#the only order that matters is the order in which their name flows better

[fireheartwraith]

I don't get the obsession with defining "oh i'm a dkbk" "i'm a bkdk". Guys. They're the same characters

[ulltraviolences]

let the light in | haymitch abernathy

pairing: haymitch abernathy x fem!covey!reader

synopsis: deciding to indulge in old habits after a particularly hard night & glimpses of his past life, haymitch doesn’t expect to be comforted by the voice of a beautiful songbird in the hob of 12.

warnings: mentions of war, canon violence, ptsd, alcohol, mention of blood, flirting, age gap (reader is in early 20s), slight sexual themes, kissing, fluff-ish, sweet haymitch

song included: the ballad of lucy gray baird

a/n: this is something I’ve had for so long in my drafts & now that we’ve got the prequel announcement, what better time than to post it! <3

Maysilee’s loud screeches echo through the trees, the mockingjay’s repeating the blood curdling sound as they start to encircle him. Haymitch’s feet moving fast beneath him against the dirt trail in order to lose the career pack behind him. His movements beginning themselves before his mind can process them and the fact that she’s gone. The wind being his sole helper in drying the tears that threaten to keep flowing, catching a glimpse of his hands still stained red from the way he held her before she passed.

The only thing on his mind now being that he survives this, for her, for his family, for his district, and more importantly so he can show that they don’t control him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sound of glass shattering against the hardwood floor is what finally pulls his consciousness out of the nightmare of the arena. Flailing his arms around as if to protect himself from ever being touched again, haymitch is quick to his feet to stand up and surveil the empty dining room for the slight hint of the ghost of a past tribute looking to attempt to take his life once more.

He stands completely still as he finally takes into account his surroundings, his heart still pumping out an extra beat per minute and silently waiting as he catches his breath. it’s just a dream. you survived. you’re here. you’re home. He repeats the mantra in his head over and over again till it hopefully sticks this time.

It isn’t until he feels a slight trickle drip down onto the table that he sees the fallen glass shatter all over the floor and mixed with the hint of crimson from the shards stuck to his palm.

It feels like a cruel joke almost, a reminder. The blood that he’ll forever have stuck to his hands. The mess of blood that no matter how hard he tries to clean up will just keep flowing in an endless cycle no matter what he does to prevent it from happening again.

A bitter chuckle escapes him at the thought. Amused by his own misery and the situation he’s found himself in. He backs up and slowly treks himself to the kitchen sink to turn on the faucet, relishing in the slight sting that the lukewarm water elicits from his wounded hand.

A small price to pay for the families he thinks about every waking moment that he’s, no doubt, wounded for life by surviving the games against their children. Their loved ones that they’ll never get the chance to see again. Yet, whose faces and names haunt him every night since he’s stepped foot out of that arena.

The pain of not only them but his parents. His sisters. His girl. And Maysilee. Her family. People who he couldn’t save even here at home and after the games. All because he wanted to show them, the capitol, that they couldn’t control him they way they did everyone else.

The growing pit in his stomach now feeling inescapable the longer he stands in front of the running faucet. Shaking his head, he slams the faucet switch off, grabbing the alcohol beside him to disinfect the wound. Hissing and banging his leg against the drawer beneath his sink when when the liquid hits his palm. He slowly bends down to open the drawer and finds the bandaging wrap that he keeps for instances like these, which have happened to become routine for him. He bandages up the rest of his hand until he looks down and hums in slight satisfaction at his work.

As soon as he’s finished, his mind is already preoccupied with what the next choice, or beverage, of distraction he is in need of. It can’t be here though. Anywhere but the empty, cold house in the almost unoccupied, lone victor’s village.

Walking towards the front door, he quickly shrugs on a light coat and his boots. Stepping out into the cool, autumn night out in district 12. He continues down the path towards the main part of the district. Letting the sound of the wind be the only thing present in his mind before he decides to sit down at the hob and think more about his decisions in life so far.

As he nears the hob, he can hear the slight sound of music making its way through the open doors to the outside. Both young and old residents of the district out tonight and drinking, the only semblance of fun and normalcy you’ll find them indulging in despite the circumstances of their situations.

He walks in, immediately making a straight beeline towards the bar. Trying as hard as he can to ignore the lingering stares and pointed whispers of those who recognize him. The only lone alive victor of district 12. Eyes filled with both curiosity and pity as they follow his frame to the bar. All were surprised that he had decided to grace them with his presence for once. As his absence was growing long enough for him to almost be forgotten till the painful reminder on reaping day each year.

Haymitch settles onto the stool near the end of the bar, ordering whatever scarce brew is available for the night. Once it’s placed in front of him, it’s almost gone just as it was full. Already raising his hand to catch the attention of the bartender for another glass. Opting to ignore the judgmental stare and low warning given to him before the bartender hesitantly slides another glass his way.

Lost in thought of the nights earlier events and his second helping of beer, his mind is pulled away by the loud cheers of the people in the hob. Still nursing his beer, he takes a small peak from the corner of his eye to where everyone else’s attention is on to the girl twirling her way onto the stage with guitar in hand.

He’s a bit taken aback for a second, not ever having seen much of her before around the district or even hearing of her name. Yet, he might be the only clueless one as to who this girl is, he thinks. Spotting even, off duty peacekeepers who’ve decided to join in once they see the young woman take the stage.

“Well hey y’all!”, The girl beams, “Now just how might all of you fine folks out here in district 12 must be doing tonight?”

The crowd roars in excitement at the question. Never had he ever seen in life someone command the attention of a majority of a district in such a way that wasn’t related to the games. In a joyful way, nonetheless.

“Alright! Alright! Settle down y’all, I hear you all quite clearly, no need to go rupturing my ears now!”, You say as you playfully roll yours eyes at the crowd, “For those of you who may not know, or have been living under a rock, my name is Y/n Ivory!”

As the crowd around him laughs at the charming display of your personality in full force, Haymitch finds out he’s not immune to the power of your charisma either. He finds himself, still secluded in the dark corner of the room, cracking a small smile at your undeniable stage presence.

Pale white dress flowing freefully over your body landing just right above your knees with flowers woven through your hair and all. You’re the purest untainted vision of beauty he’s ever seen dancing in a place that has seen so much violence and pain as 12. It’s a wonder, he thinks to himself, how he’s gone so long without ever seeing or hearing of you.

He doesn’t know if he should be mad at himself for not getting out more or grateful for the fact that he chose to leave tonight. By having it lead him right here tonight as he watches you illuminate the room with every step you take and smile never breaking off of your face for even a second.

“Now don’t you worry, I’m gonna sing y’all a special one tonight,” you say, strumming the guitar as you continue to speak, “this one is a little tune some of you might know, a ballad we’ve all heard passed down, figured something slow is fitting for a nice night like this”

Haymitch watches you slightly clear your throat a little as you strum the chords on your worn leather guitar. He marvels at the intactness of it, such a prized possession to be in hold of that he’s sure has seen so much in its time. Figuring to himself that it has to be some sort of heirloom, as he knew at least no one, not even him, could afford such a luxury except if you lived in the capitol.

“ When I was a babe I fell down in the holler

when I was girl I fell into your arms

we fell on hard times and we lost our bright color

you went to the dogs and I lived by my charms ”

Your voice is sweet, he thinks. Melodically beautiful, just as he expected, yet it doesn’t take away his surprise nonetheless. The glide of the strings paired with your voice forces him to shake his head a bit just to make sure he wasn’t dead yet from the alcohol and your voice was mistaken as angel from above.

He concludes that regardless, there’s not much of a difference. As he takes in your frame, almost floating above the crowd as high as the sound of your lungs can take you, he figures that you might as well be an angel.

“ I danced for my dinners, spread kisses like honey

you stole and you gambled, and I said you should

we sang for our suppers, we drank up our money

then one day you left, saying I was no good

well, all right, I’m bad, but then you’re no prize either

all right, I’m bad, but then, that’s nothing new

you say you won’t love me, I won’t love you neither

just let me remind you what I am to you

‘cause I am the one who looks out when you’re leaping

I am the one who knows how you were brave

and I am the one who heard what you said sleeping

I’ll take that and more to my grave ”

The lyrics are familiar, he concludes to himself. He remembers the ballad well, one his mother would often sing to him & his sisters when they were younger. It would be a way for her to calm them down each night before a reaping.

He remembers the stories she would tell along with it, of how before the rebellion, there were these people who’d call themselves, “covey”, traveling from district to district singing to their hearts content for the enjoyment of others. She knew them well, she’d tell them. Telling them how the covey eventually settled into district 12.

His mother would talk about the nights where she would go to the hob and dance away. Making great friends with the girl who sang these infamous songs that had been passed down. The girl who also coincidentally introduced his mother to his father one night. Pushing his father until he asked his mother for a dance.

She would end each story by telling Haymitch, “well, now you know that you have someone to be thankful for making sure that you exist”.

The story seemed so mythical to him then, as it still does now. To think of a time when there was so much free will that people once held, especially outside of the Capitol’s restraints. To how something so frivolous as singing was enough to be one’s way of survival. A life of fulfillment and light melodies sung with no threat or existence of the games to ever ruin them.

The sound of Y/N’s voice sweetly coaxes him out of his thoughts. It is then, as he hears her, that he does believe in the stories. That if he continued to hear her voice for the rest of his life, it would be enough to ensure his survival for good. Not even the games would be enough to take him away from her. Not if he could help it.

This line of thinking scares him as it does entice him. He hasn’t felt this way since his first love, the one that they took away him. He feels like a teenager once again, heart practically bursting at the sight of the girl in front of him.

Her eyes roam the crowd as she continues singing, before they eventually catch his awe stricken expression. She smiles slightly, lightly fluttering her lashes at the attention. All before closing her eyes, swaying and losing herself in the music once again.

Not one for ever caring about appearances, he suddenly feels hyper aware of himself. He’s not used to feeling like this, he’s not quite sure how to process it. Just desperate, hoping that when her eyes linger a bit longer on him that she hopefully is feeling what he is too.

When she eventually looks away, he finds a part of himself chasing the high that she had bestowed upon him. Thinking how nothing could ever compare to the way he’s feeling now, not even the smooth liquor that would soothe his mind enough to make him forget things that have happened to him.

Now abandoning the half drank pint in front of him, he finds himself wanting to remember this night. This moment where he doesn’t need anything stronger than your presence to tell him that everything is okay.

The song ends, much to his dismay. The last few chords of your guitar lingering in the air before the hob breaks out in a harmonious applause, praises & hollers being shouted out your way. He watches you graciously thank the crowd, letting the band behind you take over. His eyes linger on you as you exit the stage, watching you laugh & thank everyone who meet on your way through the crowd.

It isn’t until he sees your frame slowly getting nearer that he suddenly feels shy, quickly diverting his attention down to his drink. Hands getting slightly clammy as he registers your sweet voice beside him, asking the bartender for a pint for yourself.

“Well my, my, to what do I owe the pleasure of dragging a victor out to one of my shows tonight?”, you say while letting out a slight giggle at the sight of him.

He’s a bit bewildered at first. Not exactly not knowing how to respond out of fear of embarrassing himself. His mouth slightly opens, letting out a playful scoff at the nickname victor, before replying back in the same playful manner you had.

“Just had to come down to hear what all the yapping around the district was about a pretty girl singing her heart out here each night”, he lightly flirts, hoping it lands well with her.

The action is thankfully welcomed as her laugh floats through the air. He wishes he could bottle the sound up so he could hear it over and over again.

“Now you’re just a peach aren’t you? Trying to butter me up .. hm?”, she says. Poking fun at his attempt of flirting before adding on, “And? Did I meet your expectations?”

His heart flutters at the question, chuckling to mask his nervousness that she so easily seems to trigger.

“That you did, sweetheart. Better than I could’ve thought”, he says, relishing in the way her wide eyed expression lights up at the praise he gives to her.

He feels himself mirroring her contagious smile. Nerves still present, but easing themselves when he sees her relaxing into his gaze.

“You’re a very sweet man, Haymitch Abernathy”, you tell him. Warmth slightly flooding your cheeks as his eyes remained fixed on you.

Quickly, taking the opportunity to glance away from the intense eye contact to take in the details about him. You take notice of the way his hair falls around his face, carefully framing it in a way that was too-professionally done to be of his own doing as the rest of the men in the district. A small testament to his time back and forth between his home and the calling of the Capitol. His slightly rugged appearance combats this, a small show of rebelliousness in the appearance the Capitol attempts to smooth over in a Victor, yet still seeming so distinctively him.

To anyone else, his demeanor would have been enough to ward off lingering stares here in the district. To you, it radiated a rare aura of comfort & warmth around him that you had never felt around another man before. You had wanted to get lost in it, envisioning yourself spending late mornings, running your fingers through his locks and humming a secret tune just for you both.

He chuckled dryly, swirling around the ale in his pint before glancing back up at you, “Sorry to disappoint sweetheart, tell anyone else here that and you might get a different answer”.

He watches as you cock your head to the side, a sly smile on your face, “Well good thing I wasn’t planning on asking anyone else”, sternness lacing your tone before scooting closer towards him, “Anyways, I think I like that I might be the only one in this damn district that can tell the difference”.

Haymitch could feel the way the way his heartbeat practically sped up, his hands fidgeting around the handle of the pint in front of him. Taking a deep breath before turning his attention back to the way your wide eyed gaze is fixated on him, eyes slowly analyzing him as if he’ll run right off. The thought crossed his mind for a minute, more so out of fear of embarrassing himself.

Taking a leap of faith, he brings his hand up to run his hand through a lock of your hair, tucking it behind the flower adorned between your ear. He hums at the pretty detail before plucking it to hold out in his palm, “A primrose?”.

You can feel your body still at the motion, warmth pooling in your chest at the feel of his hand. Carefully eyeing his expression, something that reads as a mixture of wonder and adoration at you. You remember to let out a small breath in the midst of the intimacy this situation, softly smiling as he hums in notice of the flower that lays against your hair.

“It was one of my mama’s favorites”, he can feel the wistfulness in your tone as you recall her, “She used to tell me stories of how my grandma and her great aunt would collect different flowers from their travels in the covey to use to bathe her and her cousins, since the borders between districts closed in the dark days, she gathered primroses here from the fields instead for me”.

He takes notice of the way you softly grasp onto his hand, your smooth palm contrasting with his hardened one and its tiny scars littered that hold unspoken memories of the arena. Your finger lightly traces the petals he holds in his palm, he watches as the mixture of nostalgia and sadness battle in your mind as you recall these memories.

Haymitch feels his own heart twinge, thinking back to what he can remember of his own mother, her voice, her stories, her mannerisms, anything. There’s a thick layer of understanding in the air between the two of you, unspoken feelings and experiences of loss and familiarity. The scattered chattering of the hob and instrumentals seem far away as the two of you take in each other’s presence.

He makes the first move to break the stillness between you two, bringing his hand back up to place the flower in your hair once again. You sigh softly as you feel his hand go to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb softly tracing back & forth on your skin. Haymitch feels the ghost of a smile threatening to overtake his lips as he feels your nestle your face further into his grasp before asking, “Would you wanna get out of here?”.

You softly nod at his question, not trusting your own voice to betray you and tremble at the delicateness in which he’s treating you. Standing up, you envelope your hand into his as his other finds it’s way onto your waist to lead you through the crowd. A motion so easily done as if it is second nature to you both. There is nothing but comfort and safeness in the act.

The cold air hits you both as you walk out, not feeling quite sure if the goosebumps forming on your skin is a result of that or the proximity of the man that still has a firm hold on you. You don’t seem to mind either way. You take a small peek over to him, watching the internal battle with himself as it plays on his face, eyebrows creased in deep thought. Yet still, he holds onto you, as if it’ll ground him.

You stop walking after a minute or so, watching the confusion in his expression as he snaps out of his thoughts. You pull him over to the small alley way, taking his face in both of your hands and forcing him to look into your eyes. His eyes trace over your questioning expression, taking a hard swallow before he speaks, “I .. I haven’t done this in a long time, sweetheart”.

“And what exactly are we doing?”, you say while lightly laughing.

He feels his nerves dissipate little by little at the sound of your amusement, still battling with the lingering fear in the back of his mind. He hesitates in his action, slowly leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, hands tightening their hold around your waist.

He can feel your breath hitch, your nose slightly touching against his own as your lips part, begging for him to make a move.

“If I do this, I don’t think I’d want to ever have another day where you’re not near me, at least to where I know you’re safe”, he whispers gently as his lips begin to ghost above yours.

“You won’t have to, I’ll be right here”, you whisper back. Your voice filled with reassurance and desperation, willing to give almost every part of you to him if it takes.

You feel the wind knocked out of you, as if you’ve forgotten to know how to breathe once you feel his lips against your own. Your mouths molding perfectly against one another as if this is what you’ve both have been waiting for your entire lives.

You whine softly as he deepens the kiss, his mouth claiming you with purpose. Whether it’s his way of subconsciously ensuring to himself that he won’t let anything happen to you or to convey his own worthiness to you, he can’t tell. The only thing taking up space in his mind being the way you sound as he familiarizes himself with you, tongue exploring yours while his hands grasp at your body.

You both finally break apart after what feels like an eternity, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. Unable to shake the burning feeling of that his lips left against yours in their wake. Your lids flutter open, already finding his gaze with what reads as both love and protectiveness staring back at you.

“I …”, he clears his throat before finding a way to gather the right words he wants to say to you. He goes over every possibility of what this could mean between the two of you, of letting you in. It would be easier if he could just act like this was meaningless, that he could walk away now and never think of it again. But as with everything else, he knows that you will ruminate in the back of his mind forever with no avail. Not now that he already has you in his arms.

