#witness my plight boy

[goodgoblinguy]

Learning homestuck against my will

[dfortrafalgar]

Gift of Belonging

Luffy x GN Reader

Life didn't have a purpose without Luffy.

Warnings: Fic from my 100 followers poll!!! can be read as either platonic or romantic, mentions of self deprecating thoughts but nothing too severe, just some short, feel good, reassuring hugs from our favorite straw hat-wearing captain <3

Taglist: @bokutosbiceps | @luffy0s | @surgeonoffish

You were at the end of your rope when you joined the straw hats, but who wasn’t?  You weren’t special in the grand scheme of the world’s most infamous pirate crew.  You couldn’t compare to the tumultuous lives of the rag-tag bunch that had quickly become your lifeline, you had nothing on being the child of an abusive royal family, or the last survivor of a decimated nation, or the unfortunate witness to the killing of a friend or parent, or a literal god.  You weren’t a cyborg or an animal or a reincarnated being hundreds of years old.  You were just… simple.

And yet, the Straw Hats made you feel accepted.

They made you feel wanted.

And no one had wanted you more than Monkey D. Luffy.

You still struggled to accept the boisterous boy’s words when he welcomed you aboard his grand ship.  You had put up an argument, insisting that you would only get in the way, that your strengths paled in comparison to the rest of the crew, that you had no business being a part of the inner circle of one of the Emperors.  But not a single eyelash was batted in the direction of your plight.  Simply endless stares of patience, waiting for you to finally bite the lure and climb up the gangway and officially join the Straw Hats.  And when you finally did, Luffy had said the words that had stuck with you since then.

“I don’t care who you are.  You’re special and you deserve a spot in my family.”

It was as if the world opened up around you for the first time.  Instead of seeing your surroundings in black and white, colors infiltrated your retinas in ways you had never experienced.  Suddenly, the sunshine that beat down on your skin felt like a pleasant hug from the world, rather than a punishing burn against your weary being.  Food you ate and drank every single day tasted extra good because it was always cooked with love and affection, the flirtatious cook not caring at all where you had come from.  Luffy and his crew made it known from the second they met you that you were deserving of love, respect, and friendship.

And you couldn’t lie… the first few days were overwhelming.

The Straw Hats were loving.  They were really loving, and their unique ways of showing they appreciated you were slowly building up in your veins like a disease until one night, when you were on watch, you cracked.

You broke down.

You sat on the stern of the Thousand Sunny, gazing out from the white-painted railings and over the vastness of the dark ocean and seamlessly blended in with the sky above you, the only light shining on you being from the twinkling stars millions of light years away.  Quiet, salty tears flowed down your cheeks, your shoulders clenched as you wrapped your arms around yourself, sniffling into the collar of your shirt.  You loved your crew, you really did.  You began to realize that you loved them more than you ever loved anyone else in your life, and that thought somehow scared you.  Like you were unprepared.  Like your heart had been so deprived of love for your whole life that the overabundance of it in such a short time caused your brain to short-circuit.  And you cried.  You weeped on the Sunny’s back deck, into the calmness of the night.

Until the sound of clopping flip-flops climbing the steps to where you sat alerted your attention, causing you to freeze up, holding your breath, wishing your tears could evaporate away.

“Hey, what are you doing up here alone?”  It was Luffy, his usually exuberant voice a rare form of calm as he approached you.  He wasted absolutely zero time in plopping himself onto the hard deck beside you, extending his legs and holding his arms out, hands behind his head.

You stayed hunched into yourself, trying to hide your shame in your hands.

“Hey… are you alright?” he asked, his voice somehow even softer.

A faint sniffle from you was all your captain needed to hear.  He sat up with a start and grabbed your shoulders with his calloused hands, yanking you around to face him.  Your eyes were wide with shock at his actions, but you stayed frozen.  It’s not like you could run anywhere, the man was made of rubber.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, an intense stare that bored into your skin.  “Did someone say something to you?  Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, wiping your tears away on your arm.  You took a deep, shuddering inhale before finally forcing your shoulders to relax.  “No… no one said anything to me.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Luffy, despite not being overly emotional in normal circumstances, was scarily good at reading people.  It didn’t matter if you couldn’t outright say what was bothering you, he would eventually figure it out with that convoluted tunnel system of a brain.  His adorable lips curled into a pout as he analyzed your face, picking apart every twitch of your muscles.

You inhaled once more, turning your face away from him slightly.  “I’m just… not used to this.”

“Not used to what?”

His questions, and the feigned clueless tone of his voice almost made a smile crack onto your face.  Another talent of Monkey D. Luffy: he was like a wrecking ball for the walls you built up around yourself.

“I’m not used to… this.”  Your hands circled around you, gesturing to the ship, causing Luffy to finally drop his hands from your shoulders.  “Being a part of a crew.  You guys are… too nice to me.”

Luffy was ready with a response immediately.  “We could never be ‘too nice to you.’  That’s impossible.  We love you.”

Your lip quivered slightly.  “That’s what I’m not used to.”

“Being loved?”

There it was.  You feebly nodded.  “Yeah.  That.”

Your captain scooted across the deck closer to you, if that was even possible.  He was basically flush against you at this point.  He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm bear hug, his fluffy black hair tickling the skin of your cheek.  “We love you because you’re special to us, we don’t need a reason for that,” he described.  His voice faltered, as if he wanted to say something else, as if he was trying to add to his words.  Instead, he squeezed you into him, closing his eyes as he felt your muscles grow limp.  ‘We love you, but I love you more.’

“I just wish it was easier for me to accept that,” you whispered into his shoulder, struggling to hug him back.

Luffy’s embrace didn’t relent.  If anything, he tried to pull you in closer.  The force of his hug made you lose your balance on the floor, falling over on top of him, your chin hitting his shoulder.  But he still didn’t let up.  He held firm, squeezing you as if you would fade away into dust if he let go.

“Luffy–” you wheezed against his skin.

“What?”  He sounded completely oblivious.  “I’m going to keep hugging you until you don’t feel sad anymore.  No more crying,” he demanded.  “Captain’s orders.”  His last sentence held a hint of playfulness, the smile he surely wore on his face coming through the sound of his voice.

He must have been contagious, because your own grin slowly grew on your lips.  After what felt like hours, you finally reciprocated his hug, curling your arms under him and letting yourself finally relax in his embrace.  You knew Luffy had odd ways of showing he cared, but this was definitely unexpected.  Unexpected, but not necessarily unappreciated.  His presence emitted a warmth akin to summertime air, his existence like the calming breeze of the open ocean that wafted around you and circled you in comforting drafts.  Luffy never judged, never wavered, never ceased to let his crew, and now you, know how truly grateful he felt to be able to live his life with his favorite people.

You made a slight movement to stand up, but Luffy’s arms tightened their hold around your back.  “Not yet,” he grumbled.  “I don’t wanna stand up yet.”

“Is this how you comfort everyone on the crew?” you asked, your voice coming out muffled as you spoke into his neck.

“Hmm… not necessarily.  Everyone’s different.  Chopper really loves hugs, and Zoro lets me hug him, but sometimes Nami and Robin can take them or leave them.  Usopp likes hugs but doesn’t like to admit it.”  A smile crawled to your face as your captain rattled off the preferences of your fellow crewmates, the ways in which he perceived their unique and individual personalities bringing a comforting reassurance to your heart.  “I feel like you really like hugs, and you clearly needed one right now.”

You bit the inside of your lower lip, trying to bite back the tears that formed in the corners of your eyes.  The tension escaping your body dissipated in large waves, leaving you with nothing but warmth and comfort in the arms of the man who had surely saved your life.

And for the first time since officially joining the Straw Hats, you began to feel truly, unconditionally loved.  It was miraculous.  All it took was a single hug from the nicest, most selfless person you had ever met.

Someday, you’d be sure to return the favor for Luffy, even if he wouldn’t accept.

[phantobats]

I NEED to see your version of a reverse robin au!!!!

To be honest, I have been thinking of starting my own Reverse Robins AU, so here are my ideas for that under the cut !

In this universe, as Dick Grayson is not the first Robin, all of the Robins are instead called Squires, to fit with the Dark Knight theme Bruce has going on.

Bruce Wayne's Journey to Becoming the Dark Knight

At the age of 19, Bruce Wayne, driven by a thirst for justice and a desire to master the skills needed to combat crime, joins the League of Assassins. His exceptional talents quickly propel him through the ranks, catching the attention of Ra's al Ghul, the enigmatic leader of the League. Impressed by Bruce’s prowess and potential, Ra’s offers him a place at his side as his heir, along with the hand of his daughter, Talia al Ghul.

Clouded by ambition and the promise of power, Bruce accepts, and by the time he is 20, he becomes a father to Damian. Bruce and Talia, though deeply involved in the League, raise Damian together. However, unbeknownst to Bruce, Damian is secretly subjected to the League’s brutal training methods.

Years pass, and it is only when Bruce accidentally witnesses a young Damian brutally decapitating an enemy that the full horror of what his son has become strikes him. Horrified, Bruce realizes that the League is no place for his son or himself. In a desperate bid to save Damian from a life of violence and darkness, Bruce fights his way out of the League, taking Damian with him back to Gotham.

Returning to Gotham, Bruce reflects on his actions and the person he has become under the League's influence. Burdened with guilt and a desire for redemption, he decides to channel his skills into becoming the Dark Knight, the Batman, a symbol of justice and atonement for the city that has always been his true home.

Damian Wayne: The First Squire

Damian, torn from the only life he has ever known, is furious at being taken away from the League. He demands to become his father’s squire, determined to prove himself worthy and regain the sense of purpose he once had. Bruce, though wary of Damian's brutal tendencies, sees this as an opportunity to guide his son onto a brighter path, away from the shadow of the League’s influence.

As Damian grows, Bruce tirelessly works to temper his son’s lethal instincts, teaching him the value of mercy and justice over vengeance. However, as Damian approaches adulthood, he begins to struggle with the immense pressure of being the heir to the Batman mantle. Despite his father’s teachings, the weight of expectation becomes overwhelming, and Damian starts to revert to his old, violent ways, hoping that by doing so, he can distance himself from a destiny he feels ill-suited for.

Bruce, recognizing the signs of Damian’s internal conflict, decides to send him to join the Young Justice team, hoping that interacting with peers and learning from others like Black Canary will help Damian find balance. With Black Canary’s guidance, Damian finally opens up to Bruce, revealing his fears and his desire to forge his path. Understanding his son’s plight, Bruce supports him in seeking a new identity, one that reflects who Damian truly is rather than what others expect him to be.

Damian takes on the identity of "Onyx", a precious stone, often associated with protection and absorbing negative energy

By adopting the name Onyx, Damian symbolizes his role as a protector who absorbs and neutralizes the darkness around him, taking something once associated with darkness and turning it into a symbol of strength and defense.

Tim Drake’s Journey: From Obsession to Tragedy

Tim Drake's story begins with an obsession. Fascinated by the mysterious figure of Batman and his squire, Damian Wayne, Tim starts following them around Gotham, trying to learn everything he can about the legendary duo. Damian quickly notices the young boy's persistence but says nothing to Bruce, curious to see how far Tim will go. Damian secretly admires Tim's courage and tenacity, even if he considers it somewhat reckless.

Tim’s persistence eventually pays off when, while attending a high-society gala, he observes Bruce Wayne and Damian closely enough to piece together their secret identities. Empowered by his discovery, Tim becomes even more determined, shadowing them more frequently. One night, during a solo patrol, Damian finds Tim in a dangerous situation. Realizing the gravity of what he has uncovered, Tim blurts out his knowledge of their identities, prompting Damian to drag him back to the Batcave to tend to his injuries.

Bruce, impressed by Tim's intelligence and resourcefulness, reluctantly allows him to assist with investigations. Tim eagerly takes on this role, preferring the intellectual challenge over direct combat. His analytical mind and sharp instincts prove invaluable to Batman and Damian, who continue their nightly crusade against Gotham’s criminal underworld.

However, when Damian decides to strike out on his own as an independent hero in Blüdhaven, Tim's life takes a dark turn. The Joker targets Tim’s parents, brutally murdering them. Devastated and fueled by a desire for vengeance, Tim becomes the second Squire, determined to use his skills to bring his parents' killer to justice.

Despite his best efforts, every investigation into the Joker’s whereabouts turns up empty. Frustration and anger begin to consume Tim, leading him to act more impulsively. When he stumbles upon what seems to be a solid lead on the Joker’s location, he recklessly pursues it on his own, determined to end the clown’s reign of terror. The lead, however, is a trap, and Tim is captured.

Over the following months, the Joker tortures Tim, breaking him both physically and mentally, and eventually warping him into Joker Jr., a twisted reflection of the hero he once aspired to be. When Batman finally confronts the Joker again, he is horrified to discover what has become of Tim. In the ensuing battle, the Joker kills Tim, leaving Batman to mourn another lost Squire. However, Tim's body is never recovered by Bruce.

Unbeknownst to Batman, the League of Assassins finds Tim's broken body and resurrects him using the Lazarus Pit. Ra’s al Ghul, seeing the potential for another brilliant detective in his ranks, manipulates Tim, warping his memories and convincing him that his quest for vengeance is far from over.

