle?” during one of the meet ups.

I don’t know if it’s just me but there are things about the way Elphaba is written that I read as autism-coded. I don’t know if anyone else had that reading, if you did, I would love to compare notes on the subject!

There's definitely a lot of sapphic undertones to the relationship with Glinda and Elphaba, but there's been discussions on that and maybe it'll get and entire separate post on it's own.

Overall this chapter really packed a punch with its content. I hope to do a full character analysis when I’m done the book. If I skipped anything you wanted me to talk about please let me know. I admit I’m rather nervous to keep reading. Coming off of Good Omens, I had really not expected a deep dystopian conversation about rights and the injustices of the systems that revoke them.

[sakura-samsara]

Yoichi Main Story: Chapter 7

← Chapter 6

CW for this chapter: mild violence. Please read with care!

✦ part one 

Yoichi: It’s gonna be a headache to let this guy go if he can’t keep his trap shut. 

Yoichi: Well, a headache for me, at least. But I bet he'll be trouble for you too.

Yoichi: Don’t you think, Yoshino?

(I admit that he's right. The priest must have seen me use my fox spirit powers, and I doubt he’s inclined to keep it a secret.)

With Yoichi still holding a knife against his throat,

The priest stared upwards at me, his eyes wide with fear as he took in the otherworldly color of my hair and eyes. 

I remained silent, recalling Yoritomo’s order that with the exception of his closest aides, no one was to learn about my powers. 

(He said it was to prevent the troops’ morale from declining due to fear of the supernatural.) 

Yoichi: If you come up with another way to get him to keep quiet, I’m all ears.

Yoshino: Another way?

Yoichi: Mhm.

The corner of Yoichi’s lips twitched up into a smirk.

Yoichi: Say, for example… I could cut his tongue out and chop his hands off?

Priest: No...!

Yoshino: Yoichi-san!!

Yoichi: What's wrong? It's a perfectly good suggestion.

I bit my lip as he shot me a goading look. 

(I have to come up with something that's less… gory, but that Yoichi-san will still be satisfied with. I’ll need to think hard about this.)

I racked my mind for solutions until, suddenly, an idea came to me…

Yoshino: …There’s no need to do anything special.

Yoichi: …

✦ part two

Yoshino: …There’s no need to do anything special.

Yoichi: …

It took all of my might to keep my face blank as I approached the priest. 

Slowly, I removed the tie from my hair. Silver locks cascaded down my shoulders, stirring in the cool nighttime breeze. 

(I just hope this will help make me look as otherworldly as Tamamo does.)

Yoshino: You there.

Priest: Huh? A-Are you talking to me?

Yoshino: Indeed.

I recalled how cold Yoichi’s eyes had looked earlier, pictured them in my mind—and looked down at the priest as I tried to imitate the same expression.

(...I know I’m not a good liar. But I will make this lie believable, no matter what it takes.)

Yoshino: You have witnessed me exercise my powers tonight.

Priest: …

Yoshino: Now, I shall show you another enchantment that I am capable of performing. 

Priest: Wh..What are you going to do?

Yoshino: Yoichi-san, give me your knife.

Yoichi: Sure thing.

He handed me his knife with a look of amusement, giving the priest some more room to move.

Yoshino: Your hand. 

The priest’s hand trembled as I took it into my own. 

Priest: W..Wait…

Yoichi: Hold still, won't you?

In a flash, Yoichi pinned the priest down again, making him let out a frightened whimper. 

Priest: Nn…

I felt a pang of guilt at the terror in the priest’s eyes,

But I resolutely placed the tip of the knife against the pad of his thumb.

(...I’m sorry.)

Yoichi: !

Priest: Gh-!

Blood oozed from the shallow cut on his finger and dripped onto the earth.

(I’m glad I didn’t hurt him more than I had to.)

I relaxed my shoulders and steadied myself before I pressed the tip of the knife to my own thumb.

(Here goes nothing...)

Yoichi: ……

After feeling a slight prick, I let a drop of my own blood fall onto the same spot that the priest’s had.

Yoshino: …The enchantment ritual has concluded.