“I won’t be able to give you much”, is all he is able to choke out. A twinge of disappointment lacing his words.

“That’s okay, I’m not looking for much anyways”, you hum. You tip your head up slightly to look at him, “Just want you, it’ll be enough for me”.

“Yeah?”, he says softly. His eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, relief blossoming in his chest when he doesn’t find any. The only thing staring back him being the firmness in your vulnerability as you hold him in your palm. He pulls his hand from your waist to grab ahold of your hand against his face, bringing your knuckles to his lips, before leaning back in to press another kiss to your lips.

A part of him knows that it’ll always never be this simple. He will do his best to make sure he can protect you from what he can, if it ever comes to it. But right here, right now, in this moment. It’s not something even, Snow himself, can ever take from him.

[smok3r7]

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader 

Explicit, 18+ 

Butterflies & Broken Glass

 Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: Moving on isn’t always the easiest and honestly takes a long time. But does it ever get better when old wounds get ripped open? 

Word count: 3k

—

 “So,” your mom starts “Are you ready to talk ‘bout, you know, it?” 

   The sound of her knife hitting the cutting board after slicing through a carrot pierces your ears. You don’t answer her, you continue to peel the batch of potatoes and carrots that sit in this metal strainer under a running tap. She also says nothing and continues to chop the vegetables you pass to her as if you’re on an assembly line. 

   You’re not sure if you are, but you’ve avoided it as long as you could. It’s weird that it feels like years ago and, simultaneously, feels like hours ago. But it’s been three months, going on four next week. The reality of the break up, however, hit you the second week you came home, and it was brutal. 

   And since then, you haven’t been the same. 

   Bella and Kelly have tried everything to help you; consistent phone calls from Kels since she’s still in DC, and Bella coming over whenever she can - which is all the time. But you just can’t shake the utter pain and heartbreak that pours out of your skin, and the only person who can help you through this, is your mom. 

   She’s been through most, if not all, of the hardest and toughest things you’ve been dealt with. She’s your real ride or die bestie. So even though you're not ready to discuss it, evidently you have to - for your own sake. If you’re going to move on with your life, move on from Aaron Hotchner, you have to talk about it. 

   “Not much to talk about, really.” You lie one more time. You’re not sure why you do - you chalk it up to your subconscious mind not being ready to properly handle this or that your mom will drop it. 

   The sound of your moms chopping stops and you hear her sigh. She’s not gonna leave it alone. The cold water flows through your fingers, causing them to go numb and start to sting when there are no vegetables left to rinse. So you know you’re stuck listening to what she has to say, so you figure you might as well just take it. 

   “Well, I’m tired of you sittin’ on your ass ‘n mopin’ around all fuckin’ day for the past few months. That’s not the daughter I raised.” By the loudness of her words you can tell she’s now facing you, but you’re too afraid to turn around. Too embarrassed. Too ashamed of yourself. 

   She barks your name and orders you to turn the water off and look at her, which you do, but not before you grab a sheet of paper towel to dry your stinging hands. You do this very slowly, to the point where you feel like it’s in slow motion. You know she’s not going to do anything but just try to understand where your head is at, and maybe scold you just a bit because of your actions - or lack of, for that matter - but you know she means well and she just wants to make sure her little girl is okay. 

   Looking into her eyes, you break. The bubble in your throat finally bursts. As you lunge forward, your moms arms open and welcome you with love and affection as she wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders. 

   You cry and cry, until no tears are left. 

—

   Your senses are overwhelmed; the smells of plants and people from the park overpower you, the sight of the masses of people panics you just a little, and the sound of music playing in one ear and screams of small children on the playground in the other keeps you alert. Your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest, while your lungs work overtime to keep you going - the cool morning weather making it harder to catch your breath. 

   The white gazebo is now within sight as you jog past the large playground that’s packed with children of all ages with their families. Saturdays during the summer are the busiest days at Richmond park, so you always take that into account when you go on your daily run. 

   But this morning is different. Instead of going to your usual civil court office, like you have for the past eleven years, you’re waiting on an important email from Erin Strauss. The section chief of the BAU in Quantico, the very job you’ve been working so hard for. Your second interview was three days ago and it went pretty well considering how judgmental and difficult Strauss was. 

   You honestly weren’t sure if you were going to get the job because Strauss was picking apart every tiny thing about you; where and how you grew up, what college you attended, what’s so important about joining the BAU, and whether you can hold your own when it comes to a career with something like the FBI. You felt like you were being stabbed with each one of her questions, but you figured that she’s just like that, with a job requiring a brutal sort of honesty.

   Catching your breath, you raise your arms above your head and fold them over so the air can flow freely through your body. Standing on the steps of the gazebo, you step in a small circle to get a bearing on your surroundings, making sure to note anything that seems out of the ordinary. Too many women have been getting assaulted or mugged recently, so you’re always scanning your environment. To add another element of security, you own a black 9mm, which is currently in your car in the parking lot just a few feet away. You have your carry permit, but it doesn’t do much good when you’re in leggings and a sports bra. 

   Your mom was extremely concerned about you living by yourself and forty-five miles away from her, so she and Anthony convinced you to go to the gun range to become familiar. Then, after about four months of that, you decided you felt comfortable and educated enough to own a gun, for your safety. 

   While doing one last spin, you lower your arms and reach for your phone in your side pocket. Your breathing is now steady and regulated, so you can focus more on yourself and your surroundings. 

   Pausing your music and taking out your one earbud, you notice an email from Strauss and you instantly feel proud. You really did it, you really made it to your dream job. It felt almost impossible; after eleven years, you were about to give up hope about this job. But your inner child put up a huge fight against it and ultimately won. There was no way in hell that you would give up on this dream of yours. It was going to happen one way or another. 

   You open the email as you start walking to your car, but before you can read past the names copied in the email, you freeze. 

   Your stomach drops to the cement below your sneakers, your heart rate increases rapidly, and your mind somehow is silent but screaming at the same time. There’s no way this is possible, you never thought this would happen. 

   Hotchner, Aaron

   —

   “You haven’t even seen him since graduation right?” 

   “Kels…yes! I never thought I’d ever see him again, let alone have to work with him, under him even!” 

   “Under him, hehe,” Bella murmurs to herself into her glass of wine as she takes a sip. 

   You glance to your right and she diverts her eyes to her feet, away from your judgy eyes.

   Immediately after you received the email and got back into your car to head back to your house, you called the girls over for a wine and bitch night. Something the three of you started once Kelly ended things with Jason six years ago and moved five minutes away from you and Bella, who lives only four houses apart. 

   Kelly has her own law firm and has done extremely well for herself. However, you do feel bad about how Jason and her ended things. Long story short, she caught him bringing random women back to their home constantly. But what makes it even worse is they have a seven year old daughter. A newborn at the time she kicked him out and never wanted to see him again, Jason hasn’t seen his daughter since then either. 

   You have no idea how Kelly is still able to be this bubbly person, but she is. You and Bella help Kelly whenever she needs it, especially when it comes to her daughter Lilly; babysitting, picking up or dropping off from school, picking up dinner some nights, and anything else. 

   You’ll be damned if anything else happens to Kelly and Lilly, they are least deserving of any treatment like that from Jason. 

   “So, have you replied to her email?” Bella questions as she takes a bite of stringy pizza, wiping the corners of her mouth after. 

   “She told me I didn’t have to. Just to make sure I read it before I go in on Wednesday, which I thought was a weird day to start but what do I know?” 

   “So, like… how are you feelin’ about all this?” Bella chimes in again, but with a tone that lets you know she is trying to be sincere. 

   Your right hand instinctively raises to your necklace and you start to fidget with it … the heart necklace from Aaron. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. You really don’t know how to feel about this, especially when you erased him from your memory almost completely so you could figure out how to move on. 

   After so long, the thought of Aaron became less and less, even though you still wear the one piece of jewelry from him. It’s been the one thing that you haven’t been able to let go of and you haven’t had a reason to understand why, but now it almost seems like this was meant to happen. The universe never wanted you to forget about him, but you also wonder if he’s ever stopped thinking about you. 

   He had to have noticed your name, just like you did his. But what does that mean? You wonder if he had any say in hiring you or if this is all Strauss’s work, because those two things have very different meanings behind them and those two people have very different motives. 

   “Do you think you’ll be okay?” Bella sits up and rests her hand on your bare thigh, shaking you back to reality. 

   You raise your eyes to her and give the best fake smile you can show and lightly nod your head, I’m gonna try. 

—

   You have an excellent first day baby, call me when you’re home. Love you! 

   Standing in the elevator, you read your moms text message with a warm smile. You didn't tell her about Aaron being your boss, that’ll be a deep conversation for later. 

   Thank you, love you mama! 

   The elevator dings, stops and the metal door slides open before a gorgeous, black haired woman walks in, and you both give a slight smile to each other as you move to give her some room. She goes to press the number six, for the BAU, but she notices you already have it pressed. 

   “Oh, you must be the new girl that Hotch was telling everyone about,” she confidently tells you. “Emily Prentiss.” She reaches her hand out, which you confidently take and introduce yourself to her. 

   So he does remember me…what did he tell them? 

   “Welcome to the world of horrible things people are capable of, you’ll come to learn a lot!” She shakes her head slightly, “But it seems like you can stomach it, I mean, you made it into the BAU which is huge in itself.” 

   The same time you chuckle, the metal doors open again and you’re met with a small hallway with glass doors that have the Seal of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s logo on them. It’s busy with agents walking from one hallway to the other, all on a mission (or at least that’s what it looks like). You can finally release that breath that’s been sitting in your chest since you woke up this morning. 

   “Well, let’s go introduce you to the team,” Emily announces as she slightly nudges your lower back, “I got you, girl, don’t worry.” 

   Turning your body to the side so she can lead the way, you smile, “Thank you.” 

   Now, past the glass doors, you’re met with an open layout office with desks together to make squares. Emily walks past the first couple and heads to the next set, where a group of four gather around one’s desk. Your nerves build just a little bit, but you shove them down for your first impressions. You’re not going to allow Aaron the satisfaction of knowing he’s messing with your head. 

   “Listen up, kids!” Emily announces, catching everyone’s attention but you see how all their eyes move to you and then back to Emily. She steps to the side, almost showcasing you off to them as she tells them your name and that you’re officially joining the team. 

   With your leather brown purse hanging from your shoulder, a large confident smile comes across your face as you wave to them with your right hand, hi guys! 

   “I was just asking J.J when you were coming in, I’m Penelope Garcia!” This vibrant colored blonde reaches her bejeweled wrist out to greet you, which you happily take. 

   “My official first day!” You cheer, “So excited to be a part of your team!” 

   Over the next ten minutes you learn a whole lot about the team. And you overall, love them all already. They’re all just full of character and personality, which you’re always looking for in a work environment.

   J.J, the original liaison turned official Supervisory Special Agent and mom of two healthy boys. Spencer Reid, the impossibly smart guy, you have no clue that anyone could be as smart as him. Derek Morgan, the player and muscle of the team for sure, this man is flirtatious but in a fun way - he’s not rude or arrogant in the slightest. David Rossi, one of the original FBI agents and the old Italian man that reminds you a lot of what your mom described of her grandfather. Penelope Garcia, the technical genius and the brightest and most animated woman you have ever seen. Emily Prentiss, the pure badass and smartass of the team, is almost a mixture of the team all around. 

   Jokes and history are being shared amongst everyone, but there’s a huge elephant in the room. Even with the laughs from the team, the tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Where is he? 

   “Dad’s here!” 

   You hear Derek whisper, trying to not make a scene…which doesn’t work because everyone turns their head. Everyone except you. You’re caught staring at J.J, who sits in her office chair with her blonde eyebrows raised, and her lips purse as she slowly spins to face her desk. 

   Morning. 

   There it is. The voice you’ve ached to be able to hear again, but will deny if ever asked. From the one and only man you’ve ever longed for and have loved since you met him over a lifetime ago. The man you’ve lost sleep over from just wishing you could redo it all over so you and him didn’t go separate ways. The voice that distracts you from work when you’re alone in your office and you’re not sure why. The memories of you and him on date nights flourish your brain when you’re with friends, even though you thought you and him were done completely. The voice you thought you had erased from your memory, but just like that, the memories and feelings come right back like you’re in college again. 

   Aaron. 

   Just like that, he stops dead in his tracks. His back now to you about a desk away, his broad shoulders tense under his black suit. You watch the way his back stiffens and he takes a deep breath in and stands for a moment, but he doesn’t turn around. You’re not sure why you said his name just now, it’s almost scary how natural his name spewed out of your mouth. There was just no way that you couldn’t not say anything to him right now, it just didn’t seem right. 

   My office is all he says with the most monotone voice you have ever heard from him. You’re almost speechless, almost. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you push your tongue into the side of your left cheek - what in the fuck? If he’s going to make this into a thing that it doesn’t need to be, you’re going to lose your shit because you know he can be an adult when it’s needed. 

   “Uh oh, trouble in paradise…” Derek mumbles with a smile that goes from ear to ear. Garcia hits his arm and tells him to shut up, but you can’t help but laugh at him. 

   “Little do you know, pretty boy.” You crack back at him with a wink as you start your way towards the small set of steps that lead to his office. A small giggle fest starts behind you and you can’t help but feel incredible, you’re fitting in so well already and you’re honestly not even worried about what Aaron will do or say. 

   You already know this job is going to be tough. 

   But so worth it. 

[atinycafe]

hard hours thought LORD all I can think about is cocky and mean dom wooyoung who teases the poor reader until their overstimulated and crying (if you can't tell I'm a slut for mean doms oh my god I'm foaming at the mouth)

warnings: nsfw under the cut, fem bodied reader, dom wooyo, slight dumbification, clit play, use of pet names (woo, wooyi, baby), mean wooyoung!!!, slight dacryphilia, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don't do that), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, reader lowkey has a degradation kink, cream pie, slight hair pulling, slight manhandling, 3.3k wrds author's notes: yes yes YES, bae you're a visionary i was alr writing something like that be4 you even wrote that request, mean doms r the best masterlist

"you're not going out wearing that dress," he says, as you step out of your hotel room and into the living room, having just finished getting ready with your makeup and hair done, holding your heels in your hands. perplexed, you glance down at the small, flowing white dress, then back up at him.

he sits on the white couch before you, legs spread wide, meticulously adjusting one of the cuffs of his snug white dress shirt. the shirt clings tightly to his well-defined chest and biceps, which flex as he tries to fasten a button at his wrist. you try to ignore the effect his physique has on you and focus on the matter at hand.

"what's wrong with it?" you inquire, a hint of uncertainty in your voice. you gaze down at yourself again and then turn to the floor-to-ceiling mirror beside you, searching for any flaw in the dress.

"you're just not going out dressed like that," he repeats, his eyes fixated on your exposed legs. the dress barely covers your buttocks, accentuating your thighs. once again, you shift your attention to the mirror, puzzled about what he finds objectionable.

"but it's a cute dress, bought it especially for our trip in venice," you reply tentatively, unsure if he genuinely dislikes the garment. your hands smooth over your stomach and love handles in an attempt to flatten any bumps caused by the fabric. "don't you think it's pretty?"

"yes, baby," he sighs, rising from the couch. he runs a hand through his purple locks and approaches you from behind, standing tall and strong as he gazes at your reflection in the mirror. he places his hands atop yours, just above your navel, and leans in to whisper in your ear, "the dress looks stunning on you. that's precisely why i don't want you to wear it outside. don't want men seeing all this, only i can do that baby"

suddenly, realization dawns upon you, and what wooyoung thought would be a sweet compliment strikes you in the wrong way. you push his hands away and turn to face him, gasping and lightly hitting his firm chest.

"you bought it for me!" you exclaim indignantly, and he responds with equal surprise, a pout forming on his face.

"i gave you my card, but i didn't buy shit," he places a hand on his chest, playfully brushing off imaginary dust.

"i showed you the picture before i ordered it!" you remind him.

both of you were lounging on the couch in your south korean home, shoulders brushing against each other. he was engrossed in the game displayed on the large tv screen, controlling virtual players as they chased after a basketball. his thumbs moved forcefully over the buttons of his controller, while you found yourself fixated on an online shop, absentmindedly nibbling on your thumb as you scrolled through various dress colors. "babe, should i go for the pink dress or the white one?" you had asked, holding the phone up to his face, partially obscuring his view of the nba 2k23 game. he whined, shifting to the side and slumping on the couch in an attempt to get a better glimpse of the ongoing match. you playfully straddled his lap, feeling the strength of his thighs beneath the shorts he wore, pouting at the lack of attention. when he continued to ignore you, you reached out and placed your hand on his bulge, successfully capturing his focus as he turned to you with surprise. he pushed his gaming headset microphone up, muting himself completely, and raised an eyebrow at you. biting your lip, you ground against his bulge, your skilled fingers knowing just how and where to apply pressure. he tossed the controller aside onto the couch, his now-free hands finding their way to your waist, pressing firmly against your flesh. just as he leaned in to kiss your neck, you pushed his chest away, firmly holding him against the couch. you thrust your phone in front of his face. "pink or white?" you scrolled between the two dress pictures, and wooyoung glanced at you, a hint of annoyance in his expression. he quickly glanced at the phone in a disinterested manner before snatching it away and tossing it beside his controller. "white, baby. now move and let me fuck you. my dick hurts," he exclaimed, his voice filled with desire.

wooyoung rolls his eyes, fully aware of what you're trying to do. "you damn well know i wasn't looking at no picture."

you move past him, making your way to the couch he had occupied just a moment ago, and begin slipping one heel onto your foot, struggling with the pesky little latch. you bite your lip, forcefully closing your mouth, briefly contemplating asking wooyoung for help with the heels. "i'm not changing, woo," you assert, not even bothering to look up from your task.