Enraged and manipulated into believing that he must destroy the man who failed him, Tim flees the League and returns to Gotham, swearing a bloody vendetta against all criminals, but most of all against Bruce Wayne, whom he blames for his suffering. He takes on the name of the "Wraith", reflecting Tim’s transformation into a shadow of his former self, driven by a need to haunt those he holds responsible for his pain.

Jason Todd’s Journey: From Desperation to Redemption

Jason Todd grew up on the harsh streets of Crime Alley, a place where hope is scarce and survival is a daily struggle. With his father having mysteriously disappeared and his mother dying of an overdose, Jason was left to fend for himself in one of Gotham's most dangerous neighborhoods. The recent rise of crime gangs, fueled by the chaos wrought by Wraith's birth, has turned Park Row into a literal warzone, with violence and despair at every corner.

Desperate for a way out and hoping to make some quick money, Jason decides to steal the tires off the Batmobile when he finds it unattended. However, Batman catches him in the act. In a moment of sheer desperation, Jason pleads with Batman to take him in. He explains his dire situation—his father’s absence, his mother’s death, and the unrelenting violence that has consumed his home. Jason argues that with his deep knowledge of the streets and the gangs that rule them, he could be of real help to the Dark Knight.

Batman, who has been struggling with his own demons since losing his previous squire, sees something in Jason that he can't ignore. Despite his hesitation about involving Jason in his dangerous crusade, Batman reluctantly agrees, allowing Jason to become the new Squire. However, Batman remains cautious, initially keeping Jason away from the frontline battles, focusing instead on training him and using his knowledge of Crime Alley to gather intelligence.

As time goes on, Jason proves to be an invaluable asset. His familiarity with the criminal underworld of Park Row gives Batman a strategic advantage, allowing them to dismantle several gangs and push back against the crime wave that has overtaken the area. Jason's raw talent, combined with Batman's training, quickly turns him into a formidable squire.

No longer the desperate kid from Crime Alley, Jason finds a new sense of purpose and belonging. Jason proves to be a valuable asset not just in the field but also in the world of high society.

He, though initially struggling with the elite environment of Wayne Enterprises, gradually earns respect through his hard work and ingenuity. His background as a former street kid gives him a unique perspective, allowing him to connect with people on a different level. Over time, he makes a name for himself in the business world, becoming a key figure in Bruce Wayne’s efforts to bolster the public image of Wayne Enterprises. Bruce is immensely proud of Jason’s progress, seeing him as a symbol of redemption and success.

Despite this, Bruce’s attention is increasingly divided due to the resurgence and unmasking of Tim Drake. This leaves Bruce more focused on the complexities surrounding Tim, limiting his ability to be a father figure to Jason. While Bruce continues to mentor Jason in his role as a squire, Jason yearns for a more personal connection and sees Bruce as more of a mentor than a father figure.

When Bruce adopts Dick Grayson, Jason steps into the role of an older brother, providing support and guidance. His bond with Dick helps solidify his place in the Wayne family and allows him to channel his own experiences into nurturing the younger boy.

Tragedy strikes when Bruce seemingly dies, disappearing into the time stream. The loss of Batman leaves a void in Gotham and creates uncertainty about who will take up the mantle. Damian and Jason, both deeply affected by Bruce’s disappearance, struggle with their own visions of the future. Jason, who believes that Bruce might still be alive, decides to embark on his own investigation, driven by hope and determination.

As he steps away from the role of the squire to forge his own path, Jason emerges with the identity of Phoenix that reflects his growth and evolution from a troubled past to a dynamic, independent hero.

Dick Grayson’s Journey: From Orphan to Squire

After witnessing the tragic deaths of his parents, young Dick Grayson is taken in by Bruce Wayne, who, along with Damian Wayne and Jason Todd, initially tries to shield him from the truth of their secret identities. Despite their efforts to conceal their true selves, Dick’s perceptiveness reveals their identities, as the injuries and circumstances are too evident to ignore.

Instead of immediately taking Dick on as a squire, Bruce and his team focus on helping him cope with his grief and trauma. They engage Dick in sparring matches and other activities to channel his emotions and provide a sense of normalcy and belonging. Dick, with his resilient spirit and natural charisma, becomes a bright presence in the manor, helping to lift the spirits of everyone around him during a dark period.

When Bruce mysteriously disappears, leaving Gotham in uncertainty, Jason, driven by a belief that Bruce might still be alive, sets out to investigate. Feeling the weight of responsibility on Damian’s shoulders, Dick cannot stand by and watch him bear the burden alone. Determined to help, Dick steps up and becomes the fourth squire, fighting alongside Damian and making the experience more bearable for both of them.

With Bruce’s return, the dynamic within the team shifts. Damian resumes his role as Onyx, and Dick has to adjust to the new arrangements. Although he misses Damian as a mentor, Dick adapts quickly to working with Bruce, continuing to prove himself as a valuable member of the team. His journey from a grieving orphan to a dedicated squire highlights his resilience and ability to thrive amidst change.

[athymelyreply]

A highly recommended read. Full text of article under cut

On October 7, I was not hiding with my child in the safe room. My house was not burnt to the ground, and my husband didn't blow me a last kiss before his killer fired a fatal bullet.

I was safely at home in London where I have lived for over 30 years when my elderly peace-activist parents, Oded and Yocheved Lifschitz, along with 77 others members of the community, were taken hostage, barefoot and in their pajamas from their homes in the kibbutz where I was born and raised.

Israel's hostages in Gaza: A matter of life and death

Israeli peace activists who lost loved ones in the Hamas massacre stand their ground

What we can learn from released Hamas hostage Yocheved Lifshitz

For the past 229 days, together with the families of the other of hostages taken captive which now number 128, we have taken part in the fight for the lives of our loved ones.

A photo of the writer, Sharone Lifschitz's parents, Yocheved and Oded Lifschitz, who were both kidnapped by Hamas to Gaza on October 7. To date, only Yocheved Lifschitz has returned. Credit: Amiram Oren

In Nir Oz, my family's kibbutz, one in four people (117 in total), were either executed or kidnapped. We are still piecing together the events of that brutal day that Hamas terrorists and some Gazan civilians, perpetrated medieval levels of cruelty, driven by hate and revenge, blinded by radical religious ideology and super-charged with amphetamines.

Last month, at the "Seder in the Streets" event in New York, activist Naomi Klein spoke as if none of that ever took place. Instead, addressing hundreds who gathered for a combination Passover Seder and protest of the war in Gaza, she spoke of what she termed the "False Idol of Zionism", comparing Jewish support of it to the Israelites "worshiping" the golden calf and recalling Moses' rage seeing the spectacle.

Klein's interpretation seems to miss the point: Moses, unlike Klein, did not disengage. He did not give up on his people when they worshipped a false idol. Instead, without compromising his integrity and beliefs, he guided them through the desert for forty more years in their journey to become a nation. Klein, at this dangerous moment in history, is failing to lead her listeners to take responsibility, to engage and work towards a shared future in the region for Jews and Palestinians, one built on the preciousness of life on both sides and an understanding of the original intention of Zionism: the necessity for a safe home for the Jewish people.

"Seder in the Street" was also protesting the heartbreaking and ongoing humanitarian crisis in Gaza and settler violence in the West Bank. Many in Israel, like my parents, would agree. Yet their plight and that of the other hostages – most of them civilians, from a baby boy of one year to a man of 86 - are not mentioned at Seder in the Streets or other gatherings of far-left pro-Palestinian Jewish activists.

My father, Oded Lifschitz, who is 83, and his friends who are also hostages, all in their late 70s and 80s, have worked for peace for decades. My mother, Yocheved Lifschitz, was thankfully released after 17 days of captivity.

Yocheved Lifschitz after being released from 17 days in Hamas captivity, in Tel Aviv, Israel in late October. Credit: Tomer Appelbaum

How much more effective these protests could be if activists abroad could act as a bridge between the pro-Palestinian movement and progressives fighting for peace in Israel?

Hamas, a terrorist organization which has been systematically stripping freedom, women's rights and democracy from the Gaza strip since 2006 are also strangely left out of the discussion. In fact, I see more criticism of the Hamas attack and crimes from moderate Palestinian voices than from prominent Jewish voices of the pro-Palestinian movement in the United States and Europe.

Klein is instead content in disengaging from Israel based on a distorted idea of Zionism and in so doing offers no solidarity with the moderate, progressive Jews living in Israel and for whom rejecting Zionism is irrelevant at this moment. Whether we like our government's policies or hate them as many do, Israel is home. Just as Canada is Klein's home, whether or not she likes the policies of the Canadian government or condones its mistreatment of its Indigenous population.

I consider myself pro-Palestinian. My family has always fought for a shared future for our two peoples, understanding this key point: our fates are interlinked. My parents have advocated for peace and equality for and with the Palestinians since the 1960s. We have united as a family to protest policies of the current Israeli government we find abhorrent. I wish for the Palestinians what I want for my own people: to live without bloodshed, in their own democratic state, as part of a negotiated two-state solution.

The facts are indisputable to Zionists and non-Zionists alike: There are about 7 million Jews and 7 million Palestinians living in Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories of the West Bank and Gaza. Jewish Israelis cannot be expected to reject the idea that they can and should have the right to live safely in Israel. Without Israel, where would they go?

Everyone who cares about what's best for the region must strengthen those who are working for a peaceful future. As my father always says, "You make peace with your enemies."

A Palestinian family rides on the back of a donkey-drawn carriage next to damaged buildings in Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, in April.Credit: AFP

Thanks to international efforts to formulate a plan for the "day after" the war in Gaza, we are potentially closer to a long-term political agreement to lift us out of conflict than ever before. To help facilitate it, American and European progressives must distinguish between religious fanatics on both sides and those working toward a path of justice and peace for everyone in the region.

We must differentiate the liberal American pro-Palestinian activists from those who justify Hamas atrocities as acts of resistance. The dominant current narrative of the American far left, including the Jews among them, unwittingly aligns with Iran, and with antidemocratic and illiberal forces.

Instead of fostering hate and promoting disengagement from Israel, progressives abroad should help those in the region regain a sense that another future is possible and advocate for a negotiated political agreement that would create a state of Palestine established alongside the state of Israel. It won't be perfect, but it will be a good start.

The work of advocating for a different, sustainable future, must start with a call for the immediate release of hostages as part of a long-term agreement, backed by America and its allies, including moderate Arab states, that has the potential to transform the lives of Palestinians and Israelis by rescuing them from this ongoing tragedy. To fail to do so is to fail not just the hostages and their families, but to throw all the people of the region further into the abyss and undo the inspiring work of moderate forces within Israeli and Palestinian society.

In this, our darkest hour, we ask ourselves, who is our enemy? My enemy is the blind hate that seeks to erase the humanity of the other side. All of us who are horrified by what is unfolding in Gaza should work toward empowering the people of the region to move away from our common enemy. That's not Zionism, but rather the religious fanaticism we have within both our societies – Israeli and Palestinian – that threatens to engulf us all.

Sometimes, I want to shout at the news on TV, to remind people that their indulgent engagement in hatred of one side is so futile, so self-congratulatory. We can do better.

As we bleed and grieve, and in the case of families like my own – hang suspended between hope and despair for the fate of our loved ones, we must seek points of human connection between Jews and Palestinians, we must fight, not against one another, but for a practical solution that dismantles the status quo so that we can all survive – and live in freedom and security.

Sharone Lifschitz is a London-based filmmaker and academic originally from Kibbutz Nir Oz, whose parents were taken hostage on October 7. On Twitter: @Lifschitz_sha

[astrolocherry]

The Archetypes of Venus in Libra - Dream Girls

The Venus in Libra individual spells a unique magical social charm. She really comes to animate astral form amongst receptive company, and feels substantial before those who are willing to look past the masks and marvellous masquerade of her personas.

Venus in Libra eyes become mirrors that reflect the bouquet rising from the heart of the onlooker. People see their own image of exquisite beauty in her, and often feel uplifted and content as a product of time spent with her. It’s also possible then that people feel subconsciously entitled to her attention, or that she belongs to them. She may even experience some form of obsession or fixation from a former lover, stranger, or close admirer.

Beyonce - Contrast of Feminine (Venus/Libra) with the Masculine (opposite Mars/Aries)  “You don't listen to her. You don't care how it hurts. But you’re just a boy..” Lorde - “Be a part of the love club. Everything will glow for you” Mya - "These streets for affection. I got you. ... What kinda of girl, you like? ... Tell me, am I your type?" Anna Nicole Smith - Dionysian-Venusian. Aphrodite’s Grotto branded ‘ Blonde Bombshell’ on earth Grace Kelly - The Three Graces of Venus. A film actress who later became royalty, penned memoir ‘Born to Be Aphrodite’

Parasol of Prettiness - Dignified, demure delicacy, and innocence. Admired from afar, misunderstood up close. Seemingly incorruptible. White dresses, flowers, lace. Maintains gracefulness and repose despite outside conditions Incurable style and aesthetic taste.

Bonne Belle -  Pure and pretty, amicable however possessing a wilfulness that refuses to submit to unbecoming demands. Charm effect and refined intelligence that is resourceful and often underestimated. While kind and cordial by nature, she will still speak up when witness to a violation or injustice 

Broken Cutie - Engaged, animate, witty, and charming. An altruism, innocence, and sweet sensitivity repeatedly bruised and irreparably damaged by external hands of Fate moving through other people 

“I Have You Now My Pretty” - arouses a sense of urgency to come to her rescue; her plight ultimately becomes a uniting force.