Priest: Wh…What did you do to me?! Tell me! I'm begging you!!

Yoshino: My power is carried within even the smallest droplet of my blood.

Yoshino: By combining your blood with my own, I have gained the ability to observe your actions at all times. 

The priest’s face drained of color as I spoke in a deliberate tone. 

Yoshino: You must never tell anyone about what you saw tonight, nor must you ever perform another immoral deed, or else… 

Priest: What’s going to happen…?

(Uhh… I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.)

Yoshino: …You will be punished.

Priest: I—I understand. I swear will never tell a soul about you o-or do anything bad ever again…

(I get the feeling that he’s being sincere…)

I looked up at Yoichi almost beseechingly. 

Yoichi: You’ve gotta be kidding me.

(Is he going to expose me? Was this all for nothing?!)

I stiffened as my breath caught in my throat. 

Yoichi: I can’t believe you’d use your sacred blood to cast a spell on him…

(Huh?)

Yoichi couldn’t have looked more serious as he spoke, his voice low and thick with foreboding.

Yoichi: If you break an oath you swear to her in blood… Man, even I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about what’d happen.

✦ part three

Yoichi: If you break an oath you swear to her in blood… Man, even I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about what’d happen.

(Wait. What is he talking about?)

Yoichi: Oi, listen up. If you don't have the guts to live with the curse she put on you, I’ll spare you a world of misery by killing you here and now. 

Priest: Is…Is the punishment for breaking the oath truly that horrible? 

Yoichi: Well, I once saw what happened to a guy who broke his oath… The carnage was just insane. Every single bone in his body was…

(Yoichi-san!?)

Yoichi: Nah, no need to elaborate. All I’m saying is you better keep your oath no matter what. Make sense?

Priest: Yes...

The intensity of Yoichi’s words left the priest lost for words of his own. 

(...I can hardly believe it, but it seems like he was helping me keep up the act after all.) 

Yoichi: I think it’s about time you get going now. Oh yeah, you’re leaving Kamakura tonight, aren’t you? 

Priest: Y-Yes, of course…

The priest scrambled to his feet, stumbling over himself as he ran away into the night. 

Yoichi: I guess that’s one thing taken care of, yeah?

Yoshino: What a relief.

I instantly slumped back down, overwhelmed with relief. 

Yoichi: …Damn. You don’t look like the kind of lady who can out-con a conman, swindling and threatening him like it's nothing.

Yoshino: I just acted on an impulse…

(But I still had to think it out thoroughly to see it through.) 

Yoshino: Maybe I was inspired by the time that he almost swindled us, and the time that you threatened me. I remember both incidents quite well.

Yoichi: I see, I see. 

Yoichi: You might seem like a harmless little softie, but it looks like you’ve got the guts to get yourself out of trouble when it counts.

His gaze softened with what almost seemed like admiration. 

Yoichi: If you ask me, though, putting on an act like that was pretty risky.

Was my acting really that bad? (Romantic +4, Dramatic +2) I thought I did a good job (Romantic +2, Dramatic +4) It was the best I could do (Romantic +4, Dramatic +4)

Yoshino: Well, risky or not, it was the best I could do…

Yoichi: I know. I’m acknowledging that you did well.

Yoichi: At the end of the day, I’m just glad it was enough to scare off the geezer.

Yoshino: I agree… Thank you for helping me with it, Yoichi-san.

Yoichi: It's no biggie. Keeping up our deal was well worth playing along with your act.

Yoichi: But I wanna ask you something.

Yoichi: Why’d you bother going out of your way to spare the guy? I mean, he summoned an ayakashi to attack you. 

(Well…)

It took me a moment to mull over my thoughts before I spoke. 

Yoshino: Of course I didn’t want to see him die, but… it wasn’t the only reason. 

Yoichi: Oh?

Yoshino: I also didn’t want to see you kill someone.

Yoichi: What does that mean?

He gave me a stern look as I unraveled my thoughts and slowly spun them into words.

Yoshino: You could have chosen not to come to my rescue at all tonight, couldn’t you? 