"baby, come here. let me show you something," he calls out in a gentle tone, beckoning you with two fingers. reluctantly, you get up, leaving one foot bare on the floor.

once you're within his reach, he swiftly grabs you and maneuvers you so that you're facing him. he bends you slightly, placing a hand on your shoulder and another on the lower part of your back. as you're bent, he moves his nearest hand to your face, forcing you to turn and gaze at your reflection in the mirror.

as you continue to stare at yourself, your eyes fall upon the edge of your dress, which does absolutely nothing to conceal the flesh at the bottom of your buttocks. you were aware that the dress was on the smaller side, but you didn't realize it rode up this high.

embarrassment floods your face as you imagine how mortifying it would have been to walk outside like that and only notice later. you notice wooyoung's smirk as he witnesses your expression crumble, and you bite the inside of your cheek. he's right, but you'd rather perish than admit it. so, you push his hands away, feigning indifference.

"my butt looks cute," you shrug nonchalantly, staring back at him. he gazes at you with annoyance, clenching his jaw, "i don't mind if people look at it." his tone is firm and leaves no room for argument as he issues his order.

"well, i do mind, so go put on some pants."

"or what?" you smirk internally, observing how his ears start turning red and the veins in his neck become more pronounced. he's so adorable when he's angry, and you can't resist challenging him. besides, he always fucks you exceptionally well when he's like this.

"watch your tone, i'm not playing with you."

bingo. now all you need to do is push him a little further until he snaps, and you know you're in for an unforgettable night.

"you're so insecure. do you think 'm going to find someone better than you out there? is that why you're acting like this?" you giggle mischievously, managing to attach the little strap to your ankle, stretching your foot as you admire your recent pedicure.

"one more word," he reaches for his patek watch, unlatching the lock and removing it. you stare at him, letting out a small hum of confusion. he remains silent as he places the silver watch on the nearby furniture, gripping the wood tightly until his fingers turn white. he chuckles, "one more word, and i'll fuck you until you're crying on my cock."

he notices the subtle clench of your thighs, but his expression remains composed, his gaze piercing through you. innocently tilting your head, you look up at him with big doe eyes for a moment before dropping the act and revealing a sly smirk.

"do you think i'll find a man with a bigger dick than yours out there?" you ask, resting your chin on your palm. in just two strides, he's in front of you, gripping your hair tightly in his fist. you bite your lip, fighting the urge to smile.

"such an attention whore," he whispers, and you hold your breath in anticipation. "should i fuck the attitude out of you? you'd like that, would you?"

you nod, and he snorts, but there's no amusement in his eyes, and his laughter feels purely mocking. "what a slut. i bet you're already soaking," he mutters, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he lifts you up by your hair, making you whine before ordering you to be quiet.

he turns you around and forcefully bends you over the sofa, your delicate hands finding their place on the armrest. without giving you a moment to think, he swiftly pulls your dress up and yanks your lacy panties down to your heels. a dry chuckle escapes him as he notices the glistening trail of your arousal connecting your panties to your swollen pussy, and you flush with embarrassment.

"don't tease," you whisper as you feel him collect your wetness on his finger, gliding over your folds but intentionally ignoring your throbbing clit. he delivers a harsh slap to the inside of your thigh before tightening his grip on your hair.

"do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? know your fucking place," he growls, his voice laced with a commanding edge, as he swiftly retrieves the abandoned panties and tucks them away in the depths of his pocket. asserting his dominance, he places a strong hand on your back, urging you to arch your body in submission. enthralled by his forceful touch, you release blissful moans, your face seeking refuge in the shelter of your forearms.

"no you don't get to hide."

he raises you from your previous position, effortlessly hoisting you onto his shoulder, your body perched upon his frame. in a bold display of dominance, he delivers a stinging slap to your butt, evoking a surprised squeal to escape your lips. as he strides into the room, you find yourself airborne for a moment before landing upon the bed, the impact causing a playful bounce. your dress rides up, revealing your bareness, laying it bare for his eyes to behold.

with a gaze filled with smoldering intensity, he casts his eyes upon you. nonchalantly, he unfastens the top buttons of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of his chest, and methodically rolls up his sleeves, exposing the sinewy veins on his forearms. the sight of his pulsating veins elicits a whimper from deep within you, anticipation building as drool pools within your mouth. without hesitation, he seizes your ankle, firmly dragging you towards the edge of the bed.

"didn't shut your mouth when i told you so i'll shut it for you," he asserts firmly. swiftly retrieving your black lacy panties from his pocket, he presses them into your mouth with a forceful intensity, effectively stifling your cries, while the taste of your essence lingers upon your tongue. unzipping his pants, he exposes his fully aroused and throbbing member, its vibrant hue accentuated by its eager glisten, "so fucking loud."

he positions the tip of his member, allowing it to penetrate only an inch before he locks eyes with you, "beg." a smirk dances upon his lips, knowing full well your current predicament leaves you unable to utter a word. the fabric restricts the passage of air, pressing against the beginning of your throat. as he catches the sound of your muffled whimpers, he feigns concern and queries, "you don't want this dick? thought you were my dumb cockslut, thought you were my cum dump, you don't wanna beg?"

as you begin nodding frantically in response to his words, a smile creeps across his face. he observes the tears streaming down your cheeks, evidence of the ache within your pussy. despite his proximity, there remains a tantalizing distance between you, heightening your sense of helplessness. as you clench around his crimson tip, you feel the faintest of thrusts, the motion minuscule yet undeniably present, intensifying your sobs. his grin widens as he witnesses the drool spilling from your lips, relishing in the control he holds over you. "fuck, i love it when you cry, makes me so hard."

responding to your fervent plea, he swiftly retrieves the panties from your mouth, granting your desire to speak. without missing a beat, you launch into a desperate plea, your voice filled with longing and need. "pleaase please pleaseee, wooyi i need it so bad, give it to me." your begging appears to have an effect, as he places a hand upon your trembling thighs, parting them gently to create more space, heightening the anticipation. yet, despite the enticing position, he remains motionless.

"who's my dumb slut, mmh?" he grunts. in response, you mumble a string of submissive affirmations, your voice barely audible as you confirm your role with each whispered "me." finally, yielding to his desires, he thrusts deeply, fully penetrating you. "i've been too nice with you, too lenient you forgot your place." with each snap of his hips, you emit a piercing cry, your fists clenching tightly onto the blanket beneath you, lost in a whirlwind of overwhelming sensations.

"such an attention whore," he moans, "i thought you were mine alone, but clearly, for a cock-hungry slut like you, nothing is ever enough." his relentless thrusts reverberate through the room, the rhythmic collision of thighs filling the air, while his pubic bone grinds harshly against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasurable fuzziness cascading through your body.

"'m sorry nngh only you," you whine, feeling the tightening in your stomach as your next orgasm looms near. "please, let me…mngh, cum. please, please?" you babble out, your desperation evident in your words. wooyoung responds with a hearty laugh, his large hands pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs.

"you're so fucking dumb, i can't even understand you. always talking back now look at you, y'can't even speak," he pants, his tone dripping with a mix of condescension and control. bringing his thumb to your swollen clit, he rubs it with a cruel and unyielding pressure. "baby wanna cum?" you nod eagerly, your hair swaying with the movement, tears streaming down the sides of your face, "then cum."

in just a matter of seconds, the overwhelming intensity engulfs you, causing your stomach to tighten and a high-pitched whine to escape your lips. expecting him to cease his actions and provide respite, you attempt to take a deep breath, but to your dismay, he continues without relenting. panic grips your senses as you desperately try to convey that it's becoming too much, that you need him to stop. yet, as you lock eyes with wooyoung's hooded gaze, a smirk playing across his face, the realization dawns upon you. this is your punishment. you should have known better. it had been far too easy to coax him into fucking you. normally, he would relish in being just as much as a brat as you, drawing out the tantalizing foreplay for hours, until your begging reached the point of voicelessness. fighting fire with fire.

"s'too much, woo, no, please," you plead, the desperation heavy in the room. however, since you haven't used your safe word yet, wooyoung's pace remains unyielding. he pinches down on your swollen clit, causing a silent scream to escape your lips, your back arching from the bed. your nails dig harshly into the skin of his hands. "why would i listen to you?" he taunts, his words laced with a hint of retribution. "you're nothing but a brat who refuses to listen to me, s'only fair if i get back at you, don't you think so? isn't that what you wanted."

you find yourself devoid of the strength to respond, only broken gasps escaping your trembling lips. your eyes roll back into their sockets as he lifts one of your legs, positioning your white heel on his shoulder, allowing him to hit a deeper spot.

the climax engulfs you once more, sweeping you away in a torrent of pleasure and desperation. a cry escapes your lips, a fusion of ecstasy and yearning. as you gaze back up at wooyoung, your chest rising and falling rapidly, he returns your gaze with a gentle smile. his cold hand brushes against your cheek, caressing it tenderly. finally you're done. you smile back, matching the softness in his expression. however, his laughter startles you, shattering the illusion. "you really thought we were done huh." your eyes widen when he snaps his dick into, the collapse harsh on your clit which makes more tears come out of your face.

the pain courses through your body, causing tremors to ripple across your trembling form, yet you know that the discomfort will soon transform into pure pleasure. wooyoung tenderly takes hold of your ankle, planting a gentle kiss upon it, momentarily offering a contrast to the intensity of his actions. a flicker of hope ignites within you, driving you to beg once more, maybe he'll stop after this one if you manage to convince him. "w-woo, baby, please," you stammer, your voice fractured and strained, your tongue heavy and uncooperative. "i c-can't do it anymore mnngh 'm sorry so sorry sorry s'too much,"

"my baby's so dumb, of course you can take it. i know your body more than you do. you can give me another one. acted like a slut now you get to be one, so take it." with a hand pressed firmly against your stomach, his thrusts begin to slow down, each one deep and forceful, "need to cum in you baby, can't stop until you're filled with my cum, need to see it dripping from your pretty pussy, need to see you cry."

as you nod, you release uncontrollable sobs, your tears intermingling with the shared intensity of the moment. your desperate desire to please him consumes you entirely. as he begins to vocalize his own pleasure, moans escaping his lips, you know that he's nearing his climax. your mind flickers in and out of consciousness, the sheer magnitude of pleasure rendering you temporarily lost in a blissful haze.

"you're so good for me, so fucking good around me, fucking made for me. only me, nobody else," he rambles, as he releases himself inside you, his head falling back to reveal the inviting expanse of his neck. the sensation of his warm seed filling your quivering walls pushes you to the precipice. overwhelmed by pleasure, your body convulses in a powerful climax, marking your third orgasm of the night.

after withdrawing from you, he maintains a firm grip on your ankle, using his thigh to keep your legs open. as he tucks himself back into his pants, his gaze remains fixated on the sight of his cum slowly oozing out of your well-used hole. a silent contemplation lingers in the air before a smile graces his lips. he tenderly pulls your dress back into place, ensuring your modesty is restored. bending down over you, he gazes at your exhausted visage, wet with tears and traces of drool clinging to your chin.

he affectionately licks your chin, savoring the remnants of drool before capturing your lips in a passionate and messy kiss. despite your exhaustion, you muster the energy to respond, your tired lips meeting his. within the intimate embrace, he smiles, his satisfaction evident.

"did so good for me baby, next time just shut your mouth when i tell you to."

[melliae]

The Last Boss in Persona 3

This is more of a continuation to my previous post (in Tumblr, here) about the meaning behind the Universe arcana. This post will follow the same main idea of my previous one: to analyze the meaning of final boss within the series through using esoteric and psychoanalitical concepts.

Now, before analyzing everything, it'll be better to first summarize the final boss' lore:

“The mother of all Shadows and bringer of death since ancient times. If she awakens, ‘the Fall’ will occur.” - Persona 3 Portable (I wanted to use the japanese version, but I haven’t found any perfect save for P3P/FES in japanese, or a ISO for Vanilla)

That’s almost everything that the game says in relation to what Nyx is, and it’s just a repetition of what Ryoji explained in December. There’s some interesting comments the cultists give during January, like how it “will change the flow of causality” or is an “Absolute Will” (“普遍の意志”, or “Universal/Omnipresent Will”), but their nature is obviously biased. It’s not until the release of the P3 Club Book that its lore becomes clearer, and which I’m going to summarize as it follows:

Nyx” is not actually called “Nyx”, but it’s a nameless entity classified as some sort of “Star Eater” that, eons ago and in a dormant state, crashed against the hadean earth (4.5 billions of years ago).

Due to both its dormant state and it’s strange material composition, existing between “mass and information” (similar to the Velvet Room), both the earth and the Star Eater survived the impact, but not without consequences: a lot of the earth’s matter came off and covered the Eater’s body, creating the moon – the Persona version of the “giant impact theory”.

However, that’s only in regards to the body, because its psyche got separated from the body and “flooded” earth’s surface, putting at risk the existing, but primitive life (ie. amoebas) on it due to its anathemic nature.

Life, driven completely by its instinct to survive, sealed the psyche within themselves, limiting their lifespan (ie. creating death) as well as allowing their psychological development, ending in both the creation of consciousness and the collective unconscious.

As you can see, there’s a good reason Nyx is called the “maternal entity”: its very own soul is what allowed the birth of humanity and all forms of complex life, explaining why it was named “Nyx” by the Kirijos – just as the greek deity give birth to all sort of deities that shape the human experience, the Star Eater made possible its existence. The same applies to its title as “mother of Shadows”, because its psyche wasn’t only sealed within the depths of the collective unconscious by life’s drive to live, but also became an essential part of the human soul as well: their Shadow. So it’s not that “she” is the mother of Shadows, but that Shadows are Nyx, and we all know how important they are.

“The Shadows we hold in our psyches themselves are not just mere prisoners, but have become an essential part of the inner structure of our minds. Without a Shadow, a mind - especially one as highly complex as that of a human being - cannot function properly and ceases to work, as if it had been lost entirely.” – Ikutsuki, P3 Club Book

“What I released from the Trapezohedron just now was the half of that woman that could not come to life until now: her complexes, her emotional trauma–her suppressed Shadow, if you will. And you learned on the other side what happens should you kill the mind’s Shadow, didn’t you? How ironic that it was all of you who made her this way.” - The Faceless God (Nyarlathotep’s Avatar), Tatsuya’s Scenario (referencing Yukino’s end if her Shadow jumps into the abyss).

“If we erase a Palace, there is no doubt that the person’s distorted desires will be erased as well. But desires are what we all need in order to survive. The will to sleep, eat, fall in love–those sort of things. [...] If all those yearnings were to vanish, they’d be no different than someone who was shut entirely. They may even die if they’re not given care.” - Morgana, Persona 5

The shadow men, apathy syndrome, mental shutdowns, and psychotic breakdowns… All of them are manifestations of what happens when the Shadow of an individual is disturbed or destroyed: the collapse of the individual psyche or soul. That means it’s equally valid to affirm Nyx is the origin of both all Shadows and souls in the series, becoming even clearer when see how the personality module of the anti-shadow weapons, their “papillion heart”, is made out of plumes of dusk, crystalline fragments of Nyx’s body. This is further strengthened by Sho Minzauki’s second personality, born out of the plume implanted on his brain, and Metis as the Shadow of Aigis, bearing the name of Athena’s mother and her Persona being the embodiment of the soul in greek mythos.

It’s easy to see, then, that Nyx is not just “another god” (without the intention to diss Izanami, Yaldabaoth and the rest), but a primordial aspect of the life’s collective psyche (ie. the unconscious). That’s why it’s called the “Universal/Absolute Will”, for “she” is all around life and humanity, being the “ground of being” from which all their potentials come from, for even the very own power of Persona is nothing but something derived from the “small Nyx” acting as the foundation of one’s psyche. Even the capability to alter space-time and reality inherent to life is derived from it, even in Tadashi’s trilogy.

“Mitsuru: These people are Persona Users who appeared in “Megami Ibunroku Persona”, “Persona 2: Innocent Sin” and “Persona 2: Eternal Punishment”. As far as we can see from what’s been shown on television, they seem to be living peaceful lives right now. [...] Akihiko: Still, those guys are Persona Users, right? They have the potential, yet I haven’t heard anything about people like that trying to help out with the things that have been happening here in the Minato Ward… Mitsuru: Well, you have to consider that not all of them might be Persona Users any longer. [...] According to the staff, in our game, the “Value of Life” is defined by the sudden changes in time and space that our wills can bring about. We’ve already explained that Shadows have the ability to manipulate space-time, so the same might be true for those they dwell in, us living beings.” - P3 Club Book

“From the first, people have had a tremendous power in their souls over the flow of reality. [...] Yes… The power that created your world is the same as your inner strength… In this collective unconsciousness, it’s possible.” - Philemon, Innocent Sin.

Even the plumes of dusk, and thus the body of Nyx, have the same properties to alter reality, and emit readings similar to “living beings” despite being deadly to life on earth.

While it’s pretty clear how encompassing Nyx's lore and nature is, it’s important to keep in mind that most of this, at some level, was implied or said by the games. Side material like the Club Book just clarifies what was shown in the Journey, the Answer and even Arena. So now, it’s time to really analyze the beast this eldritch abomination is.

The Golden Egg

Now, it’s just common sense to begin with the mythological foundation of the games: greek mythology, and in particular Orphism, a branch which acted as a mystery (ie.secret) cult mythological founded by Orpheus. It preached, in basic terms, about the findings of the poet after he returned to the land of the living with wisdom about the nature of the world, its cycle of death and rebirth, and how to break from it.