Lady Favour -  Her love interest’s promise and prized possession. Keeping her promise relies on staying alive and returning from battle (Mars).

Cherry

[megala-theia-praxidike]

My Thoughts on Impulsiveness and Carelessness of Sejanus Plinth

There is no doubt Sejanus is smart but he has a big fatal flaw. He is an impulsive, self-destructive teenager who feels so much guilt that sometimes has no regard for those he could possibly hurt with his actions. Sejanus' guilt of being able to live a quality life in the Capitol made him want to compensate by being loud about how he hates being there.

He's compassionate and cares for his fellow districts, yes, but ultimately he feels guilty.

When he failed to connect with Marcus, he wanted, then, to give up or exchange tributes to lessen his guilt (cuz at least it wasn't someone from his district or one he knows).

If Coryo had taken his offer of exchanging tributes, would he have done what it takes to save her? Would he cheat? Ally with other mentors? Kill another tribute? Would he have stomach having appeal to the horrendous sponsors? Would he be willing to give her poison to kill other tributes? Would he create a thesis of new horrendous rules and spectacle that would give her advantage inside the arena like the betting and sponsor system? Or would he not participate at all and leave Lucy Gray to her whims aside from perhaps feeding her before the games?

When he entered the arena, he did not think what would happen to his parents, to his mother, to anyone associated with him. In the Arena, he laments about his father buying his way into power and how they left district 2 and how guilty he is about having to be safe. He didn't think that power, that money, that buying could make changes.

Sejanus wanted to become a medic, he wanted to help, he wanted to end the suffering but he didn't think that ambition takes time and takes more than gut, but also ruthlessness and efficiency. He has to stomach horror and morally grey actions.

Sejanus was careless in 12, he knows the reaping in 12 was rigged He knows Billy Taupe is with the Mayor's daughter who got Lucy Gray reaped. So associating with him is dangerous especially when he wants to break rules and help people in the district.

Sejanus and Coriolanus witnesses what happens to rebels in the district (Arlo Chance) and those associated with them (Lil). He is always with him. Coriolanus witnessed Sejanus drawing maps and out in the open, conspiring with Billy Taupe, the very day he and Lucy Gray reunited, even Barb Azure witnessed and knows what they were doing.

so it wasn't really hidden. Sejanus knows Coriolanus lurks and Coriolanus already knows he is doing some kind of trouble. It's just that Sejanus promised he'd stop for his sake but lying about it made Coriolanus even more paranoid.

Coriolanus is smart as well, thinking of the worst possible outcomes is his biggest hobby, he said so himself in chapter 1 but he is stressed and anxious for a month now. He is paranoid that hecould die by being associated with Sejanus so he snoops into Sejanus' stuff only for his fears to be affirmed.

Sejanus goes with Coriolanus everytime they go to the covey because he is the only one in the peacekeepers who knows Coriolanus and Lucy Gray's relationship. He is always with him and he is conspiring with rebels, Billy Taupe of all people, that could get Coriolanus hanged even if he won't do anything. And even if Coriolanus didn't tattled with the Jabberjay and followed Sejanus to Spruce, Mayfair would still be there and would have tattled or Spruce would have shot her and would have doomed them both.

Sejanus is a compassionate and kind boy who has the potential to be so clever and perhaps even become some one who could have helped aid the rebellion. He may be district and knows their plight but he is also a rich boy who never had to grow up, scraping to survive. He had his father protecting him so he never got to be as afraid for his life and be careful with it the way Lucy Gray and Coriolanus have to. He wants to be the hero, the doer, not dreamer. But it seems like he can't handle or don't know that he had to walk through burning coals to get results.

[madarasgirl]

A Night for Hunting Ch. 13 -Stargazers in Romania

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, sexual harassment, romance, some angst and then fluff, courtship, the 'great outdoors' @alastorhazbin On AO3 Words: 4231

Thank you for your patience while my husband and I went for our LONG-awaited honeymoon! It was everything we needed and more! EXHAUSTED from it and the catching up with life once we got home. Excited to write another ‘dating’ chapter for our favourite comfort vampire! Even he deserves some happiness. Forgive any formatting errors and typos. This chapter was half-written on my phone during our flights and train rides. Partially inspired by the glorious mountain landscapes during hikes on my own honeymoon.

You took your hand from the glass and turned from the pitch black nothingness outside towards your company.

”Did you know, when I said I’d like to see your old homeland one day, I wasn’t asking to be packed onto a plane in the middle of the night again for a vacation to Romania?”

Alucard sat across from you with his legs crossed bearing a face-splitting grin, twirling a glass of wine. You rode together in a luxury SUV, with wide plush seats and a privacy screen separating you from the driver.

Glittering feline eyes roamed your exposed legs and shoulders with an appreciative glint. "Your night clothes suit you well. How would you like to move in with me and be my home chef and meal partner?" The grin got too wide for his face.

You choked on spit with a sputter that sent you into a hacking fit. Bristling with indignity at the chauvinistic comment, you retorted after regaining your wits, "And what kind of 'stay-at-home chef' would I be?" You crossed your arms high over your chest to provide coverage that the lacy nightgown didn't to shield yourself from King 'Leer.' The shameless brute licked his lips as he stared pointedly at your core, hidden behind your crossed legs.

Swine!

He sipped the burgundy drink.

Riling you up was ever the game for the royal arse… although… perhaps you did purchase these clothes hoping to wear them for the vampire one night. Oops...secret's out. You glanced up in horror.

Alucard's eyes were nearly slits with the self-congratulatory smirk as he maintained the lecherous leer.

ARGH! HE REALLY WAS READING YOUR MIND! Why did he have no concept of privacy?! Get out!

He chortled merrily at your plight.

The dog insisted on landing at Bucharest Airport before departing by car to wherever the destination was, but if you had to guess, it’d be somewhere of great sentimental value to him. Why didn’t he simply make some jet pilot take you there directly? Inconveniencing others was well within his usual mode of operation.

You sulked. Would you ever bring this arrogant, irreverent man to heel?

"You would prefer I cradle you while I bring us to our destination at speed instead?” He asked smugly, forcing you to remember the last time he stole you away for a 'date,' and you grit your teeth.

He continued speaking. "This is not a Catholic land, so there was no issue with Integra granting transportation assistance." The legs of the wine trailed sluggishly down the sides of the glass after he took another sip.

What do the Catholics have to do with anything? Denmark was not heavily into Catholicism either, but it wasn't like Alucard's words always needed to make sense. He spoke in riddles, but was correct in assuming you’d rather sit comfortably while you were chauffeured instead of getting tossed around mid-air.

"And you also didn't have to scare my friend off again like that to get me on the plane earlier," you complained, referring to the neighbour who had a crush on you. Alucard was with you in shadow when he appeared and invited you over for a movie. The vampire silently turned to murky sludge and hovered behind you to stare the mortal down from his solidified spectral-state, which you only realized after the man ran away screaming.

"Insolent boy. Your brave young suitor had already forgotten so quickly and required a reminder." His voice was butter, but 'brave' sounded more like he was referring to the guy’s stupid audacity when Alucard spat out the word. “He was fortunate I did not end him.”

You huffed at the needless territorial display as if Alucard was a beast in rut. At least the ‘insolent boy’ was human, and any human relationship would make more sense than what you and the vampire have. Being with Alucard will not be easy. You were stuck on how to present your relationship to the world. Alucard did not expect you to cut your ties to the human world to be with him, so you kept up with visiting with family. He was not someone you should introduce to them (neither had he pushed for this), even if they kept pestering you about who's making you smile. You were different species and thoughts about the future were fraught with obstacles.

The heat in his gaze was different from earlier. The vampire stared unblinkingly, still as a statue. He was far too bold to only steal glances in your direction and it was at times difficult to keep looking at him. That otherworldly gaze was too knowing, his unnatural beauty so striking. You observed the perfect facial symmetry, the angular cut of his jaw and the unblemished skin that was smoother than white marble and just as cold.

Gulping, you looked away first, as always. He was equally stunning in his other forms. You never managed to figure out what Alucard said to you back then. Romanian was such a foreign tongue and the phrases he uttered were so short, they were over before you knew it. You didn't even have the first idea of what words to put through a translator.

He had been silent for the last while, gazing out the window with a wistful expression. You turned your attention to the darkness outside and wondered what he saw. Only the occasional flash of light from buildings raced by to illuminate the scenery, which was also punctuated by periodic street lights. You flipped your gaze back at the soft, forlorn look on his face and frowned.

Then you were passing through a sparsely populated city. Barely even a town by your standards. From time to time, antique structures came into view that were prettily lit, but they were mostly spaced out by homes, open roads, and what you assumed to be countryside. Quaint. You could feel the passage of time as you drove by. 

You took the opportunity to scrutinize Alucard further while he wasn't paying attention. His face was propped up on a fist, dimpling his cheek around the lip like it would with humans. Despite the luminescent crimson eyes and the hint of fangs behind his lips, the resemblance was startling. At first glance, the vampire's appearance really was breathtaking. It was almost enough to make you believe in Lucifer, the most beautiful fallen angel. When coupled with his unsettling demeanour and haunting aura, everything about him was just wrong and it set you off.

You were entering the city proper now, into a residential area littered with small street shops. Bright red roofs adorned pale buildings. The additional light allowed you to see him better.

The longer you spent with him, the more apparent it became that the vampire wasn't wholly terrifying. Neither was he an empty beauty without substance. Time and again, he proved his merits –he was well-read and open to delving into the more modern series that you enjoyed, then held engaging conversations regarding those works. He was interested in your opinions about happenings around the world, whether those were political or not, and partial to discussion, frequently providing well-rounded and thoughtful old man insight.

His charisma was such that you were unable to remain angry with him despite his frequent indecorous words and outrageous actions. Nope, you weren't only interested in Alucard for his good looks, you told yourself.

"Studying me?" His eyes curled with levity as his gaze found yours again. "I was human."

"I know that," you muttered. "You're just… unlike anyone I'd ever imagined myself involved with."

"Hn. There is no one else quite like myself." He returned to his surveillance of his former home.

Again with the ego.

The vehicle made a slight right turn to leave the boulevard behind and a sea of lights flooded your vision. You whirled to see what the source was. History was before you. A series of partially crumbled stone walls lined the path, culminating in a massive tower sitting atop a squat, square base.

“What are those buildings?” You asked with excitement as you twisted in the seat to see the vampire smiling lightly at you.

“You are looking at the old Royal Court and Turnul Chindiei (Sunset Tower),” he stopped, lost in thought.

He lifted a lock of your hair and let his fingers run down its length before he finally kept speaking. You weren’t ready. 

"I was in Somerset recently on an assignment. Little one, I created a new fledgling... a police girl." Vermilion pinned you intently, making you squirm, but nothing hit harder than the shock as the meaning of his words settled in. You gasped.

The mood shifted abruptly.

There was another woman, a virgin whom he drank from. You sat silently with disbelief, at a loss for words, but should you have felt that way? Who did you think you were? As if you were the only one he'd ever have? Or even special? The jealousy that spilled into your mind and tainted your thoughts was instinctive and uncontrollable. Rage at his betrayal battled with unspeakable hurt. Why were you surprised at this confession when your partner was basically a Demon God, who could have anyone he wanted for himself? Tears came to your eyes. It was only mere months ago that he offered you a place by his side, and now he gave it so easily to another?!

"Little human, nothing has changed between us."

LIES. You couldn't even speak as your mind spiralled somewhere darker with your pain. Every cheater made excuses. How could he do this? Why was he telling you this now as he took you somewhere out of the country, where you'd be reliant on him? That was the intent.

Your companion was quiet with the guilt of his admission. No...you brushed away the stray tears that fell with the back of your hand and looked again. He was wearing the face he made whenever he was being affectionate with you. It was so tender.

You didn’t want to look at him anymore.

The tension was thick as the vehicle continued towards your destination without you replying to his previous words. You sobbed and scrubbed away more liquid salt. He gave you space. You let him into your home and fed him! You looked forward to his visits even without him doing those things to you because you enjoyed his company! You hiccuped while thinking back to all that transpired between you.

You were a grown woman and not some freshly pubescent teen. 

Neither did you fall into romantic relationships easily. Despite his many shortcomings, you chose your vampire for a reason and Alucard had not yet given you one to regret your decision. You two were stronger than this.

Why...? You nearly asked him. But as you recalled his behaviour earlier, the answer was right in front of you. You’ve known for a very long time. You thought back to his longing expression as he stared out at the Romanian countryside and how he lost his human life an eternity ago. Alucard was immortal and you did not agree to stay by his side forever. This time it was your turn to see through him. Your ancient vampire was lonely beyond words.

Your chest ached as you snivelled.

"Even now, you weep for me?" He whispered, pulling you into his lap to hold. How was it possible for the pure-hearted like yourself to exist in this disgusting world? To remain untainted despite everything, including being with him.

“What does this mean for us?”

“I have a duty to my fledgling until she matures into a full vampire, but I will continue to visit albeit with less frequency. You are my darling little one and nothing will ever change that, no matter what the future may bring.”

It was impossible to shake the feeling of uncertainty about yourself, but you were the one Alucard came back to for years. You pressed a soft kiss to cool lips and relaxed into your lover's embrace before twining your arms around his torso. Again you accepted him as he was. Vampire and human sat quietly together, providing tranquil comfort to each other in their mutual pain.