Yoshino: You’re supposed to be undercover, after all. Someone could have busted you while you were coming to help me. 

Yoshino: Besides, it’d be pretty convenient for the rebels if I happened to die tonight. It would have been perfectly reasonable of you to abandon me to the ayakashi.

Yoichi: …

Yoichi: Maybe I just wanted you to owe me a favor. For all you know, I could’ve rescued you just to get you to strike another deal with me. 

✦ part four

Yoichi: Maybe I just wanted you to owe me a favor. For all you know, I could've rescued you just to get you to strike another deal with me. 

Yoshino: Maybe—but I get the feeling that taking such a risky chance would give you far too much trouble for it to be worth the outcome. 

Yoshino: So I have reason to believe that… that even if it was only in the slightest measure… you came to help me out of kindness. 

Yoichi: …

Yoichi’s eyes flared wide, as if I’d caught him off guard. 

Yoshino: That’s why I didn’t want you to kill the priest—I didn’t want to see a kind person take someone’s else’s life. 

Yoshino: It was selfish of me. I’m sorry for that.

Yoichi: You did it for… my sake?

Yoshino: I don’t know. Maybe it was just for my own self-complacency. 

(Perhaps it isn't a big deal to Yoichi-san, but I couldn’t bear to see a person die. If anything, I stopped him for my own sake.)

Yoichi: No matter how kind you want to think I am, I'm still a samurai. I didn’t kill someone in front of you tonight, but I might have to do it another day.

Yoichi: You, on the other hand, might end up getting me killed one of these days. Think about that for a second.

Yoshino: I’m aware of that, but it doesn’t change what I think. 

(If that ever happened, I know that Yoichi-san wouldn’t forgive me either.) 

Yoichi: You…

Yoichi was silent for a moment before muttering in exasperation. 

Yoichi: Man. You really are a handful, you know that?

Yoshino: What do you mean?

(I'd imagine someone as oblique as Yoichi-san would be harder to deal with than someone like me.)

Yoichi: Turns out you really are simpler than I thought you were. 

Yoshino: …You can be really rude sometimes, Yoichi-san.

Yoichi: I'm just being honest. Would you prefer it if I lied to you instead?

(Well, no, but that’s not the point!!)

Yoichi: Well, anyways, let me explain.

Yoichi glanced away as he cleared his throat before looking back at me.

Yoichi: I assumed you were an easy touch when we first met, but you turned out to be more headstrong than I could’ve imagined.

Yoichi: It's like if playing things fair is all you know how to do.

Yoichi: The way you negotiated with me, even when I was threatening you—I guess it got me to see you in a different light…

(Really...?)

Yoichi: But even then, I still thought I was dealing with an ordinary woman.

Yoshino: …Do you not think I'm ordinary, now?

Yoichi: Even if you're naive, and your plan is way too optimistic,

Yoichi: It'd be hard for anyone else to pull off what you've done so far. You've made allies with all sorts of people and given everything you have to stay true to what you believe in.

Yoichi: It’s incredible how you’ve made the best out of... well, everything that’s happened to you since you came here. 

Yoshino: I think you’re giving me far more credit than I deserve.

Yoichi: You'd be surprised. Taking advantage of a situation that sucks as much as yours does—it's a lot harder than you think.

Yoichi: Not to mention, it’d be easy to turn bitter and jaded in your position, but you’ve managed to stay as genuine as you’ve always been.

Yoichi: I go back on what I said before, about you being like a stray cat. You’re more like some kind of… strange creature. 

Yoshino: S-Strange creature? Couldn’t you have come up with a better comparison?! 

Yoichi: I meant that as a compliment, okay? More or less.

✦ part five

Yoshino: S-Strange creature? Couldn’t you have come up with a better comparison?! 

Yoichi: I meant that as a compliment, okay? More or less.

(Well, now that I’ve finally had a second to think about it…)

(I guess… receiving his acknowledgement makes me happy.) 

An inexplicable warmth kindled deep within me.

Yoichi: …It’s tough to keep my guard up when you smile like that.

Yoshino: …? Sorry, what did you just say?