It’s unknown if there’s a cycle of reincarnation in Persona, but we know there may be a similar thing based on Enlil’s quote of how “humans have learned nothing from the cycle of destruction and rebirth” during her second phase. There’s something similar in PQ, where Zen described the “providence of the world” (ie. the collective unconscious), and in the Club Book, about how the unconscious created an archetypal tale between demons and gods to protect the human soul from Nyx’s influence. However, that’s not that relevant, with our focus being more on the creation myth of the cult:

“Similarly, in connection with the raven as the name for this situation, we must consider the creative night mentioned in an Orphic hymn, which calls it a bird with black wings that was fertilized by the wind (pneuma). The product of this union was the silver egg, which in the Orphic view contained heaven above and earth below, and was therefore a cosmos in itself, i.e., the Microcosm.” - Mysterium Coniunctionis.

Within the context of cosmogonical eggs, the hindu hiranyagarbha can also be rescued, described by Jung as “the collective aggregate of all souls”. The relation between these two eggs and Nyx as the “mother of all” is quite obvious, but more important is the fact that its core is a giant, golden egg… cracked – the universe has already been born. But as I wrote in my previous post and as implied by the hiranyagarbha, the universe born out of Nyx is equal to the collective unconscious and thus humanity, harking back to other traditions in which the archetypal man is born out of an egg.

Since we now know what Nyx gave birth to the collective soul of life after “she cracked” or crashed against earth, we must ask what was it like before it crashed:

“The phenomenology of the "child's" birth always points back to an original psychological state of non-recognition, i.e., of darkness or twilight, of non-differentiation between subject and object, of unconscious identity of man and the universe. This phase of non-differentiation produces the golden egg, which is both man and universe and yet neither, but an irrational third.” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

Quite self-explanatory, don’t you think so? It even explains why Nyx is an “alien Star Eater”, for its true nature is what lies in the state before the separation of “heaven and earth”, before the divide between unconsciousness and consciousness. This liminal state is even reflected in its body which exists as both information/thought and matter at the same time, in-between the physical moon and the deepest abyss of the Sea of Souls as per Elizabeth’s route in Arena (“最も深淵なる場所だ”), or how even the Club Book describes its main body as “neither organic nor inorganic” ("有機物とも無機物とも判断しかねる外見である") – completely undifferentiated.

Naturally, this brings out to the mind the jewish associations established by the Club Book and the P3xP4 Analyze, about how Tartarus represents both the seven earths Adam wandered after being expelled out of Eden and the Sephirot that comprise the kabbalistic tree of life respectively, the two symbols for the development of consciousness out of the primitive, undifferentiated unconsciousness, which even Soejima noted. The Star Eater, as the one above Tartarus, becomes equal to Paradise and the unconscious godhead, the Ein Sof, from which the tree, synonymous with the archetypal man and universe, grows out, thus being one with the deepest layer of the Sea, as previously commented.

If you remember the confrontation with its Avatar, how “he” uses the narrative of the tree of knowledge to explain the arcanas, it adds another layer to its meaning: the fruit of knowledge is a very obvious metaphor for the birth of consciousness, but also one for the Shadows as well, with both ultimately causing the birth of death (or the awareness about it). This means Nyx, as the sum of all Shadows, is the tree of knowledge and death, which makes it equal to the tree of life and archetypal man, with even Tartarus being compared to the “corpse of god being (hanged) upside-down” in the Analyze book.

“七つの地” は神をシンボライズした “セフィロトの樹” と上下逆向きで対応しており、テベルは根本の基礎部分にあたる “イェンド” に相当する。” “The “seven earths” correspond to the Tree of the Sefirot, which symbolized God upside-down, with Thebel corresponding to “Yesod”, being the root of the foundations.”

And according to the same source, Tartarus is made out of Shadows and the psychic stratum of humanity:

“これは、タルタロスが基本的にはシャドウと同じ精神体によって構成されているからで、言ってみればその場所の記憶のようなものが構造に反映された結果そうなったもの。同様にタルタロス自体の内部構造も精神体からできたもので、タルタロス構造に取り込まれた精神体の記憶のようなものが反映されている” “This is thanks to Tartarus being fundamentally composed by the same psychic nature of Shadows, as if the memories of the research facility were reflected into the structure so to speak. Similarly, the internal structure of Tartarus itself is made up of such psychic substance, and as such it’s as if the memories of that substance were reflected and taken in by Tartarus’ architecture.”

So more reason to think Nyx, in essence, was the preconscious state of humanity and life before it crashed. It’s the unknown, unconscious godhead in which there is no difference between object and subject, acting as its own “universal individual” in a dormant, sleeping state. It’s pure coincidentia oppositorum.

Joining Opposites

“Nyx” means “night, and the night (along with darkness, dusk and many others) is one of the de facto symbols of the unconscious, along with the underworld (Tartarus). The moon being another symbol of the same thing just further confirms the Star Eater is the unconscious or it’s in an unconscious state. However, pure unconsciousness it’s not what only Nyx has to offer, for someone deeply related to it also exists: its avatar, Death, also known as Pharos.

Pharos’ name is a quite interesting, because in japanese is written as “ファルロス”, mixing both the katakana for “ファルス”, or “phallus”, and “ファロス”, or “pharos (of Alexandria)”. There’s no need to comment the masculine nature of the first word, but it has to be done in regards to the second one and its double nature, since the pharos of Alexandria acts as an obvious masculine symbol thanks to its phallic form, and as a symbol of consciousness due to the light it emits. That’s to say, Pharos is the conscious and masculine counterpart to Nyx’s actual state; Ryoji, with his casanova attitude and yellow scarf, reinforces the concept.

Now, all of that means that, just as expected, the original state of Nyx was androgynus in nature – both female and male at the same time. Some remains of this can also be seen in its core, golden and solar in nature despite being within the moon, and obviously harks back to another quote of Jung:

“The moon with her antithetical nature is, in a sense, a prototype of individuation, a prefiguration of the self: she is the “mother and spouse of the sun, who carries in the wind and the air the spagyric embryo conceived by the sun in her womb and belly.” This image corresponds to the psychologem of the pregnant anima, whose child is the self, or is marked by the attributes of the hero.” - Mysterium Coniunctionis.

Such an image is alchemical in nature, describing the nature of “Queen Luna” (a symbol for both the feminine essence of nature and Nyx) as the mother and partner of “King Sol” (the masculine essence, and in this case Death), who ultimately join in matrimony to achieve the “philosophical stone” – oneness with the world. I doubt I have to explain how the Fall acts as the “shadow” of such a process, ending with the death of all living beings. Though it’s also interesting how is related to the Avatar as such, whom only isn’t only found at the top of Tartarus or “tree of death”, meaning it acquired the same dignity as all other mythological primal humans, but it’s also androgynous in appearance – both feminine and masculine natures are necessary for wholeness, be it conscious or unconscious.

By that matter, the protagonist acts as both “Queen Luna” (gray eyes, pretty boy, “death was inside him”, and Messiah being completely white) and “King Sol”, for he, as “Orpheus”, enters into Nyx’s “eye” in an scene eerily reminiscent of what Jung wrote:

“The “eye” evidently stands for the female genitals, as is clear from the myth of Indra, who, as a punishment for his wantonness, was smitten with yonis all over his body, but was so far pardoned by the gods that the shameful yonis were changed into eyes. The little image reflected in the eye, the “pupilla,” is a “child.” The great god becomes a child again: he enters into the mother’s womb for self-renewal.” - Symbols of Transformation.

Yep… But at any rate, returning to the Avatar, his speech about the arcanas returns once again, since it includes all the arcanas from the Fool to Death, passing through the twelve intermediary ones, with each one representing one of the “hours” within a clock. This implies the Fool and Death stand outside of the cycle of time somehow, and since the Fool it’s the “beginning of life” as per Edogawa’s lecture on japanese, it’s not surprising to connect the card with an infant… like Pharos – Death itself.

Within the Avatar and Nyx the entire cycle of life is described, where both the beginning and end life become one to form a ring, a circle that can be described better as the Universe or World itself, as the Analyze book says:

“最後に発現する “世界” あるいは “宇宙” のタロットには、卵のような形のウロボロスの輪に囲まれた���性の姿が描かれている [...] 二ュクスの中心核は、そのウロボロスの形にも似ている透明な輝く卵の姿をしていた” “In regards to the final manifestation of the “World” or “Universe” tarot card, a feminine figure encircled in an egg-shaped ouroboros ring is depicted. [...] The shining, translucent egg acting as Nyx’s core resembles the shape of the ouroboros as well.”

More telling, the core, despite being the cosmic egg and having the light of creation (or “libido”, the name put by Jung to describe “psychic energy”), only uses “Death” to attack.

The Forgotten Godhead

What you are seeing is one of the first mandalas Jung created during his schizophrenia visions in 1916 or so. It’s called “systema munditotius” or “system of all worlds”, for it represents the psychic activity of all human beings at some level. It’s full of details and the like, but the more important things for now is the vertical axis, beginning with the golden egg with a human at the top, and ending with the lion-headed serpent at the bottom.

The first figure, the egg, represent the future, collective “imago dei” of humanity, the next symbol for the Self that has yet to be born and that Jung called “Phanes”, the primordial being born out of the cosmic egg within orphic myths, embodiment of existence itself and husband, father and/or son of Nyx. The second figure, the serpent or “Abraxas”, represents the past and present “imago dei”, a symbol reminiscent of the Demiurge and a bastardization of the christian god, having both a monster and a caterpillar, the promises of death and life, by its sides, and the tree of life rooted on its head (or mind)

If you begin to think, it becomes obvious what’s the relationship between the Star Eater and those two figures: It’s both. Not only the Eater is both death and a “caterpillar”, since it’s the source of all souls which are represented by butterflies in the series (see the Papillion heart and Psyche), but it’s also the cosmic egg and thus Phanes (see Ryoji). It’s the unconscious self of all humanity, forgotten and fragmented, hanged upside-down, and to which everyone has to obey

“What the god-sun speaketh is life. What the devil speaketh is death. But Abraxas speaketh that hallowed and accursed word which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas begetteth truth and lying, good and evil, light and darkness, in the same word and in the same act. Wherefore is Abraxas terrible. [...] To look upon it, is blindness. To know it, is sickness. To worship it, is death. To fear it, is wisdom. To resist it not, is redemption.” - Seven Sermons to the Dead

For Abraxas, in its primitive and unconscious brutality, is life and its origin, the endless cycle of death and rebirth, just as the Star Eater holds the Fool and the Death as one and the same. They are the flow of time, the drive that created everything from the unconscious as the savage demiurge. They are the endless conflict of life.

But in its role as Phanes, as the yet-to-be born Self, the Star Eater is the promise and realization of all beings – their meaning. However, its core, its egg, is cracked, damaged and divided, and therefore the Self of all humanity is unable to be born yet. For that, the egg must be joined once again and understood, just like Philemon said in IS and Tatsuya’s Scenario, for the egg – the Star Eater – is life.

Such transformation, at an individual level, is masterfully shown with Death’s own journey, going from a shadowy, primitive and savage monster to a kid curious about the world, and then to a teenager which loves everything life can offer from the beginning, all thanks to the journey of the protagonist and all the memories he gained. Yet, such search for meaning wasn’t enough to stop the hopelessness and self-destructivity of the collective, of humanity’s and the godhead’s yearn to return to what they were once… but the protagonist didn’t give up on and, against all possibilities, created a miracle: he was able to give meaning to life and thus to death, instauring hope in the furthest depths of everyone’s hearts.

That’s the true meaning of death within the game. It’s not about merely physical death, but also psychological death, transformation and, ultimately, hope. Death and time are the drives for the endless change within the human soul, equally givers and takers of happiness and tragedy. And with life and light, they make up the totality of the universe we know, for they are one and the same, with the rejection of one meaning the rejection of the other.

Death it’s not only a unknown hunter, but also a part of oneself, and that it’s hopefully treated as a friend even in the worst times. After all, accepting death and life as parts of the whole, to accept that everything will come and go, your sadness and happiness, it’s the first step to break off from the endless cycle of suffering and conflict, of “evil demons and benevolent gods” that are naught but a part of the human soul.

Don’t forget life brims with joy, and that you should bring that same joy to death. Live a good death!

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

The intricacies of elven naming conventions, and contemplating the possible meanings of Halsin's name:

This post was directly inspired by a Halstarion fanfiction on AO3, but I lost the link to the fic and can't remember its name. 😭 If anyone recognizes the example name I used here (which was Halsin's childhood name in the fic) and can send me the name of the fic so I can link it in this post, I would greatly appreciate it. It's a really good fic!)

When an elf turns 100 they take an "adult name", which is a name that they chose for themselves instead of the name chosen for them by their parents.

(AN: Elves mature at approximately the same rate that humans do until they're around 25. An elf not being considered an adult in elven society until their 100th birthday is essentially a ceremonial rite of passage— showing that the elf has lived long enough, and gained enough life experience, to be taken seriously by older elves. [i.e.: An 18 year old and 38 year old are both legal adults, but I'd take the 38 year old's advise more seriously than the 18 year old's.])

Elven naming traditions are complex. How a name is pronounced changes the meaning of the name— even if two names are spelled same way they could be pronounced differently, and thus have different meanings. Prefixes and suffixes seem to be interchangeable. Not only that, (AFAIK) some letters can be interchanged, combined, or dropped to make the name flow better and/ or sound prettier.

"According to The Complete Book of Elves, the elven language is so full of subtlety and nuance that only native speakers fully understand it. Two names may sound the same to a human, but an elf would know the difference."

As an example of how intricate elven names are; the name "Arith" could mean "gold child" or "child of gold" if read as "ar-ith". But if the name is read as "ari-th" it could mean "silver healer"— if the "a" is removed from the suffix "-tha". Or it could mean "silver wing" if the "i" is removed from the suffix "-thi".

The name "Arith" could also mean "silver child" if read as "ari-ith", if the meanings of "ari" and "ith" are combined. Complicating matters, combining the "i"'s can elongate the vowel, changing the pronunciation to "aree-th". From what I can tell combining the "i"'s could lead to the vowel either being elongated or not, depending on the preference of the person who is doing the naming.

Hell, combining the "i"'s could lead to the name meaning "Gold-silver child" or "Child of gold and silver" or "Silver-gold child" or "Child of silver and gold" or other variations. The meaning of the name could also be used to represent an idea— so instead of a direct/ literal translation of "Arith" we'd get a name that means "Valued child" or "Treasured child" or "Little treasure" etc.

{11} Ar : gold, golden {12} Arì : silver {42} -ith (-lath; -lith; -lyth) : child, young {81} -thal /-tha (-ethal / -etha) : heal, healer, healing {84} -thi (-ethil; -thil) : wing

To say that elven names are complicated is a bit of an understatement.

Continuing to use angle fire's elven names charts to decipher what Halsin's name could mean is frustrating— as it seems as though his name isn't elven in origin. I don't even want to think about Astarion's name. [alt]

{39} Ha : free, freedom

Which makes sense, as he values freedom/ being free. But "Ha" is the only direct translation available off the elf name charts— which compelled me to add/ drop letters in prefixes/ suffixes in order to determine the meaning of Halsin's name.

If we add an "l" to "Ha" and remove the "a" in "san" and replace it with an "i" then the name "Halsin" means "Free drink". However using the suffix "-hal" as a prefix gives us a name with the meaning:

{39} Ha : free, freedom {31} -hal (-ahal; -ihal) : pale, weak {73} -san : drink, wine

"Pale drink", "pale wine", "weak drink", "weak wine", etc. Which doesn't really fit the Halsin we know. Though an argument could be made that Halsin chose this name/ its meaning because he was too weak to stop the Shadow Curse, and as an acknowledgement of how he turned to drinking to cope. But he would've been 250 years old when he chose this name. Ostensibly, he would've already changed his name upon reaching age 100— though he could('ve) change(d) his name multiple times.

Or if we drop the "a" in "La" and add an "n" to "Si", the meaning changes to:

{39} Ha : free, freedom {52} La : night {80} Si : cat, feline

"Free(d) night cat." Which fits Halsin in the same way that a foot does in a shoe that's a size to small— it fits, but not really.

If we combine the "Ha" and "-hal" we'd get a name that means "free weak drink". Which would be a nod to his escape from slavery in the Underdark, and how he drank to cope with his failures in the Shadow Cursed Lands. (And how he might've also drank to cope with what happened to him during his enslavement.)

There's many other combinations/ meanings, but none of them really feel like something Halsin would choose as a name for himself.

However! Looking at the (surface) drow names lead me to some interesting theories.

{33} Hal/Sol : Deft, nimble, spider {79} Sin/Szin : Festival, joy, pleasure

So his name would be: "Nimble pleasure" or something along those lines. But why would he use a drow name?

May I present to you the angsty idea that "Halsin" was his slave name and that for whatever reason he chose to keep it once he was freed.

He could've also used a combination of drow and elven name meanings, as by adding an "l" to the end of "Ha", "Halsin" means:

{39} Ha : free, freedom {79} Sin/Szin : Festival, joy, pleasure

"Free joy" or "Joy in freedom"— which could possibly be a nod to his joy at being freed, with the drow portion acting as a reminder of his youthful folly. We could also get the meaning "Free pleasure" which, uh, could be taken as 'he is free to pursue his pleasure', or 'it is a pleasure to be free' or 'it is pleasurable to be free', etc.

Or for more angst, "Free pleasure" which come from his drow captors combining the elf prefix "Ha" with the drow prefix "Sin" as both a mockery of his lost freedom and a reminder that he was to pleasure the matron of the house, or anyone who she gave permission to*, at any time (noncon free use).