“Unless you want to come with me.”

You glanced up through wet eyes at the sudden comment with a confused look.

“Sweet, I meant it, come live with me at Hellsing.”

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

Centuries had passed and though his city had modernized, the land itself was unchanged. Those were the same peaks and cliffs, the same game trails and twists in the river. The landmarks he used in his last life to mark the way remained as they were.

His human was wondering where the two of you were headed as you stumbled after him before bouncing off his back when he came to a stop. He steadied you with a gloved hand. “We will camp here. I will bring you sustenance and you will rest the night.”

“We are only going to be eating and sleeping tonight?” 

“Is there more you would prefer?” The teasing was obvious in his tone.

Extracurricular activities were not what you were insinuating. Of course a vampire would take any opening to veer the conversation towards sex. Seduction was in his nature and this vampire would gladly accept any opportunity to lay between your legs.

As with the first time he abducted you for an overseas date, Alucard had provided clothes appropriate for the autumn weather. You were too glad to cover yourself from his lustful gaze.

“Tomorrow we will make for Poenari. It will not be an easy walk for you.”

You perked up at last and fixed a saucy Cheshire grin his way. “Oh? You’re bringing me to your old castle for a date and you’re letting me hike during the day? You’re almost being romantic and sweet.” 

The vampire was flippant. "Your feeble human eyes cannot see any of the land's splendor in the night." 

Your smirk turned sour. "Gee thanks." 

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

Something was approaching, dragging across the ground with a steady, rhythmic murmur that made the foliage rustle. It sounded similar to… your heart stopped. Could it be a ghoul?! 

You rushed to your feet and tottered backwards as you seeked your vampire’s presence for protection immediately. No twin scarlets were to be seen. You were alone in the middle of nowhere in Romania with barely any moonlight. Nothing except blackness and the symphony of nature after dark for company. 

Alucard?! 

A million thoughts raced through your mind. This mountainous place was inhospitable to a city dweller such as yourself. It was frigid at night. The insects surviving in this weather wanted to gorge themselves on you along with other predators that were certainly present in land this wild. The surroundings were teeming with cliffs and a single misstep could lead to your demise, though there was water all the way down there. If you somehow made it through the night, the sun would likely scorch you too. Hell, even with GPS, you could still find yourself lost at times in London.

But nevermind any of that right now! What if a ghoul was stalking you?! There was no way you’d survive by yourself. 

Alucard?! You threw the thought out there again in panic with a head full of doom. Where was he? You trusted the vampire enough to accompany him to his homeland. How could he abandon you in the woods like this, even if his absence was probably intended to be brief?

“I recall you enjoy venison.” The Shadow King cleared the vegetation hauling a dead deer by a leg. Glowing orbs watched the tension dissipate from your posture. You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of your scary vampire.

When did he leave to hunt a deer? Mere seconds had passed. How quickly could he kill something…

“Did you truly believe I would leave you to be devoured by lesser predators? You are mine.” 

Your lips flapped.

He took a seat and began to butcher the animal, staring into your eyes as he skinned it. Blood pooled under the vampire. You cringed as he flayed it open, then expertly cleaved and dismantled the body into neat quarters –legs and ribs. He let the innards drop from the body cavity into their own pile. A campfire assembled itself. The knife passed through the carcass with practiced hands repeatedly, turning it into proper cuts which he cooked over fire before offering you the best strips. 

You accepted his offerings with thanks, but stayed hyper-aware of the surroundings. You believed yourself unafraid of the dark, but outdoors, everything set you off –the sounds of nature abounded with rustling branches, even the howling wind was more sinister. Your eyes darted around and you peeked behind with worry as he continued grilling your meal. 

Scuttering closer to the vampire, you whispered, "What was that? Did you hear that?" 

"Only animals humping in the undergrowth." His expression was full of amusement as his hands stopped for a moment. "Night is my domain. I will provide for you, little one, so that you may relax and enjoy yourself. I told you before that you are safe when you walk the night with me." 

Licking your lips, you looked at Alucard with wide, worried eyes, even when you knew it to be true. So you stayed in close proximity to your protector. Strange. Normally, you were a feast for nasty critters and mosquitoes once the sun set. Up against him like this, there was nothing. It seemed even the most insignificant lifeforms knew to steer clear of this creature, even more so than with the fire. 

It crackled and dancing shadows flickered through the clearing, the resulting light throwing those regal features into sharp contrast. Fragrant aromas of meat cooking mingled with the sounds of snapping and sizzling. You watched one another eat. The inky pool –blood from the deer– was trailing towards Alucard and disappeared into him. Somehow it was natural to you, even mesmerizingly intimate to watch him drink.

Crack!

You launched into his arms with a terrified squeak as he once again laughed at your jumpiness. You scrambled to sit upright against him, not leaving his side only because you didn’t feel like feeding biting insects anymore. It wasn’t because you needed his proximity in this frightening gloomy forest.

Alucard was warm. He felt most alive when he was with you, almost like a normal person. He tilted your chin and leaned in. “You scaredy cat. I suppose you will have to follow me into the dark,” he noted with a faint grin.

“For this trip only!” you quipped. Picking up a piece of cooked venison, you shoved it between his lips. “Now shush.” Then you settled in on your side next to Alucard with your head on his thigh.

The melody of rushing water far below soothed away your fears and the clarity of the night sky allowed the stars to peer through. A billion pinpricks of light witnessed a pair of Stargazers alone in the world, one red and one white. 

You sighed with contentment as your eyelids grew heavy. Drooping, you caught yourself and tried to ward off the sleep. 

“I am watching. Sleep.” The rumbling baritone left you in a daze.

“But what about you? I’ll be okay…” your head lolled the other way.

Cool fingers took your chin. "I do not require sleep. Much less would I do so at night. Prideful little human, rest." 

The flames licked at the chill air. Warmth and security suffused you as you drifted unconscious on a belly filled with the food your lover prepared, your head cradled by his lap. Your vampire remained by your side the entire night to watch over you.

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

You woke to soft petting massaging your scalp and weaving through your locks.  Lifting your head from its comfortable pillow, bleary eyes found the first signs of dawn on the horizon and you were grateful for some visibility at last. The twinkling stars faded into hiding for the day once again.

After washing up with the water Alucard brought, his palm landed once more on the crown of your head. 

"My little human,” he crooned. 

You looked away shyly and smiled to yourself at his sweet nickname of habit for you, making quick work of tying the scarf around your neck. 

“Come.” He led you uphill through the dark until the row of giant conifers broke apart.

The scent of fresh pine filled your nose and you gasped as the subtle rays of sun revealed the misty splendor below. You two were perched by the edge of a cliff that plunged to unseen depths. Fortunately the heights and narrow ledge did not cower you –there was no way Alucard brought you all the way here only to let you tumble to your death. What took your breath away was the formidable castle ruins below nestled in a blanket of rolling peaks and valleys that were fed by a winding river. Wisps of mist floated by, shrouding tracts of the dramatic slopes in mystery, a living painting of epic proportions. 

Wow. 

“Your country is beautiful, Alucard. It's so magical I almost don't want to hike down and lose this view.”

“Isn't it splendid?” He grinned. Was that pride in his face? He stood there glowing in the ambient light like a seraph, quietly staring out at the ravine before he turned to you with a gleam behind orange lenses. “I suppose daybreak too possesses its own charms much like twilight,” he added. 

You smiled fondly at his words, mentally somersaulting with happiness from this concession, before turning your attention to this banquet for the senses that demanded to be committed to memory.

As the sun climbed the horizon, the veil of mist gradually receded and the shadows were beaten back, casting the land in dreamy golds and pastel beauty. Boundless nature surrounded you from each direction, backlit by pink and orange skies. 

The heavens slowly brightened and the fiery mirage of the spectacular autumn foliage came into sharp focus. A pair of falcons soared the rosy sea above and screamed their shrill cries to each other. You pondered the hike through such extravagance, immediately deciding it would be worth the brutal terrain.

You got as close to the ledge as you dared, as if being mere inches closer would help with absorbing the experience better. Yet how often did a mere mortal get to be this close to divinity? Your eyes sparkled with glee as you unknowingly clutched his sleeve with one hand while you edged over. Alucard sensed your awe as you took in the grandeur of heaven and earth –your parted lips and wide eyes were a testament to your wonder. His gaze skimmed your delicate features, pausing to narrow his eyes as they focused upon your lips, so soft and luscious they begged his attention.

He was aware you were self-conscious when with him in public. Thus you enjoyed his company most when you were alone out in nature together, far from civilization with no one else present to stare at you as a couple. No prying eyes or uninvited whispers. Such trivial matters, but the King preferred for you to savour your time with him, as he with you, without your unwarranted concerns detracting.

You caught him staring. The brazen vampire did not pretend to be doing anything but. He was taken by your curious, trusting expression, your foot right at the rim of the cliff with no more room for folly. Another step and you would fall to your proverbial death. But you came here with Alucard. He was your safety net. You leaned into him and met his lips gently. Cupping his face with both hands, your thumb trailed down that nose which always pokes your cheek as you kiss. He nuzzled you with it and exhaled with a faint rumble. If anyone told you a few years ago that you’d be watching the sunrise at Dracula’s castle with the accursed demon himself, you’d have laughed in their faces.

The remnants of the fabled castle loomed over a narrow ravine, imposing and severe. You studied the buses rolling in from a much higher vantage point. There were many more people than you expected milling about. Probably tourists. They were tiny and distant enough to resemble ants. So distant, they might as well not exist. 

You smiled and curled into a king's embrace with a million subjects at your feet, composed of ancient evergreens and the flaming kaleidoscope of deciduous reds, oranges, and yellows. The breeze rustled the royal mantle that was his duster and it swayed gently. His tresses framed his features with silk as the light of day hit his eyes. 

Everything was perfect whenever this vampire swept you away. Alucard had a way of making it seem as though you were the only ones in the world and it belonged solely to you and him. Your problems were just as far away and non-existent as the people below.

The warmth of the blazing palette inspired a giddy optimism and it blossomed in your gut. What would the future with Alucard bring? You weren't sure either, but you knew as long as you were together, it felt as though nothing could come between you.

~To Be Continued~

Next Chapter: Interlude II

Notes: Yes, Alucard takes her down there and they hike to the castle together with a magnificent autumn backdrop. He shows her around the ruins of his castle and lets drop a few memorable snippets of his old life. The parts of the trip through the past (passing through Targoviste and the castle) are partially for himself and not her. A reminder to himself of how he failed (his perspective) his people. But I didn’t feel up to (or want to) getting into all that and felt this was a good place to end the chapter.

The chapter is my little attempt at symbolism. Alucard is revisiting his old life's transgressions and failures and putting them aside to watch the sunrise with his Reader. He is a creature of the night, but even if he detests the sun and believes himself beyond redemption, the light he found in her was beautiful and he has hope for a new beginning with her as they grow ever closer. And in floral language, red is for romance and white is for innocence. You may cringe now.

Alucard is lonely AF in his immortality and Seras was a spur of the moment turn for him when the opportunity arose during an assignment. He didn’t expect her to refuse his blood to become free of servitude. Reader however, is the one who he truly wants at his side, even if it isn't for eternity. He wants her to come to the decision to turn willingly.

Ahem, what the vampire king finds romantic can be different from a ‘normal’ person, but he wanted to take care of her. That was what I was trying to get across. Yup he sliced and diced a dead animal into pieces while looking into her eyes, telling her she’s his, getting massively bled on, and then slurped up the blood that was soaked into the earth. #LetHimCook (not dropping Sukuna references here, nope!)

[selkiewife]

Hi there, I have a question related to this quote:

"The deserter died bravely," Robb said. He was big and broad and growing every day, with his mother's coloring, the fair skin, red-brown hair, and blue eyes of the Tullys of Riverrun. "He had courage, at the least."

"No," Jon Snow said quietly. "It was not courage. This one was dead of fear. You could see it in his eyes, Stark." Jon's eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see. He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast.”

Bran I, A Game of Thrones

My question is, in contrast to Robb Stark and Jon Snow, what do you think Theon Greyjoy’s assessment of Gared and how he responded to his impending death was? We saw Theon kick Gared’s head when it bounced over to him, but what was his private assessment, as well as his outward response to Ned, Jory Cassel and the other men, in your opinion?

This is a great question! I think that if he allowed himself to think about it, he would have a reaction closer to Jon’s and that is why he doesn’t allow himself to think about it. I think Gared’s plight is too close to home to him. I think that’s also why he laughs and kicks the head away from himself. His instinct is to get the head as far away as possible and to cover his discomfort with laughter- by making light of the situation.

It’s a delicious opening for Theon because we are encouraged to see him as an “ass” as Jon says. But then when we return to that chapter after ACOK, we realize that there is so much complexity going on in that first scene with Theon and his reaction to it. I mean even knowing that, it still seems so wildly disrespectful and inappropriate- yet weirdly, why is it THAT action that is considered so brutal and not Ned executing this poor man to begin with- a man who the readers KNOW is telling the truth. Or! Taking an 8 year old to witness an execution lol. I mean I get it. This is a GREAT introduction to this world and these characters and how harsh things are for them. But still it does make me laugh how Theon kicking the head is what really stands out as inappropriate lol.