Yoichi: No~thing.

Yoichi made a languid gesture with his hand; I nodded in response, even though I still wasn't sure what to make of the situation.

Yoichi: Alright. We’re heading back for real this time.

Yoichi: Is your ankle okay, by the way? Your finger, too. 

(Oh...)

He gently took my hand, turning it palm-up to examine the cut on my finger.

Yoshino: My finger is fine. I only made a shallow cut, and the bleeding has already stopped. 

Yoichi: Then what about your ankle? You were running earlier. That couldn’t have been good for your sprain. 

(He’s very perceptive…)

Yoshino: It still hurts a little bit, but it’s nothing I can’t patch up at home. 

Yoshino: I am a doctor, after all.

I cautiously shifted my foot back and forth; the motion roused the forgotten pain in my ankle.

Yoichi: Hmm. Would you rather be carried in my arms or on my back?  

Yoshino: W-What?

Yoichi: Walking through the forest’s just gonna make your ankle worse, so I’ll carry you the rest of the way back.

Yoshino: I’m fine, really!! I can walk! I couldn’t ask you to carry me that far!

Flustered, I frantically shook my head. 

Yoichi: You just don’t get it, do you? Being modest won’t do you any favors at this point.

Yoichi: Come on. If you don’t choose how you wanna be carried, I’m just gonna have to make the choice for you.

(If he’s willing to go that far, then I’d rather just suck it up and choose for myself…)

Yoshino: …Then I’d like to be carried on your back. Thank you.

I bowed to him, trying to fight back my embarrassment. 

Yoichi: Of course. 

He turned and bent down to allow me to climb onto his back.

Yoshino: Seriously, you can put me down if I’m too heavy for you…

Yoichi: Hahaha. You better not underestimate me, mmkay?

I timidly held onto his shoulders, and he grabbed me under the knees and lifted me onto his back with ease as he rose back up.

Yoichi: Now let’s get going. 

(His figure is lean, but it seems like he’s much stronger than he looks.)

(I guess that's only natural, since he’s a samurai.)

Suddenly, I was all too aware of the warmth of his back against my chest, and I felt heat slowly rise up in my cheeks.

(Thank goodness I asked him to carry me on his back instead of in his arms. At least he can’t see my face this way.) 

I leaned my weight against his back as he began walking, fixing my eyes on his crimson hair.

(...This is the first time I’ve noticed the whorl of his hair.)

Yoichi: So, how are you liking the ride?

Yoshino: What? Uhm… I guess… seeing you from this angle is a new experience? It kind of feels like getting a change of scenery.  

Yoichi: The hell’s that mean?

Laughter rumbled in his voice, so much closer to me than before, and I felt my pulse skip a beat.

(Why is my heart racing? Oh, no, no, no…) 

Yoichi: Well, then this makes you the second person who’s ever seen me from this angle. 

Yoshino: Huh?

Yoichi: It’s been over ten years since I’ve carried anything but my quiver on my back. 

Yoshino: Is that so…

(He did say he had ten older brothers. I guess it would make sense that he never got the chance to give piggyback rides to any younger siblings he might have had. But…) 

Yoshino: If I’m the second person to see you like this, then you must have carried someone else like this first… right?

Yoichi: The first person I ever carried like this... That would be the Taira lordling.

Chapter 8 →

[mysticbewitched]

hello mystic, tomorrow is the first day back at school but i don't want to go AT ALL. i won't talk about my school situation that much here but overall, i don't fit in, feel like an outcast and have zero friends. the people there are honestly shallow and i don't relate to them or their conversations at all but anyways, i want to manifest another few weeks off school but last time i tried manifesting that, it didn't work and ended up going to school which ruined my mood the whole day. also, the 3D is constantly showing me the opposite of what i want (e.g. my mum telling me to go to bed early, having to iron my uniform, setting my alarm early to wake up, etc.) and it's messing with my mind and making myself excessively doubt. i'm going to bed soon and i'm dreading school tomorrow but i truly want to manifest my desire. do you have any advice for me to be more confident in myself and believe that i won't attend school tomorrow?? thank you for reading this, i truly appreciate it

I want to start this off by saying that my fellow outcasts are definitely my kind of people and I personally think they're the coolest individuals because they stand out from the crowd.