(*AN: Drow society is staunchly matriarchal. The least powerful woman ranks above the most powerful man. However, a non-noble woman couldn't give orders to a patron; if she did then his powerful matron would most likely react with violence for using her "possession" without her permission— so in this way powerful drow men are protected, to an extent. However drow men, whatever their status, are above surface slaves, especially elves. (I think they hold dominion over female slaves, but I am not sure. Drow men are definitely higher up on the food chain than a male surface elf slave.) Which is why the patron got to 'enjoy' Halsin (and because the matron allowed him to). Honestly, Halsin is damn lucky to have survived as a slave instead of being sacrificed to Lolth or outright killed— most drow hate surface elves.)

I wonder if Halsin went to the Underdark before he turned 100. He was given into the care of a druid grove when the last of his family died, which implies he was very young at the time. <100 year old elves are full of wanderlust, and without an elven community/ family to help guide him Halsin would've taken risks that older elves could have warned him against.

And it would make sense for Halsin to use the name that means "free joy" if he was in the Underdark before he turned 100. It would also make sense for him to change his name to mean "weak drink" or "free(d) weak drink". The change would've been subtle enough that most wouldn't notice. And it would be in character for Halsin to change his name to be a constant reminder to himself of his failures and mistakes.

Of course he could've chosen the name "Halsin" because it has no meaning, and thus no expectations attached to it.

**(Please note that I am by no means a DND lore expert, this analysis is amateur at best. Angelfire seems to be a 3rd party website, so their translations are by no means official or correct, and idk how old the webpage is.)

[bestworstcase]

“no, that is what you do. i want to know why you do it: the honest reason as to why you became huntresses.”

“what exactly does a huntress do?” “fight… monsters, i guess? i’m sorry, i don’t understand why this matters.” “i don’t understand how you don’t understand! i am an herbalist. i make medicines and remedies to help others on their journeys. that is what i am. so, do you know what a huntress is, or do you guess?” “huntresses are heroes. we protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

“we all have our titles, our roles to play. but in order to help you become whatever it is you need to become, you should really have a better understanding of what you are now.”

“i’m a thrill-seeker. i want to travel around the world and get wrapped up in as many crazy adventures as i can, and if i help people along the way, then that’s even better.” -> “i’ve just kind of always, gone with the flow you know? and that’s fine, i mean, that’s who i am. but how long can i really do that for? i wanna be a huntress... not really because i want to be a hero, but because i want the adventure. i want a life where i won’t know what tomorrow will bring, and that’ll be a good thing. being a huntress just happens to line up with that.” -> “my losses, my failures? those more than anything are what have shaped me into who i am, showed me how i need to grow. if there’s something i’m missing, it’s not because i lost it. it’s because i haven’t found it yet, and the only way to do that is to keep going. i am a huntress.”

“i’m a schnee. i have a legacy of honor to uphold. once i realized i was capable of fighting, there was no longer a question of what i would do with my life. it was my duty.” -> “when i said i wanted to honor my family’s name, i meant it. but it’s not what you think; i’m not stupid. i’m fully aware of what my father has done with the schnee dust company. […] which is why i feel the need to make things right. if i had taken a job in atlas, it wouldn’t have changed anything. my father was not the start of our name, and i refuse to let him be the end of it.” -> “i am the granddaughter of a hero and the child of a villain. i am a citizen of a fallen kingdom and an heir to nothing. i will not be defined by my name because i will be the one to define it. i am weiss schnee, and i am a huntress.”

“there’s too much wrong in this world to just stand by and do nothing. inequality, corruption… someone has to stop it.” -> “all my life, i’ve fought for what i thought was right. i had a partner named adam. more of a mentor, actually. he always assured me that what we were doing would make the world a better place. but of course, his idea of a perfect future turned out to be not perfect for everyone. i joined the academy because i knew that huntsmen and huntresses were regarded as the most noble warriors in the world, always fighting for good. but i never really thought past that.” -> “a simple life wouldn’t be my life. my family, my friends, my culture, i belong to them just as much as they belong to me. to give that all away wouldn’t be simplicity—it would be betrayal. i am a huntress.”

“i see lives that could have been saved. as a huntsman, it is my job to protect the people, and although i am capable of doing it with traditional weaponry, i believe i can make am uch larger impact if i do it with my mind. as a teacher, i'm able to take knowledge, the most poewerful weapon of them all, and place it in the hands of every student that passes through my classroom. i look at this wasteland, and i see lives that could have been saved, but i also see an opportunity: an opportunity to study these ruins and learn from this tragedy, and therefore become stronger. i am a huntsman, ruby, because there is nothing else in this world i would rather be.”

YELLS INCOHERENTLY

despite what blake told the herbalist, "huntress" does not mean "hero" to her or to yang or to weiss. to yang, a huntress is someone who embraces loss as a reason to change and accepts failure as an opportunity for growth. to weiss, being a huntress means refusing to be limited or defined by the preconceived notions of who she is or what she should be, because her own actions are what matter. and to blake, being a huntress means being part of her community, inseparable from her community, and rejecting simplicity because she understands that the world is not simple. all three of them have made "huntress" the foundation of their own identities, but they have done so by understanding "huntress" to mean whatever it is they find in the core of their selves, without respect for what "huntress" means to the rest of the world. all of them chose this label before they quite understood what it meant, and upon finding its denotative meaning inadequate to define them they simply redefined the label.

but ruby? to ruby, a huntress is a hero who protects those who cannot protect themselves, like a character in a fairytale—except real life isn't a fairytale, so the duty of a huntress is to make it one.

she has never been challenged to define what "huntress" means for her. she has never been asked to truly examine or articulate why she wants to be a huntress, and thus instead of taking the label and tailoring it to fit herself the way yang, blake, and weiss did, ruby tailored herself to fit the label and now, forced to confront how poorly it fits, she can see only a personal failure and cannot conceive of any way out except to stop being herself altogether.

search and destroy...2!

also wby aren't done yet. "i am a huntress" is explicitly not a complete statement; they answered the herbalist's question but they didn't answer oobleck's

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Yay! Tav/Evie for any or all of these :) thanks in advance :) look forward to it :)

General 1,2,7,8

Story 7,8

Romance 1,2,4,11,12

General

Where can your Tav be recruited?  Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region?  Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

I want to say Evie can be recruited around the crash region. I’m thinking maybe she’d backed into a corner playing a song to keep something at bay. Player Character can then make a stealth check to try not to startle the creature out of the trance as they help maneuver Evie away from it. Or make an attack roll with advantage to kill it. Evie will approve either way because it gets her out of a spot, although she’s more cautious in her dialogue if you kill it.

2. Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

Lae’zel: I hardly see what use a song can do in battle. We’d be better served using her as a meat shield.

Shadowheart: Pretty song. Tell me, do you always put your audience to sleep?

Evie: Only on special occasions.

Astarion: Gods save us, a bard. I don’t care how pretty her throat is, if I have to endure one camp fire sing along, I’m cutting it.

Gale: A most advantageous ally. Bards aren’t known for their power but Tav has no doubt has seen more of Faerun than any of us and heard even more. Perhaps she’s come across something about these tadpoles the academics have over looked.

7. Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game?  Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

I want to say yes she has a story line, but I'm admittedly fuzzy on the details. I'd want her story line to focus on abandonment and the effects that has. Evie is somebody who has been continually used and thrown away by people her whole life; her father, her mentor, even just the fact she's a performer and loses value the second she's off the stage. If she’s not useful then it’s only a matter of time before she’s left behind. The player character has the potential to either exploit that or help her realize her own worth.

I do think it would be a slower build. I’d almost want to say through most the first act Evie is keeping up the persona of a relaxed, go with the flow bard. The big thing though, is she is going by Tav in this section. The first hint something is off is when you come across a caravan of performers and one of them recognizes Tav/Evie and calls her “tavern mouse” or “mouse”. You can roll an insight check and on a success see that she’s uncomfortable around the caravan even as they greet you and the party with open arms.

You can decide to help the caravan in which case Tav/Evie goes off with the leader to speak privately. Then later you wake up to see Tav/Evie sneaking out of camp. She tells you not to worry, she’s just getting some air, but on an insight check you can see if she’s lying. If you succeed she then confesses she’s doing a favor for the leader in order to get more info on the tadpoles. She didn’t want to bother anyone with it if it turns out to be a dud. She’ll be back in no time.

You can then decide to go with her or not. If you go with her, stealth mission to steal something. If you decide not to go, Tav/Evie returns battered and bruised, but alive.

If you decide to go with her this is also the moment she tells you her real name is Evie. Tav is just a nickname she picked up when she was a kid.

Debating if the thing she helps the leader with has something to do with the cult of Shar or if it's an unrelated magical item that zaps her energy, but gives the PC and the party in general some kind of buff.

Eventually it all comes to a head with her confessing how little she thinks she does for everyone, that her problems are her own and nothing compared to everybody else. She questions why you keep her around.

If you haven’t been paying attention to her dialogue or unquestioning of where she’s been getting her information then this could be the moment she leaves. Or if you promise she is useful then she’ll stay and more determined to remain useful. If you assure her that yes, she’s helped, but you like having her there because you like her, she’s more confident in the last act.

Final test is when her father comes back into the picture asking for help, having heard through the grape vine of those you helped that she’s back in Baldur’s Gate. Again, fuzzy on the details, but I think it leads to a final confrontation where Evie has the option to essentially give up her person hood in order to help the Player Character and the rest of the party. She'd become powerful, but essentially turn into a weapon that anybody can choose the wield. Depending on how the Player Character interacted with Evie you can convince her not to go through with it or encourage her to follow through.

8. What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp?  How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?

PC: I need you to stay in camp.

*Evie Disapproves*

Evie: Oh well, of course. I’m sure I can find something to do. Ballads don’t write themselves.

PC: I’d like you to come with us.

*Evie approves*

Evie: What? Really? Of course! Happy to help.

Story

7. What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party?

I'm thinking either the player character catches Evie in between dancing among the other tieflings or in between sets. No rest for the wicked.

8. Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with? 

Just a quick thing, I haven't played the game so I'm not sure when these romance scenes are triggered. So if something doesn't seem right, that's why.

Evie *about Astarion*: Wait, those lines actually worked? Can't say I blame you, anything that falls from the lips of a pretty mouth will always have it's appeal. Still..."only to die again with you"? Bit on the nose, don't you think?

Evie *about Gale*: Really? Huh. I'd say beware the quiet ones, but that hardly seems fitting for this. Beware the academics?

Evie *about Wyll*: Good to know at least one person in this place is keeping romance alive.

Evie *about Lae'zel*: I'll admit I was a bit worried about your ability to walk, but glad to see you up and about.

Evie *about Shadowheart*: Shadowheart seems to be showing more heart than shadow these days. I take it that's thanks to you?

Evie *about Karlach*: I'm not saying I mind. Really, I'm happy for both of you. Karlach deserves as much good sex as she can get her hands on. I'm just saying keep it down next time.

Romance

Is your Tav a romanceable character?  Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

Absolutely a romancable character, but Evie is asexual so a bit more like Gale in terms of a slower build to actually being together.

Technically you can keep Evie around even if you do an evil run, but your relationship is going to end up being more toxic as she doesn't feel safe enough to argue with you and will just go along with what you say.

2. Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough?

Evie needs to be flirted with in order to be romanced. She's not going to approach you. However, it doesn't require much attention from the Player Character to get a high enough approval rating to trigger her romance scenes.

4. Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party?

Not sure if it would be specifically at the tiefling party, but I think the player character has the option to ask Evie to meet them somewhere quiet just the two of them. (Classic, you want to go somewhere quiet move)

Depending on your approval rating, Evie will agree to meet you.

This is where it can get tricky. The Player Character has the option to just talk to Evie, getting more of her backstory eventually leading to Evie playing some of a song she's been working on. An illusion of magic is pulled from the music until it forms the image of the PC and Evie dancing together. From there the PC has the option to kiss Evie, reject her, or simply say it's beautiful and they'd like to make that image a reality.

If the PC decides to kiss Evie you can roll an insight check to keep going. On a success you can tell that she's hesitant so you can pull away to ask what's wrong. Evie can then voice that it's nice, but she'd like to slow down. The PC can respect these wishes and continue the dialogue to them dancing. Or the PC can convince her to keep going.

On a failure Evie pulls away herself to voice her discomfort. Again, the PC is given the option to respect her wishes or keep going.

Basically there are multiple times the player character can either respect Evie's autonomy or refuse to. She doesn't push back or say no after that first protest, but rather than showing the sex, it fades to black.

11. What are Tav’s plans for the future?  Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in?

Evie would just be happy to stay with the Player Character, however she would suggest that after they have their fill of adventuring, maybe they can find some place to stay for a while. She likes the idea of having a home with four walls, some place safe to call her own with somebody who wants the same thing. Of course, if they figure out that's not for them, they can always go some place else. The world is a big place.

I think there would then be the option for the Player Character to be like, "is that a proposal" to which Evie responds with "call it a proposal to a proposal".

12. Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!

I keep thinking the character music for Evie would be really important in the story. If you go the route where she becomes ensentually an automaton, her music completely disappears from the background. All humming, plucking, or just songs she's worked on disappear from the game.

Companion!Tav Asks

[the-chronicle-of-holy-days]

Day 22

Chapter III

Abrahadabra; the reward of Ra Hoor Khut.

There is division hither homeward; there is a word not known. Spelling is defunct; all is not aught. Beware! Hold! Raise the spell of Ra-Hoor-Khuit!

Now let it be first understood that I am a god of War and of Vengeance. I shall deal hardly with them.

Choose ye an island!

Fortify it!

Dung it about with enginery of war!

I will give you a war-engine.

With it ye shall smite the peoples; and none shall stand before you.

Lurk! Withdraw! Upon them! this is the Law of the Battle of Conquest: thus shall my worship be about my secret house.

Get the stele of revealing itself; set it in thy secret temple — and that temple is already aright disposed — & it shall be your Kiblah for ever. It shall not fade, but miraculous colour shall come back to it day after day. Close it in locked glass for a proof to the world.

This shall be your only proof. I forbid argument. Conquer! That is enough. I will make easy to you the abstruction from the ill-ordered house in the Victorious City. Thou shalt thyself convey it with worship, o prophet, though thou likest it not. Thou shalt have danger & trouble. Ra-Hoor-Khu is with thee. Worship me with fire & blood; worship me with swords & with spears. Let the woman be girt with a sword before me: let blood flow to my name. Trample down the Heathen; be upon them, o warrior, I will give you of their flesh to eat!

Sacrifice cattle, little and big: after a child.

But not now.

Ye shall see that hour, o blessed Beast, and thou the Scarlet Concubine of his desire!

Ye shall be sad thereof.

Deem not too eagerly to catch the promises; fear not to undergo the curses. Ye, even ye, know not this meaning all.

Fear not at all; fear neither men nor Fates, nor gods, nor anything. Money fear not, nor laughter of the folk folly, nor any other power in heaven or upon the earth or under the earth. Nu is your refuge as Hadit your light; and I am the strength, force, vigour, of your arms.

Mercy let be off; damn them who pity! Kill and torture; spare not; be upon them!

That stele they shall call the Abomination of Desolation; count well its name, & it shall be to you as 718.

Why? Because of the fall of Because, that he is not there again.

Set up my image in the East: thou shalt buy thee an image which I will show thee, especial, not unlike the one thou knowest. And it shall be suddenly easy for thee to do this.

The other images group around me to support me: let all be worshipped, for they shall cluster to exalt me. I am the visible object of worship; the others are secret; for the Beast & his Bride are they: and for the winners of the Ordeal x. What is this? Thou shalt know.

For perfume mix meal & honey & thick leavings of red wine: then oil of Abramelin and olive oil, and afterward soften & smooth down with rich fresh blood.

The best blood is of the moon, monthly: then the fresh blood of a child, or dropping from the host of heaven: then of enemies; then of the priest or of the worshippers: last of some beast, no matter what.

This burn: of this make cakes & eat unto me. This hath also another use; let it be laid before me, and kept thick with perfumes of your orison: it shall become full of beetles as it were and creeping things sacred unto me.

These slay, naming your enemies; & they shall fall before you.

Also these shall breed lust & power of lust in you at the eating thereof.

Also ye shall be strong in war.

Moreover, be they long kept, it is better; for they swell with my force. All before me.

My altar is of open brass work: burn thereon in silver or gold!

There cometh a rich man from the West who shall pour his gold upon thee.

From gold forge steel!

Be ready to fly or to smite!

But your holy place shall be untouched throughout the centuries: though with fire and sword it be burnt down & shattered, yet an invisible house there standeth, and shall stand until the fall of the Great Equinox; when Hrumachis shall arise and the double-wanded one assume my throne and place. Another prophet shall arise, and bring fresh fever from the skies; another woman shall awakethe lust & worship of the Snake; another soul of God and beast shall mingle in the globed priest; another sacrifice shall stain the tomb; another king shall reign; and blessing no longer be poured To the Hawk-headed mystical Lord!

The half of the word of Heru-ra-ha, called Hoor-pa-kraat and Ra-Hoor-Khut.

Then said the prophet unto the God:

I adore thee in the song —

I am the Lord of Thebes, and I

The inspired forth-speaker of Mentu;

For me unveils the veiled sky,

The self-slain Ankh-af-na-khonsu

Whose words are truth. I invoke, I greet

Thy presence, O Ra-Hoor-Khuit! Unity uttermost showed!

I adore the might of Thy breath,

Supreme and terrible God,

Who makest the gods and death

To tremble before Thee:—

I, I adore thee! Appear on the throne of Ra!

Open the ways of the Khu!

Lighten the ways of the Ka!

The ways of the Khabs run through

To stir me or still me!