When it comes to what he said to the other men afterwards, Bran describes him as “laughing and joking as he rode.” I think he would probably avoid conversation about the execution- diverting any serious discussion by making a joke or changing the subject. It also strikes me that he seems extra jovial… which makes me think he is using the laughter and joking and high spirits to show he is not afraid and to cope with his buried feelings of helplessness and fear. As we hear Dagmer tell him later: “The living should smile, for the dead cannot.” I’ve headcanoned that perhaps that’s one of Dagmer’s classic sayings and that maybe Theon heard him say as a boy. Maybe it’s part of the reason Theon smiles. It’s defiant in a way. With each smile, he shows that he is still alive and can still smile. That they haven’t gotten the best of him yet.

I also kind of love that he’s refusing to be somber about this like the others. He’s almost making a mockery of their solemness. And honestly, good for him.

I did write a fic about Theon and beheadings if you are interested. It does briefly feature Gared’s beheading:

Don't Lose Your Head

Thanks so much for the question, anon, and I’m SO sorry I took so long to answer it!

[greatideas-badwriter]

Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Ch. 33

AN: Sorry that the update is a few days late. I was on a trip with my Mom!

Baron Haruno was uncharacteristically silent until the three Uchiha royals led him into Madara’s personal office and presented him with an urn filled with ashes. His face turned red. It was as though all the manners left his body because he barked, peering into the urn, “How can you be sure this is my son when this is all you have?” 

Itachi responded promptly, an air of professionalism intact, “I assure you that the palace mages were very thorough during the identification process. This is Hihara Haruno.” 

Sasuke accidentally shared a look with his uncle, whose eyes burnt with anger. It wasn’t easy to determine the cause of his ire. It was, however, simple to make the deduction that he didn’t wish to be on the receiving end of it. The second prince had never witnessed Madara’s ruthless personality firsthand, but the stories of him during the war when he and his father were in their early twenties were the thing of legend. It was said that the current king killed nearly a thousand people in a single day, all without using magic. The amount of energy, ability, and anger needed to commit such a feat would be immense. 

“Was it not the same crackpot mages who’ve also spent months unsuccessfully searching for the boy?” Baron Haruno bit. 

Madara’s glare hardened, his aura darkening, “Don’t misinterpret this formality as an act of forgiveness for the terrors with which your son plagued Konoha’s only princess. As far as the royal family is concerned, this world is a far better place with that poor excuse for a human dead.” 

Sasuke couldn’t help but add, poison coating his words as he leered at his father-in-law, “Be grateful you’re receiving this much. If it’d been me to discover him alive, nothing would remain but memories.”

It was as though the prince’s lack of faux-kindness reminded the Haruno man of their last meeting and he became awkward while still visibly irritated. He said nothing more about the remains. 

Clearly, the Uchiha men believed their business to be finished, but Kizashi hesitated before sighing defeatedly, “I must admit I haven’t traveled here just to collect my son’s remains.” He avoided Sasuke’s gaze. Instead, he tried to hold Itachi’s, likely since he was the sole member of the royal family who hadn’t shown his distaste openly. “Will you please have your mages inspect my youngest daughter?” 

Everyone stared at him in disbelief. The Baron quickly continued, sensing his plight was unlikely to be thoroughly investigated, “Since shortly after Sakura’s departure, she’s become unrecognizable. She’s always been a kind-hearted girl, but she suddenly became cold and intelligent beyond her years. I’m concerned something is very wrong.” 

‘It’s likely the one humane being in her life disappearing made her realize what a terrible family to which she’s been born,’ Sasuke thought and badly wanted to say. 

Instead, the king bit, “Who are you to ask a favor of us?” 

“Your Highness, please-” “I’ll allow your family to spend the night since it’s already afternoon, but that is the extent of my hospitality. You’re to leave the palace after breakfast tomorrow.” Even Sasuke was intimidated by Madara’s firm tone. 

With no room to argue, the unwelcome guest excused himself from the office. Itachi shared a look with his younger brother, a clear warning not to press the subject, but the prince couldn’t help it. He knew how much the youngest Haruno daughter meant to his wife. Even if the rest of her family was despicable, the girl had personally done nothing wrong. So, he cautiously said, “Uncle, we should at least have the girl inspected by the palace physicians.” 

The king’s gaze remained cold as he stared down his nephew. He took a moment to ponder before shaking his head, “I forbid it. The Haruno family has received more than enough lenience from us. If I treat someone who has disrespected the crown so kindly, our kingdom’s enemies and supporters alike will view the Uchiha name as spineless.” 

Itachi’s teeth gritted. He obviously wanted to say something but didn’t. Sasuke should’ve taken his lead, but he also didn’t. “The princess holds the girl very dear. Please reconsider.” 

“I’ve made my decision, Nephew. I suggest you accept it,” The king’s voice raised. 

The prince opened his mouth to argue, only for Itachi to interrupt, “Brother, I need to speak with Uncle alone. Can you excuse us?” 

Sasuke begrudgingly left, knowing full well that his brother just didn’t want him to butt heads with the king. When he turns the corner down the hall, headed toward the garden where his wife was likely entertaining her sisters, Kizashi Haruno is waiting. His eyes lit up when they landed on the prince, and he fell into step at his side when Sasuke walked right past with the intent to ignore him. 

“Surely you’ll help me, Son-In-Law! Think of how upset Sakura will be if something happens to her beloved sister!” 

Sasuke froze, the man following suit, before facing him with murderous intent boiling his blood. “How casually you speak to me after I explicitly said I’d kill you if you stood in my presence again.” 

Baron Haruno barely looked affected, standing tall and proud while dropping the doting father-in-law act. “Does Sakura know her husband is someone who’d kill a father simply trying to find help for his daughter?”

The prince couldn’t hold back anymore. He hit the man with all his might. Kizashi stumbled, lifting a hand to his bleeding lip and glaring at the prince, who bent forward slightly to hiss, “Sakura is also your daughter! Where was this protective nature when she was being neglected and mistreated within the walls of your own estate?” In the end, that was the biggest issue Sasuke had with the man: that he’d been a bystander and likely even directly responsible for his wife’s tragic upbringing and lack of self-value. 

“That filth is no child of mine!” As soon as the disgusted words left his mouth, the baron closed his lips with an expression that said he was trying to hide the fact that he hadn’t meant to say that. 

‘Does he mean he doesn’t consider her part of his family? That much is obvious, so why would he feel the need to say it? Unless…..’ Sasuke’s glare darkened, “If you’re not her father, then who is?” 

Finally, Kizashi’s face showed unease, fear even. He straightened his spine and gave a poor attempt at covering up his mishap, “I am her father, biologically. I simply meant that, since my late-wife didn’t birth her, she’s not recognized as an official part of my family.” 

How easily it was to determine his words as false was surprising, considering how cunning and collected he’d always been. Sasuke was suspicious of his swift demeanor adjustment and shoved the older man against the wall, “Tell the truth, or I’ll make good on my promise to end your life here and now.” 

Just as quickly as Baron Haruno had become scared did he seem smug once more. His lips curled into a grin, “Any affection you have for her will cease when you find out. Are you certain you wish to know?” The prince was understandably confused but didn’t back down. If it was about Sakura, he had to know. It could be something life-threatening or maybe it could explain some of the unknowns about her, like the strange healing power she possessed. 

“While it’s true her mother was a performer, the man who sired that thing is the same one who gave you the mark on your shoulder, My Lord.” He said the title with disrespect clearly in his tone.

It was as though the world came to a standstill. Sasuke’s heart seemed to stop before starting again at double the pace to make up for lost time. He stepped back, away from the baron, “...The wizard Orochimaru?” 

“Her mother, unbeknownst to me, was already with child upon coming into my possession. It wasn’t until she gave birth that I realized I wasn’t the father,” Kizashi explained, appearing both unhappy with the facts and gleeful that the prince was so obviously disturbed by the news. “To answer the question you’re bound to ask, why I bothered raising a bastard child, her mother claimed to curse my entire family if I didn’t.” Then, his satisfaction faltered, his eyes falling into a glare, “It was shortly after my youngest’s birth that I tested the witch’s promise. I attempted to drown Sakura, which led to my wife’s death.” 

Sasuke could barely wrap his head around all the new information. ‘Does that mean both of her parents had magical abilities? Depending on when Hana was born, Orochimaru could’ve been nearby, or he could’ve been captured by my family already.’ He wasn’t sure of the youngest Haruno daughter’s age, just that she was younger than sixteen since she’d yet to have a debut into society. 

“So, no, I care not for whether that devil-woman lives or dies. I do care for my actual children, so I’m begging for your help despite my pride.” 

The prince couldn’t figure out what to say or how to speak even if he did somehow manage to form a coherent thought. Instead, he turned and left the pathetic man in the hallway. His pace was quicker than before as he searched for his wife. 

He spotted her sitting on a bench in the garden next to her youngest sister. Her body was angled toward the girl, so he couldn’t see her face. As he approached, his steps faltered when a familiar burning met the scar on his shoulder. His hand clapped over the area as he froze. ‘It hasn’t done this since I gained control over The Curse. Is he trying to take over with sheer force?’ Clearly, the demon wanted to arise, but Sasuke gritted his teeth and refused. To be honest, since obtaining control over his body, he wasn’t sure how much easier or difficult it might be to regain it if he should let Akuma feel the sun. 

“Hello, Prince Sasuke,” a dull voice broke his train of thought and he looked up to see the two women looking his way. Hana had been the one to speak, but he could only look at his wife’s face. 

It was evident something was wrong by her pale skin and panicked expression. The thought of somehow bringing up the topic of her biological parents fell away as he approached her side. Instinctually, he held out a hand for her to hold, and she did, albeit softly and while lowering her gaze. 

‘Whatever it is, she doesn’t want to acknowledge it now.’ 

His eyes looked over her to confirm she had no new injuries before noticing someone was missing, “Where is the other girl?” The one that tried to weasel her way between them. 

“Haruka is across the garden. She and Sakura do not get along, so she angrily stepped away.” Hana answered, her tone just as emotionless as before. Sakura nodded slightly, squeezing his hand. 

Taking the hint, Sasuke knelt, “If you’ll excuse us, I believe the princess has become exhausted.” This time, the pink-haired woman didn’t protest when he picked her up and carried her back into the castle and upstairs toward the room they’d shared last night. That alone was enough to convince him her mood was low. 

As soon as the door was closed behind them, he opened his mouth to tell her what he’d learned of her lineage, only for her to cut him off. Her hand held a fist of his shirt as she tearfully said, “That’s not my sister down there! I don’t know who or what it is, but it’s not her!” 

It took a moment for the man to comprehend her words. He sat her down on the edge of the bed. She must’ve taken his silence as doubt because she shook her head, “I know I sound crazy, but I’m telling the truth, Sasuke.” 

“I believe you,” he quickly responded. And he did. “Baron Haruno offered concerns regarding her, as well. He asked my uncle to have the mages look over her.” 

Relief met Sakura’s face, “Oh, thank goodness. Surely they’ll be able to figure out what’s happening.” 

The man nodded but didn’t know why he didn’t tell her the truth, that the king had forbidden investigation of the matter. He also couldn’t bring himself to tell her that everything she knew about herself was a lie. 

As he wordlessly smoothed out her hair and kissed the top of her head so she couldn’t see the unease upon his face, his eyes closed. Until he’d solved all the mysteries surrounding the Haruno family and her birth, he’d let her focus on healing and the child growing in her stomach. 

[delicrieux]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 | endless drabble series (winter edition)  

pairing—cedric diggory x f!reader summary—a dose of truth with hot chocolate (17) request from @cxarloxe​—Hi can I request a Cedric Diggory x Gryffindor reader where they’re actually the best of friends and she has liked him for years but she lost hope because it’s like he never sees her y’know? so when Cedric starts to pursue Cho, she decided that it’s time for her to move on but when Cedric saw her getting close to someone else he just got really jealous and possessive and confess that he actually like her too, he just doesn't want to ruin their friendship if it doesn’t work out? thanks! word count—814

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open for the winter prompts list 1 & 2 !  

A plight of changing scenery runs by your mind: mid-afternoon snowy scapes and Cedric’s sharp voice echoing like a whip, the tell-tale signs of fury dying pale cheeks rose, the uncomfortable silence in a fire-lit room. You sit wrapped in woven blankets and feet warm in woolen socks, holding a cup of hot chocolate to your face and breathing in slowly, cautiously, acutely aware that he sits on the other side of the room. Cedric’s quiet after today’s ordeal. Thoughtful, perhaps ashamed. 

Winter vacation is unbearable like this. Your modest home, a flat tucked in the nook of London, is too small to hold all of these feelings you can’t make out. The words you wish to say melt on the tip of your tongue. You listen to the fire crackle. In moments, you think he’s about to break his silence, but then he slumps into himself again.

“D’you like it?” You ask, startling him. Your voice is soft and cold-ridden, a rasp between the lungs. You motion to the drink in his hand, “My dad’s recipe.”

“It’s delicious.” 

Silence again.

You wish to know what is wrong - what had happened to upset him so terribly to the point that he had snapped. Cedric’s always been kind, even shy at times, and never overtly displeased or angry, at least, not in the way he had been today. You had known him your whole life and never felt what you do now. In the line of years of your friendship, the atmosphere has never once been so tense, nor has your wit and vocabulary failed you so greatly.

You file through topics, settle on something painful but easily masked with a smile: “How’s Cho?”