It's so much more awesome to stand out than to fit in.

Screw fitting in, honestly.

Be wild, be unique, and most importantly, be true to yourself.

You are awesome and we have the same view points when it comes to dealing with people who do fit in the crowd.

Now to answer your question.

The best way to develop more faith and confidence in yourself and your own abilities will always be to continuously test these teachings for yourself.

Test it out and see the magic happen.

You want to keep proving your own power to yourself by manifesting as many desires as you can, so you end up reaching the point of undaunted faith in yourself as the operant power. You will become so confident and certain in your abilities that nothing in the "external" world will ever be able to break you or make you lose faith in yourself.

You will inevitably come to realize that you truly are the creator of your reality and you are in complete control of your very own world. You call all the shots and you have the incredible power to manifest absolutely anything you want.

There are no limits to your power.

Start somewhere.

Even through the self-doubt, the worries, uncertainty - start somewhere because that's much better than staying stuck in limbo and wondering to yourself, "What if?"

Dare to assume your desires

Dare to take a leap of faith

What do you have to lose?

Just start and watch your confidence blossom.

[lesbianyosano]

manifesting Fukufuku dying in each others arms -> I am losing it slowly anyway thoughts on the newest chapter?

this has been sitting in my askbox since september and im really sorry anwsering took so long, but ive been trying to articulate how the last few chapters/last episode made me feel and im still not sure, because there have been so many bizzare choices made by both asagiri and the ppl behind the anime i still cant wrap my head around it fully (this got stupid long sorry)

starting with fukuzawa, i made a post a while back talking abt how i was assuming he was going to die/why it'd make a lot of sense, and there were really two main reasons for that; 1. he hasnt had anything interesting to offer for the story for a while and 2. his ability actively stops other important characters (mainly atsushi and kyouka) from further developement. the first thing is now gone which im pretty happy with! i love fukuzawa a lot so it's nice to see him finally have a purpose in the main story and im excited to see where it will go (also fukufuku you will always be famous to me <3333333), but the issue of his ability is still very much here. ive seen ppl theorize that all men are equal is just him lying and there is no ability but i honest to god would hate that, bc it would seem like such a shallow twist. atsushi's conflict with the tiger is central to his character so if it suddenly got revealed that a huge reason why he's even capable of using his power is just placebo "believe in yourself" bullshit i think i'd tear my own hair out. so im still thinking fukuzawa may get killed at some point, esp with the position he's been put into now and how much he seems to not want it.

and as for the "chuuya was never a vampire" fiasco, i honestly have no words, it was so unbelievably bad. ik there's been a ton of posts about how "its actually good" bc fyodor's death was caused by his inability to trust, and dazai's belief in his allies is what put him at an advantage, which is nice yeah, but it doesnt change how fucking stupid of a plan that was. if their goal is to kill fyodor, why not do it in that flooded room? fyodor escapes solely bc chuuya gets him out but if he was concious the entire time why not just leave him there? why continue to pretend? im usually not a huge fan of getting angry over plot holes when the narrative and themes are whats more important, but this is just so blantantly stupid. it feels like asagiri just wanted a plot twist for a plot twist's sake. mersault in general is so poorly constructed as an arc (dazai communicating via his heartbeat,,,, give me a break) but at least you'd hope it would end in a way that makes you excuse all of that, and then it doesn't. i think this post sums up how i feel about this than i ever could

and the fact that its december and we are STILL behind the fucking anime asagiri be so for real. it's easy to see now that the constant half chapters and short releases were a deliberate choice to have the anime catch up which i dont love, but fine, whatever. but now??? what the point of half releases? these chapters have been ready for a long time, and there's no way asagiri and the editors and whoever else is involved arent aware of how frustrated the readers have been for years now. the only explanation i can think of is that maybe the manga will have a different arc conclusion and ctheyre trying to idk, make it seem like we're following the anime closely? idk this shit is so stupid

overall this past arc or two have been bad, there are some elements that make them enjoyable still, but there is no theme consistency and overreliance on cliff hangers (that ppl still somehow buy). it feels like there are no stakes to the story, and that's really bad. maybe it's why i was hoping for fukuzawa to be killed alongside fukuchi idk, it'd finally feel like something is changing

on a brief positive note i quite enjoyed fyodors death, weird catholic freak, ofc nikolai is cradling your arm like this. i was a little suprised to see fyodor killed just yet (bc he always needed to die for the story to be able to wrap up eventually), but given the jesus quote, he may as well come back in some way tbh