Aum! let it fill me!

So that thy light is in me; & its red flame is as a sword in my hand to push thy order. There is a secret door that I shall make to establish thy way in all the quarters, (these are the adorations, as thou hast written), as it is said:

The light is mine; its rays consume

Me: I have made a secret door

Into the House of Ra and Tum,

Of Khephra and of Ahathoor.

I am thy Theban, O Mentu,

The prophet Ankh-af-na-khonsu!

By Bes-na-Maut my breast I beat;

By wise Ta-Nech I weave my spell.

Show thy star-splendour, O Nuit!

Bid me within thine House to dwell,

O wingèd snake of light, Hadit!

Abide with me, Ra-Hoor-Khuit!

All this and a book to say how thou didst come hither and a reproduction of this ink and paper for ever — for in it is the word secret & not only in the English — and thy comment upon this the Book of the Law shall be printed beautifully in red ink and black upon beautiful paper made by hand; and to each man and woman that thou meetest, were it but to dine or to drink at them, it is the Law to give. Then they shall chance to abide in this bliss or no; it is no odds. Do this quickly!

But the work of the comment? That is easy; and Hadit burning in thy heart shall make swift and secure thy pen.

Establish at thy Kaaba a clerk-house: all must be done well and with business way.

The ordeals thou shalt oversee thyself, save only the blind ones. Refuse none, but thou shalt know & destroy the traitors. I am Ra-Hoor-Khuit; and I am powerful to protect my servant. Success is thy proof: argue not; convert not; talk not over much! Them that seek to entrap thee, to overthrow thee, them attack without pity or quarter; & destroy them utterly. Swift as a trodden serpent turn and strike! Be thou yet deadlier than he! Drag down their souls to awful torment: laugh at their fear: spit upon them!

Let the Scarlet Woman beware! If pity and compassion and tenderness visit her heart; if she leave my work to toy with old sweetnesses; then shall my vengeance be known. I will slay me her child: I will alienate her heart: I will cast her out from men: as a shrinking and despised harlot shall she crawl through dusk wet streets, and die cold and an-hungered.

But let her raise herself in pride! Let her follow me in my way! Let her work the work of wickedness! Let her kill her heart! Let her be loud and adulterous! Let her be covered with jewels, and rich garments, and let her be shameless before all men!

Then will I lift her to pinnacles of power: then will I breed from her a child mightier than all the kings of the earth. I will fill her with joy: with my force shall she see & strike at the worship of Nu: she shall achieve Hadit.

I am the warrior Lord of the Forties: the Eighties cower before me, & are abased. I will bring you to victory & joy: I will be at your arms in battle & ye shall delight to slay. Success is your proof; courage is your armour; go on, go on, in my strength; & ye shall turn not back for any!

This book shall be translated into all tongues: but always with the original in the writing of the Beast; for in the chance shape of the letters and their position to one another: in these are mysteries that no Beast shall divine. Let him not seek to try: but one cometh after him, whence I say not, who shall discover the Key of it all. Then this line drawn is a key: then this circle squared in its failure is a key also. And Abrahadabra. It shall be his child & that strangely. Let him not seek after this; for thereby alone can he fall from it.

Now this mystery of the letters is done, and I want to go on to the holier place.

I am in a secret fourfold word, the blasphemy against all gods of men.

Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!

With my Hawk's head I peck at the eyes of Jesus as he hangs upon the cross.

I flap my wings in the face of Mohammed & blind him.

With my claws I tear out the flesh of the Indian and the Buddhist, Mongol and Din.

Bahlasti! Ompehda! I spit on your crapulous creeds.

Let Mary inviolate be torn upon wheels: for her sake let all chaste women be utterly despised among you!

Also for beauty's sake and love's!

Despise also all cowards; professional soldiers who dare not fight, but play; all fools despise!

But the keen and the proud, the royal and the lofty; ye are brothers!

As brothers fight ye!

There is no law beyond Do what thou wilt.

There is an end of the word of the God enthroned in Ra's seat, lightening the girders of the soul.

To Me do ye reverence! to me come ye through tribulation of ordeal, which is bliss.

The fool readeth this Book of the Law, and its comment; & he understandeth it not.

Let him come through the first ordeal, & it will be to him as silver.

Through the second, gold.

Through the third, stones of precious water.

Through the fourth, ultimate sparks of the intimate fire.

Yet to all it shall seem beautiful. Its enemies who say not so, are mere liars.

There is success.

I am the Hawk-Headed Lord of Silence & of Strength; my nemyss shrouds the night-blue sky.

Hail! ye twin warriors about the pillars of the world! for your time is nigh at hand.

I am the Lord of the Double Wand of Power; the wand of the Force of Coph Nia—but my left hand is empty, for I have crushed an Universe; & nought remains.

Paste the sheets from right to left and from top to bottom: then behold!

There is a splendour in my name hidden and glorious, as the sun of midnight is ever the son.

The ending of the words is the Word Abrahadabra.

The Book of the Law is Written

and Concealed.

Aum. Ha

[writingsofanomnivore]

How you get the gir- - Atsumu Miya x Fem! Reader

Warnings ; none. a bit of angst to fluff.

Maybe a bit ooc atsumu since I'm rather new. Mediocre writing.

Well. Break ups are certainly a thing. Especially after being dumped. Dumped by someone who promised you many things. Dumped by someone whom you shared so many memories with.

Dates at parks after skipping practices. Ice skating on weekends. Trips to malls just because. Pictures in frames with kisses on cheeks.

Now all that is left are well hidden boxes in the garage full of what was and never will be.

Life continues and moves on just like the never stopping tick of the clock and it's time to get over it. 6 months and you need to move on and get going. Just like that yellow haired volleyball player who got on with his life after breaking that very heart which mended his. And for what? you'll never know.

I can still remember it. A normal Tuesday evening. Meeting at that café on your way home and his way back from practice. What you thought would be just catching up on how Suna recorded yet another video of him wishing you good bye. Or 'Samu's new recipe which he packed for lunch. But here you were, getting off your car and entering the café. Seeing that yellow blob of hair checking his phone every minute and looking out the clear window. Warily making your way to the table and pulling a chair you sat down.

"We need to break-up."

Ahh. Here goes every rational thought out the window. "Are you serious Atsumu? Is this some prank? April fools was last month."

"No y/n. I'm sorry I have to go"

Begging him to stay. To stay and at least give you an explanation. All was for vain. Not getting any, you let your tears be your only friend.

And now you've improved. At least that's what you tell yourself. 6 months are certainly enough to forget someone right? Even the one whom you would want to spend your forever with? Meeting friends and trying out new stuff. From meditating to trying to bake but there was always a little space. Everywhere you go, there's always one thing which screams his name. Now only praying to God that someday this will be over. What was golden is now stained in blues and greys.

This too was supposed to be a normal Wednesday. Back from home. Rain pouring at 6 pm and busy with some pending office work with a cup of coffee. So, when the bell rang. You thought it would be the groceries you ordered earlier today. Though it was not supposed to come till tomorrow you didn't think much and got up.

What you didn't expect was the yellow haired volleyball player, soaking in the rain. As much as you didn't want to look into those very eyes which looked into your's and those fake promises were made, involuntarily it met those dark brown honey coloured eyes with that emotion you buried deep somewhere you forgot.

"Have you lost your mind Miya?What the heck are you-"

A thrust of a bouquet of fresh red roses and a soggy wrapper stopped you. Taking it into you grasp, you held it tight.

"Look, I'm sorry Y/n. I really am. I don't know what took over me. These 6 months have been nothing but torture. I don't know what took over me. What made me do that. It was just so so stupid of me. I'm so sorry. I know I've done a terrible thing. I will never forget myself for this. I know this is just so abrupt. Just so out of the flow, just such a big hindrance to a normal day but- but that's what made us. It was those sudden plans I pulled you into. Your annoyed mood at missing the comfort of your only to be yelling on the roller coaster. Blushing red face after running away from a dog. A dog I irritated. I'm ready to wait. As long as it takes you. Days, weeks, months or even years as long as I end up with you. I want you for worse or better. No matter what the consequences. I'll put the very heart I broke. Only if you let me"

And here you- you were speechless. Bowing you head down and looking at the red roses he just brought. Looking up into his eyes, all sadness, all pain, all work just seemed to float away.

This poin of time. Never being one to hug someone. You lunged forward. Wet t-shirt sticking on to you. A very shaky arm pulling you closer. Nervous as if you will pull away anytime soon. But you didn't. You never will. Even if you won't get back together at this moment. You're ready to wait. To wait for the boundary you built, crashing down because now you have him again. The yellow haired lover of yours back with you. Back in your arms, never wanting to let go.

[sansa286]

The Complexities of Vaemond Velaryon's Claim and the Succession of Driftmark

I was re-watching HotD S1E8 - "Lord of the Tides" and was reminded of just how complex the issue with the succession for Driftmark is.

SPOILERS: House of the Dragon, Fire & Blood, A Song of Ice & Fire books and Game of Thrones.

Before we begin: hats off Vaemond's actor, Wil Johnson. He did incredible as Vaemond, I hung onto every word he said. I could feel just how pissed off he was. Round o' applause for such an excellent actor!

Disclaimer: I'm neither strictly Team Black or Team Green. There are characters I like/find interesting on both sides. I also want to make it clear, that although I point out how Vaemond is right about some stuff, I personally don't really care about the circumstances surrounding Luke's birth as both Laenor and Corlys claimed him.

Let's get into this...

We know that Corlys has been mortally wounded during battle in the stepstones, which has resulted in a fever. He may not survive, so Vaemond believes now is the perfect time to make a case for him to inherit Driftmark, and not his *official* nephew Lucerys. He knows he'll have the backing of the Greens, as they have been looking for a window into knocking Rhaenyra out of the line of succession in favor of Aegon. It's a very "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" type of alliance. No one actually cares about one another, it's about one-upping a common foe together.

The argument being made by Vaemond and others, is essentially that Luke shouldn't inherit Driftmark because:

He is a bastard.

He is still very young (14).

He hasn't been raised on Driftmark.

I am quickly going to address the last two points:

1.) Luke's age doesn't matter. Children take their inheritance at crazy young ages all the time in-universe. Aegon III took the throne at 10. They rely on advisors, or regents (like Lysa Arryn being Lady Regent of the Vale until Robin comes of age), but they're still entitled to their inheritance. Fully disinheriting someone based on age is rather ludicrous.

2.) As Lord Beesbury pointed out, a person's abilities doesn't alter their entitlement to their inheritance unless it's something very serious or the current ruler decides against them for [insert reason here.] If abilities meant anything in terms of Westerosi succession then they sure as hell wouldn't be trying to put Aegon of all people on the throne. Obviously Rhaenyra could have done better by sending Luke as a ward to Driftmark under Rhaenys, but again, that doesn't matter enough to disinherit someone.

Now due to the taboo of accusing Rhaenyra of being unfaithful to Laenor, he can't outright say the first point, but it is still very much being said, and he and makes it apparent when he uses terminology like "Velaryon blood", and talk of "bloodlines." Vaemond insinuating that he is a better fit for Driftmark over Luke due to his Velaryon blood, is essentially pointing out that Luke has none.

In Westeros the simplest order of succession goes Lord --->Firstborn son--->Firstborn grandson and so on, following a direct line of descendants. We'll come back to this in a moment though, because it's not as simple as many would think.

After Corlys, the next Lord of the Tides was supposed to be Laenor, but due to his "death" it flows to Luke. While Luke was born out of wedlock, he has not been disowned as such and carries the Velaryon name through Laenor, his official father.

But the thing is, Vaemond is technically right. By laws of succession, due to Luke being a bastard, he shouldn't be the heir to Driftmark. And he by all accounts, is speaking the truth here.

But guess what? That also wouldn't make Vaemond the heir to Driftmark either!

Vaemond only gets Driftmark if Corlys has no other living grandchildren. If Luke were publicly outed as a bastard and stripped of all his titles and inheritance, they would not automatically go to Vaemond, but Baela and Rhaena. The law of succession always follows the line of the direct descendants of the eldest living male heir. Vaemond is not a direct descendant of Corlys, but their father, who has passed. Corlys is the current Lord of the Tides. Had Laenor passed away before Laena with no children on his own, then Driftmark would have went to Laena. With Laenor gone, and Luke disinherited, the claim then goes from Corly's grandson to granddaughter. That is how primogeniture works in Westeros and also why Rhaenys was even considered for the Iron Throne in the first place, as she was the sole living heir of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne's firstborn son, Aemon.

Males are favored, but not absolute. Sons and grandsons come before daughters and granddaughters. But all come before an uncle or aunt. The only time an uncle or another male relative takes precedent, is if his lord-brother or father declares him heir (Jahaerys with Baelon), or he usurps it (there are a few examples of this happening in the ASOIAF books, and even one during this period with Lady Jeyne Arryn, who should make an appearance in S2.)

The argument could go that because they're women they can pass on the Verlaryon blood, but not the Velaryon name. Somewhat true, however easily corrected, as there have been several examples of lords taking on their mother's surname when they're the heirs to a land or region (See: Maege Mormont.) Likewise, Baela or Rhaena could take their mother's surname, and their children can opt into taking the Velaryon name as well, and that would actually be expected.

So, Vaemond is right, but he is mostly wrong. And he is trying to rob his very own nieces, those of legit Velaryon blood, from their birthright.

This is why Vaemond is far from just someone concerned with his own house being snuffed out. He is playing the game of thrones, like everyone else. He just lost early-on.

When Rhaenys announces that she has agreed to wed Baela and Rhaena to Jace and Luke, that should've been enough to satisfy his supposed concerns: that house Velaryon would die out in both blood and name. Don't get me wrong, I do think Vaemond is legitimately concerned, that is apparent in his passion; but he also has his own agenda. The marriage of Luke and Rhaena would mean that the next heir to Driftmark would have the Velaryon name passed down through Luke, and Velaryon blood passed down through Rhaena. House Velaryon would be far from ending.

I know people (rightfully) harp on Rhaenyra for backing her son's claim to Driftmark over Baela and Rhaena. That is wrong, but at least she did insure that they would have power. Rhaena being Lady of Driftmark means that she will reside over the birthland of her mother (and given how Luke has been raised, I'm going to assume co-leader as well.) Baela marrying Jace means she will be queen one day, which will make her the second-most powerful person in the Seven Kingdoms by rank (and given her personality in the book, as well as the bits and pieces we get in the show and deleted scenes: also in practice.) As far as we know, Vaemond had no plans to give his nieces anything; he has his own wife, children and grandchildren at this point.

If Vaemond's only true concern was the survival of his house, then the arrangement for Luke and Rhaena, in theory, should be perfect to him. But what does he do? He doubles-down, makes a spectacle of himself and it costs him his life. Brutally, might I add. Even if Daemon didn't kill him, Vaemond would've left King's Landing tongue-less.

But, it didn't even have to resort to that. Daemon aside, let's just say that he still wants Driftmark for himself, there were smarter ways to react. I honestly think he should've just been more politically practical, and took a page out of Otto's book.

Otto took a big L in this episode. This court meeting was supposed to be the beginning of the end for Rhaenyra as heir. His plan was to get Vaemond to press the claim of Driftmark, with Otto sitting the Iron Throne in-lieu of Viserys, he would of course side with Vaemond no matter how good of a reasoning Rhaenyra made. Luke would be publicly outed as a bastard, which would then delegitimize Jace, and then Rhaenyra herself. Then bam, Aegon II is made heir.

But his plans are foiled when Viserys makes his surprise entrance. You can see the look on he and Alicent's face. They know they're screwed and Plan A is down the toilet. But they don't run around calling Rhaenyra a "whore" and rant to Viserys about how he has robbed Aegon. They sit back, observe and roll with the punches, because Otto is that person that always has a Plan B (as we see in the following episode.)

If Vaemond wasn't so wrapped up in his own ambitions, then he would've heard of the match, fake smiled at it, and then met with the Greens afterwards to plot another way on how he could get Driftmark. Hell, he could've even bargained with Rhaenyra for him to be made Master of Ships on the Small Council in the event of his brother's passing. But he doesn't, and the chips fell where they did.

Overall Vaemond is a tragic character, because he struggles with second-son syndrome similar to how Daemon and Aemond do. He does clearly care for his family, but wishes to find his own footing within it and is envious of his older brother for having the most power. I truly think he would have been fascinating to see if he would've become a political player for the Greens or Team Black, or did something all on his own. But alas, he wasn't that kind of character. Vaemond is similar to Ned Stark in the way that they both forget how to play the game and it ends up costing them greatly.

[wizardfamiliarchan]

Connecting...

Connecting...

You have now connected to the Grand Database. Please enter your credentials to proceed.

username: crowelrynthixthree

password: ************

Now entering the Grand Database...

Loading...

Loading...

Now entering the Grand Database. Please choose a destination.

> crow's character bio | main menu

Operator Note: The text below is not required reading, but if you want to know more about Crow, read to the bio section and stop. The wizard tower and trivia section are super not-required.

WIZARDBLR LORE SHEET: CROW, THE HELPFUL FAMILIAR

Name: Crow (see bio for full name)

Age: Unknown (looks middle-aged)

Species: Qhuvois (half-familiar (changeling type), half-qhunqroiks)

Appearance: Crow, in her base form, has pale skin, no nose, and two large orbs that seem to function as rudimentary "eyes". These eyes on their own cannot move, so she has to physically move her head in order to look around. Her head, which floats just above her body, is a shade darker than her skin, and her "eyes" sit directly in the middle of her face. She has no nose, just two small slits underneath her "eyes", and no mouth, as she speaks telepathically with those she comes across. She has long, thin fingers and toes, each of which has webbing in between them, and a long, thin tail. Her entire body is covered in a thin slime, but as it is not waterproof, she cannot swim, despite having webbed fingers and toes. No images of her in this form have been found, but many artists have tried to replicate this, though to no avail.