He scoffs, sets his mug down, flexes his fingers and stares into his hands unable to look at you, “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” He speaks eventually.

The chocolate is tart and sweet in your mouth, “...Well, you said it, not me. But yes, I do think your actions as of recent have been...”

“Thoughtless?”

“Stupid.”

“Suppose I deserve that.” He mumbles, sinking into your father’s plush armchair. His gaze levels somewhere over your head, “Sorry. For today.”

“Don’t, I like a scandal.” You state, “It’s the whole pizzazz - fireworks and exploding crackers, the pop-and-whiz of cotton candy smoke from Junko’s that, I, well, George and I, stole.” You take a sip, “But it wasn’t quite that today.” You lower your gaze, “I don’t really know what that was.”

He had been staying with your family for the winter holidays, a yearly occurrence that no one found strange. And on the daily trek through London’s ancient architecture and narrow roads, there was a muggle boy you ran into only in summer, when the asphalt was warm and there was chewing gum stuck to the sole of your shoe. He had said hello and moved for a hug, and you had returned with the enthusiasm of someone trying to move on. 

Cedric liked Cho, after all, and there was no need for you to stick around and squeeze your heart sore. 

There were harsh words exchanged, then, displeased glances and a coldness you have never felt directed your way from the one that mattered most. The summer boy stumbled back, flustered, and with “’S nothing, man, cheers.” rushed away quickly. A thin layer of snow covered the pavement. Only his tracks were left.

“Sorry,” He mutters, “not sure, either. He a friend of yours?”

You shrug, “I guess.”

“He looked...nice.”

Your eyes narrow, “Merlin’s beard, Cedric, just spit it out already.”

He frowns, “I can’t.”

“Why?”

He’s incredibly torn for someone so young. You dare not linger on his face, afraid to recognize that feeling, afraid to misread it. 

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can you show me, then?”

“You’ll hate me.”

“There’s nothing you could do for me to hate you.”

He seems to be in a fight with himself, one he eventually forfeits and stands. His pretty features are dyed in the ember light. Cedric approaches slowly, and your breath suddenly rings so loud. You set your cup down on the table with quivering hands.

He sits down beside you, taut and awkward, and he’s nothing like he’s in school - charming and talkative. He seems a tad lost, and you watch him anxiously, ready for...what, exactly?

“You...You won’t hate me?” He asks again, finding your gaze, locking it there. Your heart thuds in your chest and you slowly shake your head. He’s beautiful, your mind sounds suddenly struck by the thought, consumed by it. Your mouth goes dry. He nods.

“Then...Then...” He breeches the distance between the two of you, his lips landing on your in a warm, sweet kiss. He tastes like hot chocolate and your head spins.

He pulls back slightly, his warm breath fanning your lips, “Sorry, then, sorry, but I really--I really like you.”

hope u liked it ! <3 for 2023, tpwk ✧･ﾟ:

[kurakurakura99]

Thinking about Changeling:The Lost and how the concept of the Fetch as allegory is kinda genius to a trans/nonbinary reading. The fetch is a facsimile left in the place of victims, spirited away and changed by the true Fae. It is impossible for most people to ever tell the difference:one could go their entire lives without suspecting that your family member has been replaced, but the fetch is different:it is static, resistant to change. the fetch of a child will grow up like you'd expect it to, and grow old as its expected to, as well, and nothing more:it follows the path that blends it in. Does things that those around them would look at go, "oh, they would do that. That is so like them." Consider the plight of a trans person snatched away before they came out, or their egg cracked. It stands to reason that their fetch would NEVER transition:Their family expects their boy to grow into a young man. A deviation from that pattern draws the wrong kind of attention. And when that person comes back, changed by their time in Arcadia, they might behold the Fetch living in their shoes: The imagery of Her family enjoying a holiday dinner with Him springs to my mind. And whats worse is that the family probably likes the fetch better. fathers and mothers pass the gravy to their perfect son when in another life, without the intervention of the kindly ones, they would have ran their true child from the family home when they came out. The same true child that watches from a window now as they share their hearth with an invader, a body snatcher of sorts. Thats gotta sting. I know how much it stings because my family forced me back into the closet multiple times:They simply ignored my confession that I didn't fit in the neat category of "boy" that had been lovingly prepared for me. They told me I wasn't transgender and that was that to them, or they just outright forgot after a while. I have been both the fetch and the changeling at the same time in this scenario. The question is, what does the changeling do now? does she simply vanish in the night like I did, leaving the past life to be content with its fake memory of her, or does she burst through the window and take that fake memory, cave in the loathsome imposters skull until he collapses into twig and twine and leaves, ripping that happiness and baring cruel, unbelievable reality like tusks at everyone witnessing the event? Does she meet her false self in secret, and try to work with it, understand it? That reminds me of half-measures I've seen taken by friends. Call me by my deadname around my dad. Please. I think the most horrifying outcome from a trans perspective is that of replacing the fetch:doing away with it in secret and concealing the truth about yourself to slip into your old life. But that life no longer belongs to you: His flat chest and blunt teeth are antithetical to who you really are, now. Your claws and yellowed eyes and femininity are going to scratch under that false skin forever, until you take it off. Maybe you'll do it in secret, letting your horns breath in nightclubs and venues and forest paths far from the eyes of the people who knew the false you (in both senses of the term) or maybe you'll stuff your true nature away as far and deep as you can, even if it destroys you. Change is deeply, deeply terrifying after all.

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

Finished reading Sanderson Secret Project 4! Thoughts below the cut (mostly copied from me messaging my friends on Discord)

the vibes are so scifi. Like it's still Breaths and Shardblades but he's being so science about it

Spren in Stormlight: magical girl fairy companions. Spren in this: AI companion built into your scifi augments

Ooh, Nomad's been to Ashyn? That's the only planet with floating cities near Roshar, iirc

I love that Rosharans always specify shade when they mention eye color. She doesn't just have green eyes she has light green eyes. That adjective is important

Man on the run for his life hasn't slept in a week no way out keeps getting distracted by the urge to do anthropology

Another thing that's very funny is Nomad is talking about how unbelievably low on Investiture he is and it's still, like, unfathomably wealthy by Nalthis standards

Actually I'm gonna look this up. Nomad has 1500 BEUs in chapter one. He had at least 18750 shortly before that.

In Warbreaker, Vasher starts off with around 50 Breaths, which he considers low while acknowledging that many people would not. Most Returned have the equivalent of 2000. This is enough to be worshiped as gods.

Ah okay looking at the coppermind for the Heightenings this makes sense. It's all very consistent

Fifth Heightening: 2000 Breaths: fast healing, high durability, casual magic Ninth Heightening: 20000 Breaths: oh, you know ;) Tenth Heightening: 50000 Breaths: now that's just excessive

Now I will exit the coppermind before I have another "let me just check Rayse's species midway through reading RoW" moment [Fun fact: vital status is listed right next to species!]

I'm sorry did this man break his radiant oaths and then Mayalaran his shardblade back to pseudo life? Is that what's happening here?

Chapter 6 "No. Even in my head I will not admit Rock is right about the airsick lowlander thing"

I thought part of that phrase sounded like Nazh's name!

Gonna be honest, given how very dead He is, I somehow doubt that Adonalsium will remember their plight eventually

Love that "one of them is secretly a dragon" is a legitimate possibility

Huh. I wonder if they're Ghostblood Scadrians, Harmony-sent Scadrians, or just random people

Chapter 9: "Walking into a storm wasn't something usually done on [Roshar]" Unless you're in the middle of dinner and you really need a knife, of course.

I really wonder how confusing it would be to read ssp4 without reading Stormlight Archive

Oh boy. Wit's here!

Like if you only read the secret projects as if they were a standalone series how long would it take to realize that the cabin boy, the coatrack, and the hologram are the same person

"back before God died" You mean before you and your friends killed God? It didn't just happen there was a whole 17 person conspiracy

Hoid has two modes: "I am a silly little man" and "I am older than your planet and I will weep as I allow it to burn". No in between

"Adonalsium will remember our plight eventually" Man who just got off a skype call with one of the people who murdered Adonalsium ten thousand years ago:...

"Can you fly?" "Who told you I used to- oh you mean fly a ship. Yeah probably."

"The Chorus tells of our old world..." "Yes, yes, the forests of Hell, we've all been there"

The implication that there's a thriving interplanetary job market for specifically bronze Mistings...

If there's one thing that I've learned from Homestuck, it's to never turn your back on the body

Every new hint about what went down on Roshar in the back half of Stormlight just increases my fear about what's going to go down in the back half of Stormlight,

"I was destined to unite all of my people" Man who used to work for Dalinar Kholin: l, and I cannot stress this enough, ol

"Your planet shouldn't have different countries. You should have conquered and unified it all" Sir I cannot stress enough how Big Roshar is. They can barely keep the Alethi Princedoms unified there are so many more people on Roshar than here and they are so much more spread out

Now I'm just picturing that Ron Swanson meme. "I laugh at who I want - Wit"

It feels appropriate that this guy's ancestors are from the planet most closely associated with Ambition

It also feels appropriate that Mercy was there, tbh

Love that this guy is not a particularly soldier-y guy by Rosharan standards, but he's got so much soldier energy in comparison to Canticle that no one has yet noticed that he physically can't hurt anyone

Love that they talk about actual rocket science but it's interspersed with phrases like "raw investiture" and "zephyr aether" and "why take all the effort to travel the void of space when you can just walk through another dimension to travel between planets?"

Yes, yes, the plot to kill God, we've all heard of it

Khriss's Second Law :D

I'm really wondering how newbie friendly this book is. Like, they're explaining everything, but they're also throwing a lot of terms around and all of them are things I already know. For me, who read Warbreaker, when he mentions Commands as a thing on Nalthis that's just a refresher. If that's all the context I have...

The fact that this book includes both hoverbikes and a room full of angry ghosts in the same town

Oh that is a very different perspective on the whole lighteyes/darkeyes thing

Ah. Hemolurgy. From Threnodites. He's right, the cosmere is an increasingly small place

Highspren????

What did he even swear to?

I mean "Auxiliary" isn't a very Honorspren name and obviously not all of Bridge Four are Windrunners but Most Of Them Are

262 "You threw out your conscience years ago, I know, though I never had a chance to meet her" Seriously what is going to go down in the back half of Stormlight

Roshar Man: yeah you can totally go into the murder storm my friend Kal does it all the time lmao

They're called Skybreakers because they break you. Storms yeah Bridge Four!

Yessss He did the thing! I was hoping he'd do the salute!

Oh, that's who Zellion is

Hoid, Zahel, etc: I'm changing my name just for fun. Just for the vibes. New planet new me :) Also same planet new me :) Aliases are so fun :) Elegy: I'm literally not the same person anymore but I am keeping the name because it fits me really well. Dead me can change her name idc

Yeah something really bad goes down in the back half of Stormlight. They should not be that surprised to see a Rosharan.

Awakened Steelmind? This tech is so fun

"I like to think that this is all part of God's plan. That He made before He died :)" -- Tootsie Noodles, Starship (2011)

"God had nothing to do with it it was all Auxiliary." "And what's Auxiliary?" [Zellion remembers that spren are fragments of Honor and Cultivation, who are/were themselves Shards of Adonalsium] "..."

"Sigzil was a capable fighter, but far from the Order's best" -- Rhythm of War chapter 6

I'm done btw

Also I didn't talk about her much but I love how down for murder Elegy is. She loves her sister and she's learning all about different kinds of strength but she was so happy when she had that shardblade

Also, speaking of Stormlight, didn't love Nomad mentioning that glowing red eyes remind him of his friends! Hope he just meant Renarin and Rlain but I'm worried he didn't!

In retrospect it makes perfect sense that they already know about the Shattering. They fled Threnody, which is only Like That because of the Odium/Ambition/Mercy fight that killed Uli Da and Splintered Ambition. Those three only existed as Shards because they had already killed Adonalsium.

Also I hadn't realized or had forgotten that Shades are a "being from Threnody" thing, rather than a "dying on Threnody" thing

Fascinating that Auxiliary's corpse can still change forms even when his consciousness is completely gone. That implies that Maya and the others did something on purpose to lock themselves into sword form, rather than it being a direct consequence of the spen dying.

Also don't think I didn't notice Sanderson deliberately dancing around exactly what Sigzil's oaths were. He was Fourth Ideal in two different Orders and everything past Second is personalized

Of course the Scadrians don't interfere except to ruin things. That's so Scadrial

Love Nomad repeatedly going "Okay... I'm Azish, though." Man isn't Thaylen or Alethi it's a completely different culture that happens to share a planet. The Cinder King has no concept of this. The Greater Good doesn't even understand the difference between Roshar and Scadrial

I was laughing at the Cinder King for thinking that you could just conquer all of Roshar (it's so big), and then I remembered the Voidbringer reveal in... I think Words of Radiance? And just started laughing harder. They literally did conquer the entire planet, other than the Shattered Plains and a few other remote areas. That canonically happened

Adonalsium is literally mentioned more in ssp4 than all the other Cosmere books combined lol

[zapreportsblog]

↱ my mother : the successful business woman ↰

➘ summary : In this story we see how Izuku grows up in the hands of a successful business women, watch as his mother becomes his hero, the hardships they face as a family and how Izuku gains new friends and siblings to come

➘ a/n: story can be found on my quotev blog

➘ Chapter 1: A Guardian Angel

T H E   I N T R O D U C T I O N : 

In a bustling city filled with skyscrapers and endless possibilities, a young boy named Izuku found himself living a life he could never have imagined. The city's heartbeat pulsed through the streets, and amidst the chaos, a sanctuary of love and compassion awaited him.