[pyyles]

On The Picture of Dorian Gray

‎‏‏‎ ‎An interesting comparison to be made in ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ is one between Dorian Gray and Lord Henry, in terms of how Dorian attempts to replicate Lord Henry’s actions, in order to become like Lord Henry, personality and ideology-wise (almost subconsciously).

Lord Henry is a character who does what he wants for the sake of fulfilling his Hedonic ideology. His mindset is complicated because of its poetic articulation, made of twists and turns in how he speaks to Dorian, and yet remains entirely simple at it’s most fundamental level- Hedonism. Even down to his sexuality, where his (speculated) desire for Dorian is not entirely pinned to his potential ‘homosexuality’, but rather because he just does want he wants. If one were to ask Lord Henry on how he would describe his sexuality, I can only image that he would respond in a un-serious way, where after talking on about what the question even means, you will eventually realise that he doesn’t have an answer to your question directly, but rather makes his answer apparent through the articulation of his ideology; that it does not matter to him. If in that moment he wanted a man (or a woman) he would accept it, for the sake of maximising his own happiness. Dorian, upon meeting Lord Henry for the first time, has his innocence and his strong sense of morality questioned by himself. He admires Lord Henry and, from the first meeting of theirs, is poisoned to try and become like him.

Perhaps more evidence of this mindset is in Lord Henry’s behaviour towards Dorian’s ‘love interest’, Sibyl. Lord Henry views Sibyl in an entirely superficial way, and also through a sexist lens, where he admires and enjoys Sibyl’s presence due to her incredible ability to replicate the characters she plays on stage, as well as being beautiful. These things are all valued by Lord Henry due to his hedonism, but he only loves them insofar as they give him that pleasure he values FROM them. As soon as this is ends and she preforms a play that does not even come close to meeting the expectations of Dorian and Lord Henry, Lord Henry loses interest completely.

Dorian, on the other hand, loses interest in a much more aggressive way. Now he finds her "shallow and stupid" and can barely stand her. His hedonism is growing to be 'active' rather than 'passive' (passive being the kind that Lord Henry displays). He becomes so rash, that his words eventually lead Sibyl to commit suicide. Even the reaction of Lord Henry shows how different the two truly become, as Lord Henry urges Dorian that it doesn't matter anymore, that 'he cares not a whit for the young Sybil and instead speaks superficially about fashion, women, and the convenience of Sibyl's death'. While Dorian feels bad, and tries to reconcile with his troubled feelings after being the reason for Sibyl's suicide.

So, then, how can it be that Dorian and Lord Henry turned out so different, if Dorian looks for a hedonism that is the same as Lord Henry's? Well, this because Dorian seeks to value the consequences of Lord Henry's actions, rather than truly understanding and aligning with the values that Lord Henry has. Lord Henry values the beautiful, pleasure, art, riches and happiness because of what they are and what they GIVE him. Dorian seeks to become like Lord Henry, so by replicating his actions (a consequence of valuing the things listed above) he aims to replicate a SENSE of value for these things. So, in chapter 16, Dorian takes Henry's words "To cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of the soul.", and does exactly that; by going to an Opium den to do opium. He believes that this ideology, this philosophy implies that he should do some sort of drug, something stimulating to heal his 'soul', when actually, what Lord Henry probably implied was something much more tame, but still stimulating. You can see that Dorians attempt to think similarly to Lord Henry is failed, because of his lack of understanding and TRUE belief in hedonism. For him it is all a play, none of it is how he truly, really, thinks.