In her common human form, she has white skin, long hair, and dark brown eyes. Her hair is often hidden underneath a flowing headpiece, upon which she attaches things such as small lanterns, charms, and ropes. She never shows off her hands, as she prefers to wear gloves. She has a slightly-crooked nose in this form, and her mouth is often painted in a shade of dark red. The headpiece she wears is styled after the traditional hairstyles of her people, and she rarely ever takes it off.

In her other common form, she takes on the form of a large crow. She has dark purple-black feathers, a long beak, and beady eyes. She cannot fly, as her wings have been clipped, but she refuses to anyway, even if she could. In this form, she is unable to speak, though she understands human words better than in either of her other forms.

In all of her forms, she is recognizable by the red Binti-like dot on her forehead, though in her human form, she hides it under her headpiece. She is also easily recognizable because of her height, as she stands at a formidable six feet, seven inches, the average size for her people, though this only applies to her human and base forms. In her crow form, she is just slightly larger than average.

Powers: Despite being biologically a familiar, she possesses all the standard wizarding abilities, such as minor spellcasting and "animal control" abilities. However, each ability comes with a price. In order to cast spells of any kind, she must recite a haiku that relates to the spell she wants to cast, something she can often do silently. She cannot control any animals that she cannot change into, so this means she cannot have a familiar of her own that isn't either a primate, ghost, or a bird of any kind. Because familiars cannot go to wizard school, she has learnt everything she knows on her own, and, as such is adept in grimoire-reading. She is able to speak three languages, though she rarely ever does. She is also able to understand the animals she turns into, something that has proven useful several times throughout her life. She has a constitution of fifteen, a wisdom of seventeen, and a charisma of fourteen, though despite these high stats, she prefers to be alone rather than use them for the greater good. She cannot manipulate any sorts of elements or spaces, no matter how hard she tries. She cannot cast anything unless she has a wand in hand, and she uses a dragon-forged wand made of brightsteel to accomplish this.

Companions: Despite her love of being alone, she has two companions, a howler monkey named Khan and a ghost familiar of her own named Ashaya. Ashaya is the exact opposite of her, and Khan is extremely loyal, though this wasn't originally the case. She met her companions while working for a former wizard in the city of [REDACTED], where she had lived for four years at the time, when she left the city to go on a "gathering mission" for her boss.

Bio: The earliest known appearance of Crow in any known historical records has her listed under the name "Mlinf", a word in the ancient Onynyoft language that means "wicked". At the time, she was working for a teacher at the Shtiwi-Hwany School for Alchemy and Wizardry, a school that, despite her being employed there (through proxy), she could not attend due to her race. Her boss, the well-endowed-financially Thuahh Nalwo, was the principal (or Headmaster, depending on where you're from) at the time, and, as such, she was the first familiar Vice-Chaplain (yes, chaplain; they stick to their religious private school roots hard) at the school in its seven centuries of operation. Because of this, despite being treated with respect by the students, she was often bossed around by her superiors, as the school was, and still is, known for its anti-familiar ways. During this time, because most people she encountered could not pronounce her name, she started going by the name Crow, a name derived from her real name, C'Fawkaal'wotdiar Dashengan Mall-Kotmà, a name only a select few knew in full at the time, and took up a semi-permanent residence in the school library, where she could often be found reading the latest books or researching the newest mysteries. However, after a house fire four years later, she was kicked out of the establishment, with which she had spent her entire working life at the time, as everyone seemed to believe the fire was her fault (it wasn't. Someone had accidentally used a fireball spell on the wooden walls of the mess hall). Following this, she moved halfway across the country she called home, taking up residence in the city of Bankyoji. She lived there for two years before moving of her own accord, during which time she went fully vegan. She spent eight years in [REDACTED], then moved to Mezhyni, where she lived for twelve years as a member of the city's world-famous quintalix team, the Firebulls. Following the end of her quintalix career, she moved to K'xalm, where she lives to this day.

Wizard Tower: Crow's wizard tower is a rather antiquated work of "art", as she calls it. It's a large, castle-like building, itself reminiscent of the castle towers of old, but everything about it screams "goth". It is fifteen stories tall, and each story has its own use. There is a garden behind the tower, and she can often be found tending to it. The first five floors of her tower are all libraries, each one dedicated to a certain subject and only that. The first floor is a science library, the second social studies/history, the third English literature of old, the fourth law, and the fifth spells/all things magical. The next five floors are all in various state of mess, though the bottom-most of the set is perfectly divided into several guest bedrooms. Crow's room takes up the entirety of the seventh floor, and both her familiar Ashaya and her howler monkey Khan live on the eighth floor. The ninth floor is a potion-making laboratory, and the tenth floor is a fully-functioning shop from which she sells customized robes and hats she ships by rented dragoncart. The eleventh floor is a "weapons" room of sorts, as it is where Crow trains to better her health and improve her skills. The twelfth floor is an art gallery, where Crow shows off the robe and hat test swatches she makes as well as art pieces she buys, and her roommate, Luna, lives on the thirteenth floor. The fourteenth floor is the top of a giant elevator that spans the entire tower, as it is bespelled to block any and all teleportation spells. The fifteenth and final floor is a porch of sorts, as it allows her to look over the city if she so chooses. Flags line the walls, and there are two large windows positioned seemingly at random on the front face of the tower. Her bedroom is full of spellbooks, and several large maps can be found laying on her floor. A large, almost-regal-looking canopy bed sits next to a wall, black curtains pulled shut over a black bed covered in light gray sheets. There are dragons carved into the bedposts, and there is a bookshelf opposite the bed. She has a computer on a desk next to the bookshelf, but it is turned off, as it isn't plugged in. It is believed she stole this computer from a junkyard, but only her tight-lipped roommate knows the truth about this. She has a lute hanging above the bookshelf, which was given to her by her roommate Luna, and a pencil holder on her desk in the shape of Julius Caesar's back. It is believed that the pencil holder used to be a coffee mug, but nobody can confirm this. She has many stuffed animals scattered across her floor, though this is because she refuses to pick them up as she has too many to carry at once.

Trivia

She is aroace.

She hates swimming. Ironically, she lives on a lake.

Her favorite food is tofu.

She is colorblind, as changelings see the same colors as dogs.

Her favorite thing to do is watch quintalix matches.

Before settling down in K'xalm, she was a professional quintalix player herself. She played for the Mezhyni Firebulls.

When she lived in [REDACTED], she was forced to wear boyish clothes, as it was seen as sexist for a man to have a female servant of any race (and it still is).

She now adores dresses and refuses to wear anything else.

She is lactose intolerant.

She uses she/her, king/kingself, and it/its pronouns.

Of her entire family, she only gets along with two people: her parents.

As they were not allowed on the quintalix field and were not commonplace when she was a child, she hates wearing shoes and will not go anywhere that requires them.

She refuses to drink elixirs unless she knows about and can pronounce every ingredient in them. This means there are only three things she drinks: tea, water, and almond milk.

She is a twin.

Her birthday falls on the Tsîksyù, a holiday celebrated amongst the chimaera familiars that is often confused for Christmas despite being celebrated in March.

She has a twin brother. They do not talk much.

Her favorite game is Call of the Wild, a board game a close friend made several years before she (Crow) joined the Firebulls.

She has seven fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot.

In her human form, she has longer nails than most. This is supposed to make up got the length of her hands in her base form.

King hates watching people play games. She'd rather play them itself.

She is the longest resident of K'xalm, having lived there for eighteen years as of the present.

She is immortal. It is unknown when she was born.

The languages she can speak are Qur’ashath, Pandemonic, and English, though she is only fluent (not native) in one of them. She is a native speaker in one, and learning another.

She is an avid reader.

She doesn't like heights unless she's walled in.

She has a Scottish accent. This accent changes every time she "dies".

She cannot truly die, as she gets reincarnated within seconds of it.

Every time she gets reincarnated, she retains all memories leading up to her death, but not the death itself. She also does not remember the event that caused it.

She loves coffee. But just the smell.

Despite her name, crows are not her favorite animal. Her favorite animals are ravens and wolves. She chose her name because it was easy to pronounce.

Like most changelings, she rarely ever uses her real name. This is because it is seen as extremely rude to do so. For this reason, she rarely shares her real name.

She loves caramel.

Has several candles in her bedroom.

Prefers to walk places and teleport short distances as opposed to using public transportation or driving places, but will if must.

Is very friendly. Luna and Ashaya are not.

No-one knows what a qhunqroiks is. Crow is the main reason why. (She refuses to talk about her family, but people know there are two qhunqroiki in it.)

She often refers to her most prized grimoire as "book" (as she looks up to the Sanderson Sisters, rather well-known goddesses in her world that bear little resemblance to the human creations of the same collective name) and her wand as "Melody", the name it was given by the merchant she bought it from.

She is the honorary mayor of K'xalm. The city doesn't officially have one, but she pretends to be so they don't get fined by the Regents Council.

She is extremely protective of her tower. Like so much so king could get hurt if it isn't careful.

It loves to eat tofu pot pies, and is good at making them.

Her favorite possessions are her prized grimoire and her dragon-forged brightsteel wand.

She loves piano ballads, yet doesn't like to play piano.

It has taken to sharing its full name now that her species is going extinct, as king believes this will do more good than harm...contrary to what her roommate and ghost familiar believe. She only shares her full name with those she trusts.

Has not traveled since she moved to K'xalm. Unless she has to for work.

Loves fae-made foods.

Does not like most tattoos. She thinks they're too permanent. (The only tattoos she likes are Luna's two.)

Thinks script/word tattoos are stupid, but understands why people would get them.

"Familiars are rather elusive creatures, as only a select few people have ever been able to catch a glimpse of them. There are five known types: Chimaera, Changeling, Summoner, Construct, and Ghost. Each type has their own strengths and weaknesses, but none more so than the changeling breed, if you wish to call them as such. [...] The changeling breed is known for their uncanny ability to mimic the appearance of anything they come across, though this ability only extends to living creatures. Alongside this, they are said to be the rarest type of familiar, with employment rates ranging between 1.5-3.3% as of my last foray into the Forbidden Forests."

- Kingston Brass, Guide to the Magical World IV: Familiars and Apprentices

Crow is a character I have created solely for this blog! She is a new character, but one I plan to flesh out as time goes on. She has her own loreset, and all of the colors she uses in her posts have specific meanings.

Red: spells

Purple: crow form

Black: base form/dialogue/*roleplay text*

Green: healing/shifting

Orange: monkey form/all other forms

Blue: telepathy

This blog, to keep it consistent with the lore, is run by three different entities, the Qhuvois Crow, her roommate Luna (a half-orc), and her ghost familiar, Ashaya, all characters within the world of Crow. You can find information about my blog under the cut, as well as my DNI.

Welcome to my blog! I'm Crow, but you can call me Kalmiya, Diphda, or Leona; I'm fine with any of those names, though I prefer Crow for this blog specifically, and either Leona or Kalmiya for my others.

I have a main blog over at @crowstar-in-a-hat, a couple side blogs over at @littlebunnydiphda and @voidromantic-culture-is, to name a few, and this one. They're all dedicated to different things, so be sure to check them out! I haven't posted on them in a while though...(to see a full list, go here!)

(DNI ID: transphobic, TERF/radfem, homophobic, anti-Mspec, racist, pedo (MAP/NOMAP) or supporter, supportive of incest, sexist, ableist, ace/arophobic, anti-non-binary, anti-microlabels, anti-neopronouns, anti-xenogenders, and/or an exclusionist. END ID)

[felixcloud6288]

Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 103

I was wondering where Black Hayate was.

If you think about it, Roy got off pretty easy compared to everyone else who ever opened the portal. It only took Roy's ability to see, it didn't even take his eyes. Meanwhile, Pride's body is falling apart and he's lost almost all of his powers.

My head-canon about Truth is it is semi-omniscient. It's similar to the concept of the Monad in ancient Greek Philosophy. It is a being the represents the totality of all things. Truth is One, All, the World, the Universe, and You. So it should be aware of everything happening and know how things will conclude.

Father called the Truth an "Arbiter of Order" who "puts men in their place", but Truth is just a little thing in a flask that stole power to get where it is.

So I think the Truth wasn't really punishing Roy. It's really setting up Father to suffer his own punishment. And to do that, Truth took the barest minimum from Roy to make him a usable piece in Father's plan.

But at the same time it wants Roy, who has previously been blind with rage and blind to the feelings of those around him, to learn a lesson to be a better person.

Ed and Al made these platforms to set up an air-to-ground attack.

For Ed, the most effective way to set up a fast-moving dive attack is to build up height by jumping off his slanted platforms which will help him keep his momentum.

For Al, he's too big and heavy to do something like that. So he just builds steps and runs along them to gain height. He can just let his weight and gravity provide the force of his dive.

Wrath likely knows he won't live to the end of the day. At this point, he's fulfilled all his necessary obligations to Father. King Bradley has fallen in battle. He is free to do what he wants. And he wants to go out fighting a grand fight.

Wrath has no ideals. Everything in his life has been driven by someone else's design. But in a fight to the death, no divide or ideals matter. Everyone fighting to the death is just trying to survive. Perhaps that's why he's so excited to have this fight.

Until a few months ago, Scar also had no ideals to himself. He had abandoned his name, his religion, and everything he valued so he could live a life bent on revenge.

But now he lives to bring about change in Amestris. And he chose to embrace the culmination in his brother's research as part of that ideal.

I mentioned I'd talk about Scar's tattoos way back in chapter 16, and this is probably the best time to give my thoughts on it.

The two tattoos together have "TERRA", "AER", "IGNIS", and "AQUA" written across them. So the tattoos use the four elements of earth, air, fire, and water.

The twin snakes are likely representative of the Caduceus, the staff that Hermes carried. The staff would later be the basis for the symbol for Mercury which represents the spirit.

The staff itself is associated with trade and commerce, which ideally is an reciprocal exchange.

In modern days, the Caduceus is sometimes mistaken for the Rod of Asclepius which depicts a single snake wrapping around a rod (And might be partial inspiration for the symbol Ed, Al, and Izumi have on them). The Rod of Asclepius represents medicine.

But moving on, I think the most interesting part of the tattoo is how the left and right arms are inversions of each other. The left arm is entirely in white while the right is black. And the patterns are upside down from each other as well.

And since there's a sort of arrow pattern along them, it makes me envision a flow concept. Scar's alchemy uses Xingese Purification Arts which channel energy from the pulse of the earth. So I imagine the two arms combined are supposed to channel that energy through the user. Maybe it's something like energy flows out of the right arm to induce destruction and then that energy flows back into the left arm to induce creation. And since Scar only had the right arm, he could add energy to break things apart, but couldn't channel it back to create.

One thing that's especially interesting is Scar's Alchemy doesn't use a circle. Every Alchemist either has a tool with a circle or has a circle tattooed to their hands, but Scar does neither. I was thinking at one point that maybe the act of channeling between both arms might act as the circle, but Scar could use destruction Alchemy without the right arm while Ed has to clap his hands to perform it.

It seems like Scar's brother figured out some entirely new way to perform Alchemy.

And one little pointless note. Scar's tattoos have the letters A, V, E, and H under TERRA, AER, IGNIS, and AQUA respectively. I have no idea what, if anything, they mean. The only thing that popped to mind was those are letters for 4 of the 20 essential amino acids needed to build proteins, but that seems far too separate from everything.

back

[bloomboxygo]

Melodious' Design Review! (With tier list)

No matter what I'll say next, I cherish all of the wonderful Melodious Monsters that grace YGO with their presence. However, with a more subjective but analytic view on designs, or vibes... Some will come to be better than others. Even so, this'll just be an occurrence to talk about every Melodious.

Well, in order to make an image thumbnail I'll first post the Tier List. You can go do your rankings here if you so wish!

...And now, let's properly review each Melodious, starting from the bottom.

-Ahm... (Some criticisms, but still fine!)

Tamtam

Honestly, the thing that bugs me about Tamtam's design is her outfit's color scheme. It's a mix of somewhat muted colors, most prominently the aquamarine on her puffy shoulder pads and thigh guards contrasting with the red around her blue corset, all because these two want to be decorated with gold as opposed to the orange over the aquamarine. It's just weird looking, and makes for a green-ish and red combination that, while striking when saturated, doesn't work super well when subdued. But, while the fact that she's the only Diva with an instrument, and named after an instrument, is weird, her tamtam has overall a really nice color scheme (gold on that purple-red is really good).

Solo

Honestly, there's not much bad at all with her, it's just two things: her face looks kinda kiddy-ish and small and I don't know what's up with the bandages on her arms. They're not consistent with the ones around her legs which at least sell themselves more as a decoration. Did she hurt her arms out of her being destroyed by battle a lot? Eh, who knows. The rest of her outfit's nice enough, but I especially like the hair that looks like a winged greek helmet.

Adorable (Great designs!)

Opera

You know what I said about muted color schemes? Opera's dress actually works very well because a more muted lilac is more delicate and a great contrast to Opera's pink cotton candy hair. It's also complemented by the structure of the dress with its multiple veils and the light pink cloud with blue notes that seams the bottom of it, as well as the wings on her back, give her an adorable feel. Could do something about the breastplate though, the way it's placed it plain looks... Odd.

Score

An admittedly harder one to describe... The surface seems to be plain white with some gold and purple, but there's so much more beneath the surface. Many details which I find both cute and puzzling at the same time. I remember saying it before in a post which I think got deleted, but she has many space-like elements in her design: her antennae and Team Galactic hairstyle, her purple undergown, her "cape" which looks like a wave crash... Many elements. She's quirky, cute, but a bit confusing.