Izuku Midoriya was no ordinary child; he possessed dreams of becoming a hero, despite being born without a quirk. His determination to follow in the footsteps of his idol, All Might, was unwavering. But fate had more in store for him than he could ever have imagined.

It all began on a fateful day when tragedy struck. A villainous attack shook the city to its core, leaving destruction and heartache in its wake. Izuku's mother, Inko Midoriya, was a victim of the senseless violence, leaving her young son with a heavy burden of grief.

As the tears flowed and the world felt like a dark and desolate place, a beacon of hope emerged. A woman named (y/n), a successful businesswoman with her own company and immense wealth, was touched by the news of Izuku's plight. Despite her busy schedule and her demanding career, she had a heart that knew no bounds.

"(Y/n)" was no ordinary individual; she possessed a compassionate spirit that drove her to help those in need. She had witnessed firsthand the impact a tragedy could have on a child's life, and she was determined to make a difference in Izuku's life.

Upon learning about Inko's passing, (y/n) took decisive action, offering her support and assistance to Izuku. With her heart of gold, she made it her mission to adopt the grieving boy and provide him with a loving home. Though their backgrounds were worlds apart, their hearts were intertwined by an unbreakable bond.

Izuku moved into (y/n)'s luxurious penthouse, which overlooked the city like a kingdom of dreams. Despite her immense wealth and the countless opportunities at her disposal, (y/n) never let her success cloud her judgment or sense of responsibility. She understood the importance of humility and the need to give back to society.

From the very beginning, (y/n) showed Izuku the warmth of a mother's love. She encouraged his dreams of becoming a hero, never once doubting his potential. Izuku found solace in her presence, and for the first time in his life, he began to believe that he could achieve greatness.

As time passed, Izuku settled into his new life, surrounded by the finest comforts money could buy. However, it wasn't the material possessions that filled his heart; it was the love and care he received from (y/n) that mattered the most. She took the time to listen to his dreams, offering guidance and support as he navigated the world of heroism.

"(Y/n)" became not only Izuku's guardian but also his mentor, imparting valuable life lessons along the way. She taught him the importance of empathy, kindness, and giving back to those less fortunate. Despite her busy schedule, she always made time for him, attending his school events, cheering him on at his hero training, and being there for him through every triumph and setback.

In a way, Izuku saw (y/n) as his guardian angel, a guiding light that had entered his life during its darkest hour. He couldn't help but feel grateful and blessed to have her as his second mother.

As fate would have it, Inko had left behind a will, entrusting (y/n) with the guardianship of her beloved son. (Y/n) honored Inko's wish with unwavering devotion, pouring her heart and soul into ensuring Izuku's well-being and happiness.

Together, they formed an unbreakable family, forged not by blood but by love and the shared desire to make a difference in the world. Izuku knew that he was blessed to have (y/n) in his life, and as he looked to the future with newfound hope, he vowed to become a hero not only for himself but to honor the legacy of his birth mother and the guardian angel who had become his true savior.

[starburstfloat]

Opening Sequence Lyrics Analysis

I recently spiraled anew revisiting TXT's discography like an analytical madman (a real treat!), and wanted to spew my thoughts on minisode 2: Thursday's child into the void of tumblr because nothing brings me greater joy than deconstructing naive self-destructive protagonists who place themselves into a pit of despair. If that sounds like something you want to indulge in too then hey hey welcome for the ride!

When revisiting minisode 2, it was impossible to ignore the genius that is the first track, Opening Sequence, and so I'm dedicating an entire analysis post to just this song.

One of the reasons that Opening Sequence is phenomenal is because it establishes the tone for the rest of the album and sets the stage for the following songs (you could think of it, like I do, as a powerful opening chapter for a book).

The main reason why I am so impressed with this track is that we get to witness our narrator shift from a point of mere sorrow and despair to full on disillusionment and resentment. Classic unreliable narrator and a chef's kiss to deconstruct.

I've already talked extensively about unreliable narrators in past analysis posts but if you don't know, unreliable narrators provide a perspective to the story that isn't wholly accurate. This isn't necessarily an advertent choice. Perhaps the narrator does indeed think that they are telling a story truthfully, but often their anger, sorrow, or heightened emotional state reveals cracks in the narrative. Something is missing, and it's usually honesty.

What's really creative with Opening Sequence is the narrative structure of the song that highlights just how disillusioned our protagonist grows to become (txt villain era woot woot).

Let's break it down!

At the beginning, Soobin talks about a breakup and how he is caught up in that painful moment. He is looping this moment in his head like a never-ending sequence:

These opening lines are critical in establishing our protagonist's mindset. We see someone who is grappling with change, and with a heavy heart at that.

A scene like this typically evokes empathy, and indeed on first and second listen you do genuinely feel sad about his pain.

The narrator goes from cycling through the pain of his breakup to then entering the first chorus with a repetitive cry begging for a second chance:

It is here that the audience recognizes the first signs that this narrator may not be a reliable lens to see the story because he's a little unstable.

How can we tell? The repetition here is the giveaway.

Repetition is a rhetorical technique that acts as a hyperbolic device to accentuate feelings. He could have just said all of that one time, but saying painfully and stay for me several times adds an emphasis and undeniably centers the audience on the emotions captured in each line. In this case, we recognize a pleading tone - a boy facing rejection and attempting to negotiate.

It's hard to trust characters whose account of events are so intricately tied to their self esteem and self worth. Does he really want a second chance? Or is this now something personal that he needs to vent to an audience, unaware of how self pitying he actually looks?

As the song continues, we witness the narrator slowly losing his composure. Soobin's line in the chorus hints at this tonal shift:

You in the faded film, your gaze that erased me

Here he frames the ex-lover as the reason for his plight: you are the one who erased me . Moments before he was begging for another chance. It's classic manipulative ex material: projecting sadness and weakness into bitterness and resentment - anywhere to place the blame than acknowledging the reality and finality of the breakup.

The second half of the song carries over with the tonal shift when Beomgyu asks:

Why'd you laugh?

His voice is more assertive now, hurt and scathing. It's also at this point that we notice our protagonist is becoming more scattered and less focused. He mentions a calendar that's taking a step backwards and that it's "driving me crazy". Even our narrator recognizes he's sort of spiraling and yet he feels he cannot stop it. If this wasn't enough, we see Soobin contriving a narrative that his ex deceived him:

He's trying to make sense of his pain but in doing so he's simply creating a story that alludes to his ex-lover being at blame.

The song reaches an absolute highlight during Taehyun's bridge:

The transformation from hurt to disillusioned is complete here. Taehyun goes from being in pain to fully evolving that pain into anger and resentment and reaching an epiphany: fine, if you want me to be the bad guy in this situation, I'll be your bad guy. If it weren't clear enough just from the vocals, he emphasizes this point even more by repetitively saying blame on me.

We know he doesn't actually think he's done anything wrong. It's all rather caustic and bitter.

And the chef's kiss? The choreography here. Right as Taehyun starts to break out of his despair, the members collapse on the floor around him, scattering lifeless before curling in on themselves, seemingly in pain.

As Taehyun finishes his part, they lift themselves up like from the grave, reborn into a new persona. Might I add that even Yeonjun's closing "oh yeah" has a devious ring to it.

Our narrator has accepted his fate, that he cannot get his ex lover back, but he can destroy the previous version of himself to escape from reality a little longer. Sound familiar? Oh yeah, guess what the next track on the album is: Good Boy Gone Bad.

Do y'all see how insanely clever this narrative setup is? It flows with such ease throughout the album. And that was literally just me rambling about ONE SONG!! THERE'S SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT HERE IT DRIVES ME CRAZY anyway I hope any of this made sense and I'd appreciate any insights you all have from this album or this song!

[clariannahoney]

Shattered Bonds: A Second Chance at Redemption | Chapter 2: The Manipulation Begins

Synopsis: Hwang Y/N, a bright and compassionate 12th grader, is consumed by the toxic social circle of her high school. When her best friend, Jeong Seonhwa, manipulates Y/N into betraying her friend Moon Yana, the consequences are devastating. Y/N's subsequent fall from the rooftop, pleading for help, shatters the lives of those around her. Given a second chance, Y/N rewrites her story, seeking vengeance against those who wronged her. Alongside Choi San, the boy at the center of the clique's manipulations, Y/N uncovers the dark secrets of her former friends. As they confront the truth, they must confront their own fears and insecurities. Will Y/N find redemption, or will the weight of the past drag her back into the abyss?

Choi San stood in the courtyard, his gaze fixed on the figure of Hwang Y/N as she made her way through the throngs of students. The once-vibrant girl now moved with a defeated posture, her shoulders hunched and her eyes downcast, a stark contrast to the confident, compassionate friend he had once observed from afar.

As an introverted outsider himself, Choi San had always been a silent observer of the social dynamics at Evergreen High. He had witnessed the ebb and flow of the clique's power struggles, the way they wielded their influence like a weapon, crushing those who dared to challenge the status quo. But something about Y/N's plight struck a chord deep within him, stirring a sense of empathy that he had long buried beneath his own insecurities.

Choi San watched as Y/N's former friends, Jeong Seonhwa and Moon Yana, passed her by without so much as a glance. The once-inseparable trio had been torn asunder, and he could see the pain etched into every line of Y/N's face. The relentless cyberbullying campaign, the whispered taunts, the utter disregard for her well-being – it was a familiar story, one that Choi San had lived through himself.

Memories of his own past torment resurfaced, the sting of isolation and the crushing weight of loneliness threatening to overwhelm him. But this time, he found himself unable to simply look away, to retreat into the safety of his own solitude. Something about Y/N's quiet resilience, the way she carried herself with a fragile dignity even in the face of such cruelty, stirred a desire within him to reach out, to offer a glimmer of understanding in the darkness.

Choi San took a deep breath, steeling himself against the fear that threatened to paralyze him. He knew all too well the consequences of speaking up, the risk of becoming a target himself. But as he watched Y/N disappear into the crowd, his resolve hardened. He could not stand idly by and witness another soul suffer the same fate he had endured.

Summoning his courage, Choi San made his way towards Y/N, his steps tentative yet determined. He knew that his intervention could have dire consequences, but the weight of his own past experiences had taught him the value of empathy and the power of a single act of kindness to make all the difference.

As he approached Y/N, Choi San's heart pounded in his chest, but he refused to let his fear consume him. This was his chance to make a difference, to be the ally he had so desperately craved in his own darkest moments. With a steadying breath, he reached out, his voice soft yet unwavering.

"Hwang Y/N, I... I've noticed what's been happening. I know it's not my place, but I can't just stand by and watch this anymore."

Y/N's head snapped up, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and wariness. Choi San could see the vulnerability and the faint glimmer of hope that flickered in her gaze, and in that moment, he knew that his decision to reach out had been the right one., Jeong Seonhwa watched from the sidelines, a self-satisfied smile playing on her lips as she observed the unfolding drama. Her carefully orchestrated plan was bearing fruit, and she reveled in the knowledge that she held the power to dictate the fate of her former friend, Hwang Y/N.

With a calculated grace, Seonhwa sidled up to Moon Yana, her voice dripping with false concern. "Yana, darling, I'm so worried about Y/N. She's been acting so strangely lately, don't you think? I'm starting to wonder if she's even fit to be part of our group."

Yana's brow furrowed, her gaze flickering towards Y/N's retreating form. "What do you mean, Seonhwa? Y/N is our friend. I don't understand why you're saying this."

Seonhwa placed a delicate hand on Yana's arm, her eyes widening with feigned sincerity. "I just want what's best for all of us, Yana. You know how important our group is, and Y/N... well, she just doesn't seem to share our values anymore. I'm worried she's becoming a liability."

Yana's lips parted, a protest on the tip of her tongue, but Seonhwa pressed on, her words laced with subtle venom. "Think about it, Yana. How long has it been since Y/N truly fit in with us? She's always been a little... different, don't you think? And now, with her sudden friendship with Choi San, I can't help but wonder if she's even loyal to us anymore."

The queen bee's expression darkened, her insecurities bubbling to the surface. Seonhwa knew exactly which buttons to push, exploiting Yana's deep-seated fear of losing her social standing and the adoration of her peers.

"You're right, Seonhwa," Yana murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Y/N has been acting strange lately. Maybe... maybe it's time we reevaluate her place in our group."

Seonhwa's lips curled into a triumphant smile, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. She had successfully sown the seeds of doubt in Yana's mind, setting the stage for the next phase of her sinister plan. As Yana's loyalty to Y/N began to crumble, Seonhwa knew that the once-inseparable trio was on the verge of unraveling, leaving her firmly in control of the social hierarchy she so desperately craved., Hwang Y/N trudged through the hallways, her once-vibrant spirit dimmed by the weight of the betrayal she had endured. The sudden loss of her closest friends, Yana and Seonhwa, had left her feeling adrift, a mere shadow of the girl she had once been.

Retreating into herself, Y/N found solace in the familiar comfort of her studies, immersing herself in the pages of her textbooks as a means of escaping the painful reality that surrounded her. The classroom, once a place of lively discussion and camaraderie, had become a sanctuary, a haven where she could momentarily forget the cruel taunts and hurtful posts that had consumed her life.