Serenade

What a pretty, autumn-colored lady. It's a very warm coded color scheme that's pleasant to look to. Her skin provides a light contrast to that scheme, being violet as opposed to the yellow and orange of her dress and the pinks of her hair and headpiece, and it really brings a tender sense of warmth to her, fitting for a serenade. If anything, my only nitpick here is that the dress is a bit overdesigned: I dunno what the pink decoration on her left arms aims to communicate visually, and I don't like the green on yellow too much.

Soprano

Now this is what I'd like to call a well-rounded design. Nothing too amazing, but no personal complaints! That white toga underneath the dark blue armor with the orange tips really sells the "greek" idea of the muse here. Also an interesting choice that they decided to cover her eyes. Whether she's blind or that's a costume choice, we may never know. Her headpiece and hair are also more fantastical than the rest of her design, which I have a hard time interpreting, but I don't think I necessarily have to.

Bloom Prima

This is another design I have no particular complaints of. Being a Bloom Choir Monster means she has a specific design theme to convey, that of the flower imagery. I feel like Bloom Diva does a better job a bit in all aspects at communicating that and with her design in general, but that more colorful, vivid color palette is more fitting of a youthful figure. Also her hair is really elaborate and kinda looks like two flowers in itself, and dark blue is an inspired color choice to contrast with the dominant yellow. Also the shoulder campanula boomboxes are a nice touch.

Bloom Harmonist

A VERY elaborate design in a role that is... Quite its own, so it's not tied to any previous imagery besides the flower theme. Her dress makes for an overall very pleasant and delicate color scheme, with an aquamarine main presence that meshes really well with the pink, as well as the green and softer gold accents. Also her plain look in her face (for lack of a better term, contrasting her with the Melodious' various skin colors), works very well with her flowing intricate hair and pretty, pretty flower at the top.

Couplet

OOOH MAAANNNN

Sometimes the analytical part of my brain has to be the one to decide. By heart, I adore Couplet. And my complaint... Admittedly is hard to parse. Because... Dang, her design is just kinda all over the place, isn't it?

Well, not entirely. There is an obvious mirror with her and Refrain that comes with the plated parts of her dress. If you put these two together, you essentially form Soprano's armor in form. I think it's super cute and valid that these two complete each other in their designs. Still... The color scheme for everything else is... Wild. Mostly the blues on her puffy skirt are there to complement the blue and gold on her plated parts. But then there's various oranges, purple, a hint of black in her undershirt, her green skin and pink hair that aren't really present anywhere else in her design... That color scheme might have just been the point, to make her kinda look wild in contrast to Refrain, but probably there could have been a more colorful scheme because admittedly, besides the blue, it's kind of muted. Anyway, Couplet's pretty, she can dress how the heck she wants and I'm sure she's really happy about it.

Also another thing she shares with refrain are her back rainbow neon wings. I love them, they're so pretty, and it makes me kinda mad they've never been drawn. They go so well with their designs, especially Couplet's.

Flowering Etoile

OOOH I DUNNO MAAANNNN

This is undoubtedly the hardest placement for me. And the hardest one to see for most of you guys, I believe. Just A tier? Am I still hung up on the whole bottom half of her dress being too much? YES. Yes I am. There's a serious imbalance on how much there is at the top and the bottom. An elegant pink ballerina suit with music and gold accents, contrasting with the bottom filled with flowers, an alternate star mail, a layer of what looks like leaves under it, star ribbons and big top knots. And it's all just... Kind of hard to really understand because I get that there are supposed to be tons of references there, but it's just too much! Or... Is it? The card art showing all that bulkiness in full display doesn't help. So much so that most fanarts I've seen don't go for that full view of her, rather drawing her from the front, in which the star mail and everything besides her flower aren't that visible and it looks easier on the eyes, OR... Only draw the top part of her and the flowers on her hips. I believe it would have looked better if they unified the bottom part with that Yuzu flower theme. It's imperative that it stays on and I believe they're a really nice addition to the design! But what if it was just that flower gown? Or what if they went extra into it and make that a full flower dress? Though I guess that would make her have a harder time moving as she's a dancer...

Or an idol? It's kind of a thing I also noticed with Couplet and Refrain, but Etoile most of all looks more like an idol than a classical singer, and it's just a thing I can't overlook. Yuzu and idols haven't really stuck together much, so I dunno about that inspiration. Unless the Mikiyo Duel which was glossed over in the anime had that much of an influence. Despite all of that, I can't really put her low. I just cannot.

SHE'S JUST SO ADORABLE!

Like I said, the top half of her outfit is perfect and her hair, while a little wild, contribute to that comforting, feminine, and graceful look perfectly worthy of Rata's words "Color scheme of a warm hug". At a glance I can just FEEL it. And again... Fanart might have helped here because it focused on her top half.

She looks just like the right person to comfort and soothe you. Bit bulky at the bottom, but she's still a goddess.

SPLENDID (Fantastic designs!)

From now on, I've pretty much got no complaints.

Shopina

The main deck Maestras will be almost put together because they have quite a bit of similarities when it comes to the style and clothing. They're very much inspired from the IRL composers, especially with the hair. Shopina's style feels slightly lighter than Mozarta's, it's a bit hard to describe: The dress is shown to have softer fabrics and a blue overall color scheme with some whites, which translates will with her light blue hair and lilac-pink skin. Also she has an ethereal piano. And back harp wings.

Mozarta

Mozarta's color scheme and dress feels stronger than Shopina's, with more plated parts adorning the gown, as well as a red scheme with gold accents. Also the conductor's baton is just perfect for a Maestra and she's the OG in that. A detail I really like about her is the lines underneath her eyes. It's something that just made me speculate future design philosophies behind other Melodious Monsters. And I like her simpler harp wings better than Shopina's.

Canon

In terms of color scheme, now I kinda see why I thought Couplet was a bit much in color. We kinda have that here, but more focused. Blue and black on her checkered skirt, and mostly purple on her bust, all complimented by a pretty gold mask. Also her hairstyle makes her look rough, like a blue flame, but graceful at the same time and I think it's how she moves with it (in the anime).

Elegy

Oh, gorgeous. It's probably due to her elegance in her pose and demeanor, but I think she is. Purple color scheme with green skin is a really neat contrast, and I kinda like that her green hair's... Kinda messy looking? I dunno, it just looks cuter.

Sonata

Well, we're getting to the OGs now. I think when it comes to "greek muse" Sonata's the fundamental one. Very uniform in color and maybe a bit too simple in her style, but a scheme that very much works nonetheless. Even so, I like more uniform designs and she pulls it off really well.

Aria

And hey, her dear companion! The actual OG in a sense, carries that same sense of semplicity, and I guess pulls off the look of also looking somewhat like a dancer with her dark brown outfit over her bronze skin, a pleasant contrast. She gets a bit different with it with her gap on her belly as well as that big cloth wrap around her hips, but the scheme works with her design. Also bronze and purple with her hair... She really has a cute face!

Refrain

We have Couplet's companion right here. I tried to keep the two close in the tier list (that's why they're not ordered within the tiers) because they do truly complement each other. Refrain contributes the other plated parts, as well as a different styled pair of rainbow back wings, more rigorous and simple than Couplet's.

And it really seems to be a design philosophy to contrast the two. Refrain has quite a bit going on in her design, but she keeps it somewhat uniform in her color scheme, maintaining various hues of red that are also present in her hair, with a hint of orange for the dress (also keeping gold and silver accents) and yellow for the hair, and not only that, she wears an elegant and sleek full dress at the bottom as opposed to Couplet's poofy skirt. Very well kept overall.

Schuberta

Ooh mama.

They were probably pushing a bit with this design, I'll admit. Both well-endowed and her poofy dress makes her look... Curvier... For a lack of a better term.

Even still, the design has gone quite a bit away from the other Maestras while still... Being one in spirit. The hairstyle isn't quite the same, opting for a wild luscious redhead style that isn't quite like Schubert's, but that would be kind of hilarious to translate 1-on-1. But it really looks like flames. Her gold mask also accentuates that different look, while keeping the eyes full like the other Maestras to keep that distinction in design. The dress is also different as previously stated, more uniquely decorated, having a red pentagram that spirals on a black dress with orange tips. Also her baton kinda looks like a fencing sword, which I found really neat.

Anyway, gorgeous design. Even though the ornaments on her shoulders and hips are a tad weird.

SSSUBLIME (Creme of the Crop)

Well, we only have two left and you should already know who. Let's get to it.

Bacha

OOOOH MAMA!!

Out of the new Melodious designs we've gotten, this is the real KILLER out of the bunch. Just. Gorgeous.

Could be because of my affinity towards these Maestras and how classy they look, but she takes it a step further by putting a spin on a concept that I feared would be represented and making it the main draw of the design, and just plain sublime on its own: a darker Fusion that could very well be a play off the Parasite Fusions Windwitch and Lyrilusc got, as if she's reenacting it.

I wouldn't have wanted to ever come close to that concept due to the whole Parasite thing angering and disgusting me, but she manages to pull that darker look with aplomb. Pure black dress with gold ornaments is a brilliant, tried and true color scheme, and contrasts with her pale blonde hair, pale white body and red eyes super well. Not to mention the transparent dark veil behind Bacha and that crimson under-dress right at the bottom are just the cherry on top of that design and the angle really shows off all of her dominant presence.

It all creates an inspired menacing look that offers a unique spin on the generally bright and light Melodious designs.

Bloom Diva

Even with all that said, and with the tiers not being ordered, people who know me knew I'd put her on the top. Heck, I've done an analysis of her already. And the design was a section of that analysis.

And yeah, despite all of Bacha's praises, I'll always have Bloom Diva as my favorite. Yes, even in design. Much of it still stands out today in her Maestra-like traits she inherited from Mozarta like whole azure eyes and marks underneath, her simple, yet elegant dress with some flower inspiration. THE FLOWER STAGE IS STILL THE MOST INSPIRED CHOICE THEY'VE DONE WITH MELODIOUS. I love it to bits, and it makes her stand out among all other Melodious Monsters.

What else can I say, really? You'll of course find more in the link, but I'm still very fond of Bloom Diva, her design, and what she represents. All making for a soothing, elegant and adorable experience with a hint of power and fright. Wonderful.

Anyway, that's it for me. Ranking Melodious Monsters probably isn't even that fair for me because I will cherish anything Melodious. I can't bring myself to dislike even one of them, no matter how they are.

I'm sure not many will agree with me on this, but that's okay. Tastes and all, that's really how it should be.

So, who are your favorite Melodious?

[willknightauthor]

A.Z. Foreman is an amazing linguist who's not only an expert in reconstruction who can personally pronounce even dead languages like a native speaker, he's also a translator and poet in his own right. Even just this little bit is amazing, maybe the best translation of the Shahnameh I've yet seen.

Exordium

Now in the name of God all things extol, The Lord of wisdom and the human soul, Beyond which there does not exist a thing Our minds can ever compass, Sovereign King Of all that is, of every name and place, Guide and sustainer of the human race, The cosmic Lord who wheels the stars of night, Who gave the sun, the moon and Venus light, Above all name or thought or signifying, High artificer of the underlying. You can't make out your Maker with your eye However much you strain it. Do not try. Minds can't grasp Him. He is the overall Being unnameable, unplaceable. It would take more than sapience to attain Things so beyond this elemental plane. Our minds with every word in their command Have only words for what they understand, So none knows how to praise Him as He is. Just bind yourself in reverence. You are His. He measured out the intellect, defined The soul of man. How would a measured mind Contain Him? Could the implements of thought Or soul or language rightly praise what brought Them into being? You need but confess That He exists, and speak no idleness. Seek the right path. Have reverence and awe, And go about with care to heed His law. This is the fact: to know is to be strong. And knowing God will turn the old heart young. But words can never pierce the veil we see. Our mind will never touch His quiddity.

In Praise of Reason

Now that I see the chance for it arise Here let me talk of reason to the wise, For it is greater than God's other gifts. Better its praise than justice. It uplifts The heart. It is life's vanguard, guides the vexed. It is your aid in this world and the next, Your fount of grief and joy, the origin Of every moment that you lose or win. If it goes dark, even the brightest soul Will never live a day of feeling whole Or happy. So a man of eloquence Once said to nourish our intelligence: "Whoever does not pay his wisdom heed Will slice himself to shreds with every deed, Wise men deem him an idiot and a danger As his own people turn him out a stranger." In this world as the next, it keeps you free. The man whose reason breaks finds slavery. For reason is the sole eye of the soul. The eyeless in this world have no control. It was created first, before all else, To brace the soul and the three sentinels Called eye and ear and tongue. These are the three That bring about all ill and good you see. Who can praise soul and reason fitly here? Even if I were fit to, who could hear? Since we're unfit to speak about all this, Let's hear instead how God made all that is. You, authored by the Lord who willed the days, Don't know this world's overt or covert ways. Let those who know show you the way. Go on Throughout this world, and talk to everyone. And when you've heard all wise men have to say, Still don't stop learning for a single day. Then, when you reach the high word-branches, know That knowledge cannot reach the root below.

The Creation of the World

You need to know the truth, as we begin, Of this world's elemental origin, When out of nothing God created matter In order for His potency to matter. From it, the stuff of the four elements Came in no time and with no toil. Immense Fire arose shining, burning into birth, Then wind and water flowed upon dark earth. First, fire was blown to motion. Hot and high It blazed till there was such a thing as dry. Then it was stilled again as cold took hold, And the first moisture grew out of the cold. The elements existed now, and curled Together so to form our fleeting world. Combining and compounding genera Formed the high orders of phenomena. So came the skydome spinning black and blue With wonders at full tilt, forever new, Revealing stars and planets and their signs, Each in its place, befitting His designs. The spheres were shaped inside each other, cast In motion as the structure set. At last, With sea and desert, dale and mountain height, The earth shone like a colored lamp at night. The mountains loomed. The waters coalesced And every sprouting plant reared up its crest. But Earth itself received no place on high. It was the darkling axis. In the sky A starfield's wonders blazoned overhead Lighting the earth up with the sheen they shed. Fire surges up. Water pours down. The sun Goes round the earth to make its daily run. Grass sprouted up with the assorted trees Happily pressing their heads upward. These Just grow and do not move, for they lack all The animacy of an animal. Animals soon appeared. Those moving things Tamed growing plants beneath their legs and wings. They eat and sleep and rest, and so they thrive. Their satisfaction lies in being alive. No speaking tongue, no seeking mind, they're free To gratify themselves on grass and tree. They do not know if they do good or ill. The Lord asks nothing of them. Grants no will. He is almighty, all-knowing and fair, So nothing's hidden from Him anywhere, Yet none of His creations comprehend The way the workings of this world will end.

[lovecolibri]

Eh, don’t really get the outrage. Carlos avoiding difficult subjects seems so in character to me.

I agree that it seems on brand for him, but what is getting to me is the way it was brought up out of nowhere. And yes, Covid and Liv leaving threw everyone for a loop but just a hint here and there that a) Carlos and Iris were close friends, and b) that there was *something* Carlos wasn't telling anyone could have gone a long way. A mention of some past *something* that his parents didn't approve of in the episodes centered on Carlos, a scene of Carlos taking a very vague one-sided call with Michelle (or even Iris) and hanging up when TK arrives, would have given the audience some build up and giving Carlos a little more depth/backstory without having to majorly tie the whole thing to Michelle. And they could have had Carlos take the call at work or something at the start/end of an emergency so it flowed with the episode, it wouldn't have been *too* hard to drop some hints along the way if this storyline was always the plan.

As for people being upset, I get it because I can be that way about MY blorbos so I'm not gonna shame people for being frustrated or pretend it's brilliant writing, however for me personally, at the moment I'm wiling to see how it's going to play out because the "Judd has a secret son" thing was something I was prepared to HATE but I ended up really enjoying how it was handled. So I'm going to give it a few weeks and see what they're going to do with it.

I will say, one of the most brilliant to me personally lines about relationships that has stuck with me is from the first Outlander book and to paraphrase, Jamie basically says that he knows there are things Clair maybe doesn't want to tell him yet or CAN'T tell him, and he has things he isn't ready to share yet either. Then he says their relationship has room for secrets, but not lies, so when she decides to tell him something to tell him the truth and he would do the same for her. We all have things we may not want to share or maybe even don't think are a big deal because it's been a thing for so long and then you tell someone else and it clicks that maybe it IS a big deal. Carlos is NOT in love with someone else, he hasn't been lying to TK about having a secret husband that he planned to build a life with but something happened, he had a marrage of convenience (which he may have said was "in name only"? I don't remember off the top of my head) to someone he cared about as a dear friend and nothing more. He wasn't lying to Iris either about who he was or what the marriage was about. Clearly he thought he had time to resolve the matter quietly without having to inconvenience or upset anyone because we all know how he can be about trying to manage everyone else's emotions. And so far I really like how TK is handling it though I hope we get to hear him talk about his feelings (you can understand a person's actions and still be hurt, and upset at the situation you find yourself in), and I'm excited to dig into Carlos more! It's time we get to see more past that perfect exterior he likes to project and into his complexities because it's been hinted at that he's not as together and he wants everyone to think and I just KNOW Rafa is going to deliver some Performances.

So right now, I'm willing to go on this journey but I get it if some people aren't because we've all been there! It's okay to feel your feelings, it's okay to hate it and come around later, it's okay to be fine now but hate it later, it's okay to hate or enjoy it entirely. It's your experience, do what you need to in order to have a good time (and sometimes that means bitching to like-minded pals until you feel better).