But even as Y/N poured her heart and soul into her schoolwork, the relentless cyberbullying campaign waged against her refused to relent. The clique's website, a virtual minefield of malicious lies and vicious rumors, had become a constant source of torment, chipping away at her already fragile sense of self-worth.

Each time Y/N logged on, her stomach would twist with dread, her eyes scanning the hateful comments and photoshopped images that sought to systematically tear her down. The cruel words, the blatant disregard for her feelings, and the complete lack of empathy from her former friends – it all weighed heavily on her, a constant reminder of the betrayal she had endured.

Tears threatened to spill from Y/N's eyes as she sat alone in her room, the glow of her laptop screen casting an eerie pallor on her face. The relentless cyberbullying had taken a devastating toll, chipping away at her resilience and leaving her feeling utterly isolated and vulnerable.

In the quiet moments, Y/N would find herself questioning everything – her worth, her place in the social hierarchy, and the very foundations of the friendships she had once cherished. The vibrant, compassionate girl she had been had been reduced to a mere shadow of herself, her bright spirit dimmed by the cruelty that had consumed her life.

As the days wore on, Y/N's retreat into her studies became a desperate attempt to cling to the last vestiges of her identity, a futile effort to escape the painful reality that had become her existence. But the taunts and the hurtful posts continued to haunt her, a constant reminder that the world she had once known had been irrevocably shattered., Choi San's heart raced as he approached Hwang Y/N, his palms sweaty and his mouth suddenly dry. He had taken a leap of faith, driven by a sense of empathy that he had long suppressed, and now he found himself face-to-face with the girl whose plight had so deeply resonated with him.

Y/N's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and wariness as Choi San spoke, his voice soft and tentative. "Hwang Y/N, I... I've noticed what's been happening. I know it's not my place, but I can't just stand by and watch this anymore."

For a moment, Y/N remained silent, her gaze searching Choi San's face for any hint of deception or ulterior motive. She had grown accustomed to the cold indifference of her former friends, the cruel taunts and the complete disregard for her well-being. The idea that someone, a relative stranger, would reach out to her in this moment of isolation was almost unfathomable.

But as Choi San's words sank in, Y/N felt a glimmer of hope begin to flicker within her. There was a sincerity in his expression, a genuine concern that she had not witnessed from anyone else in recent weeks. Tentatively, she allowed her guard to lower, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Why? Why are you doing this? After everything that's happened, I don't understand..."

Choi San's brow furrowed, his eyes reflecting a deep empathy that resonated with Y/N's own experiences. "Because I know what it's like to feel alone. And I've seen the way they treat you. You don't deserve that."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words hitting her with unexpected force. In that moment, she saw a kindred spirit in Choi San, a fellow outsider who had weathered the storms of social isolation and the cruelty of those who wielded power over them.

As they stood there, the distance between them slowly closing, Y/N felt a connection begin to form – a bond built on a shared understanding of the pain and vulnerability that came with being an outcast in the toxic social hierarchy of Evergreen High.

Choi San's gaze held hers, his expression unwavering. "I'm willing to take that risk. You're not going through this alone, Y/N."

The words struck a chord deep within her, and Y/N felt the first glimmer of hope ignite in her heart. In the face of the betrayal and isolation she had endured, the realization that she had an unexpected ally in Choi San was a lifeline, a reminder that she was not as alone as she had believed.

As they continued to share their stories, a tentative trust began to blossom between them, forged in the crucible of their shared experiences. Y/N found herself opening up, her walls slowly crumbling as she recognized the sincerity in Choi San's words and actions.

In that moment, the foundations of an unexpected alliance were laid, one that would soon become the catalyst for a quest to expose the truth and reclaim the agency that had been so cruelly stripped away., Jeong Seonhwa's eyes narrowed as she observed the tentative exchange between Hwang Y/N and Choi San, her carefully constructed facade of concern and empathy slipping to reveal the underlying malice that simmered beneath the surface.

The sight of the two outsiders forming an unexpected bond threatened to unravel the very foundation of Seonhwa's sinister plan, and she knew she could not allow such a development to take root. With a calculated grace, she swept through the crowded hallway, her presence commanding the attention of the clique that had become her loyal following.

Yana, darling, Seonhwa purred, her voice dripping with false concern. Have you noticed how close Y/N and Choi San have been lately? It's starting to worry me.

Yana's brow furrowed, her gaze flickering towards the pair as they continued their hushed conversation. What do you mean, Seonhwa? I thought Y/N was just trying to make new friends.

Seonhwa placed a delicate hand on Yana's arm, her eyes widening with feigned sincerity. That's just it, Yana. I'm not sure their friendship is as innocent as it seems. You know how important our group is, and I can't help but wonder if Y/N is trying to undermine us.

The queen bee's expression darkened, her insecurities once again bubbling to the surface. Seonhwa knew exactly which buttons to push, expertly exploiting Yana's fear of losing her social standing and the adoration of their peers.

You're right, Seonhwa, Yana murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Y/N has been acting strange lately. Maybe we should keep a closer eye on her.

Seonhwa's lips curled into a triumphant smile, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. She had once again successfully sown the seeds of doubt in Yana's mind, setting the stage for the next phase of her manipulations.

Turning her attention to the rest of the clique, Seonhwa's demeanor shifted, her voice laced with a subtle venom. Guys, I'm really worried about Y/N. She's been spending an awful lot of time with Choi San, and I can't help but wonder if she's trying to turn us against each other.

The group erupted in a chorus of murmurs and whispers, their expressions darkening as Seonhwa's words took hold. Ahn Hyejeong, Seonhwa's loyal sidekick, was quick to jump on the bandwagon, her eyes narrowing as she glared in the direction of Y/N and Choi San.

Y/N's always been a little... different, Hyejeong chimed in, her voice dripping with disdain. Maybe it's time we reminded her of where she stands in this group.

As the clique's attention shifted towards the unsuspecting pair, the tension within the group reached a fever pitch. Y/N and Choi San found themselves at the center of a brewing storm, their newfound alliance suddenly thrust into the crosshairs of Seonhwa's manipulative schemes., As the clique's attention shifted towards Y/N and Choi San, Moon Yana found herself caught in the crosshairs of Seonhwa's manipulative schemes, her once-unwavering loyalty to her best friend now hanging by a thread.

Yana watched in silent turmoil as Seonhwa's words sowed discord among the group, the whispers and glares directed towards the unsuspecting pair igniting a spark of unease within her. She had always prided herself on her role as the queen bee, the undisputed leader of their social circle, but now, the weight of her own actions began to weigh heavily on her conscience.

Memories of the carefree days, when Y/N had been a constant presence by her side, flashed through Yana's mind. The laughter they had shared, the secrets they had kept, the unwavering bond that had once defined their friendship – all of it now seemed like a distant echo, drowned out by the toxic dynamics that had consumed their lives.

Yana's gaze drifted towards Y/N, her former friend's once-vibrant spirit now dimmed by the cruelty she had endured. The realization that her own complicity in the group's behavior had contributed to Y/N's pain and isolation struck Yana like a physical blow, shattering the carefully constructed facade of confidence and control she had so meticulously maintained.

Haunted by the echoes of Y/N's pleas for help, the silent cries that had gone unheeded, Yana found herself torn between the loyalty she had pledged to Seonhwa and the lingering affection she still harbored for her former friend. The moral dilemma that had once been so easily dismissed now loomed large, casting a shadow over the very foundations of the social hierarchy she had worked so hard to maintain.

As Seonhwa's manipulations continued to unfold, Yana found herself increasingly drawn into the web of deceit, her own actions and inactions now coming back to haunt her. The weight of her guilt, the nagging sense that she had betrayed the very person she had once cherished, threatened to overwhelm her, shattering the illusion of control that had once defined her.

In the midst of the turmoil, Yana's gaze flickered between Y/N and Choi San, the two outsiders who had found an unexpected alliance in the face of the group's cruelty. And in that moment, a seed of doubt took root, a glimmer of hope that perhaps there was a way to break free from the toxic dynamics that had consumed them all.

Yana's internal conflict raged, the battle between her desire for power and her lingering affection for Y/N threatening to tear her apart. But as the tension within the group reached a fever pitch, the queen bee found herself standing at a crossroads, her next move poised to shift the delicate balance of power that Seonhwa had so meticulously orchestrated., As the tension within the clique reached a fever pitch, Hwang Y/N found herself drawn deeper into an unexpected alliance with Choi San, the reserved boy who had reached out to her in her darkest moment.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the two outsiders huddled together, their voices hushed as they shared their stories and contemplated their next move. Y/N had been wary of Choi San's intentions at first, her trust in others shattered by the betrayal she had endured. But as they spoke, she found herself opening up, drawn to the genuine empathy and understanding that radiated from his gaze.

Choi San, in turn, listened intently, his own experiences of isolation and bullying resonating with Y/N's plight. Together, they began to devise a plan, a way to expose the truth and bring down the toxic social hierarchy that had consumed their lives.

The prospect of seeking justice, of reclaiming the agency that had been so cruelly stripped away, ignited a spark of determination within Y/N. No longer would she be a passive victim, cowering in the face of Seonhwa's manipulations and the clique's cruelty. With Choi San by her side, she felt a newfound sense of strength, a resolve to confront the very forces that had sought to destroy her.

Yet, as they mapped out their strategy, the looming threat of Seonhwa's wrath and the uncertainty of Yana's loyalties cast a shadow over their endeavor. The queen bee's influence ran deep, her grip on the social hierarchy seemingly unbreakable, and Y/N and Choi San knew that the road ahead would be fraught with peril.

Yana's internal conflict, the battle between her desire for power and her lingering affection for Y/N, hung like a dark cloud over their plans. Would the queen bee finally find the courage to break free from Seonhwa's manipulative hold, or would she remain a willing pawn in the cruel game that had torn their once-inseparable trio apart?

As Y/N and Choi San sat in contemplative silence, their eyes locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. They knew that the confrontation to come would be high-stakes, a clash of wills that would test the very limits of their resolve. But in that moment, they found solace in each other's company, a shared understanding that had blossomed into an unexpected bond.

Together, they would face the storm, determined to uncover the truth and reclaim the futures that had been so cruelly stolen from them. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger, but in each other, they had found an ally, a kindred spirit who would stand by their side no matter the cost.

[themournwatcher]

Mahanon Tabris Meta Post

This is going to be a long one, boys. Read more under the cut. tw: brief discussion of SA

Gender and Gendered Violence

For Mahanon Tabris, the journey he undertakes in Dragon Age: Origins is one that is centered around his gender, and gendered violence. Despite the Andrastian faith being the prevailing religion across Ferelden (and Thedas as a whole), we’re still treated to the typical misogyny in-world as we can come to expect from any pseudo-medieval fantasy game released in 2009. Ranging from snide comments made about the capabilities of a fem Warden or what can be extrapolated as parallels from real-world allegory as headcanons (click here to read my headcanons about Ghilan’nain), the world of Thedas is not so different from our own in regards to subtle if enforced ideas about gender roles and norms.

Enter the City Elf origin. Regardless of whether you first played it with a masc or fem Tabris, it leaves a sick feeling in your stomach about the underbelly of nobility of Thedas and their treatment of their lessers–elves, servants, and, well, women. 

Mahanon Tabris lived most of his life in Denerim performing as a gender-conforming woman because that is what was asked of him. Although his mother Adaia indulged him in many things; the art of weaponry, whispers of a life beyond the Alienage walls, and the gift of a new name for her son once he asked for it, the narrative demands that Adaia dies. The wife dies, the mother dies, the woman dies to further the story. That is the very first thing that Mahanon Tabris learns; the woman will die. 

His father, Cyrion, asks him to put aside the notions of masculinity that his mother had humored. Not for a lack of love; in fact, it is an outpouring of Cyrion’s love, concern, and fear that drives him to make that request. Mahanon, who has learned that deviation from the norm equals death, acquiesced to the request. From there he continued to stifle everything that made him “Mahanon”--that which is now intrinsically tied to his mother, and by virtue, her death. (These themes relate to how Mahanon interacts with his Andrastian faith. I’ll discuss that in another post).

I decided not to start Mahanon’s story (Born Again in Blood) with the wedding day, and the horror that it was. Instead I started his story in the immediate wake of it; being led out of Denerim by Duncan, after he had silently witnessed his life trade hands three times. From his own, to Valendrian, to the Arl’s men, and then finally to Duncan and the Grey Wardens. Truthfully, it was hearing that Duncan had once wanted to recruit Adaia that fostered trust once they were far enough away from Denerim that he was willing to speak.

Duncan gave him that chance; let him announce his new name. On the way to Ostagar, Mahanon cut his hair. There is also an instance in which he speaks with the armorer and it appears this stranger recognizes his plight.

His lips twitched downward at the thought, but his chest bloomed with new breath. He could give any name that he wanted. He could weave any lie, any tale, any story to make it palatable on the tongue. If he was a Grey Warden now–at the least, a recruit–his life would never be the same. He remembered the name his mother gave him when his father wasn’t listening, her hands soft and warm on his cheeks. The name they shared in whispers together as she taught him how to wield a sword to defend himself. The same name Shianni muttered as he lifted her up off of the floor. “Mahanon,” he said. “My name is Mahanon Tabris.”

Fingers closed around the cold hilt and he brought it up to his neck without much of a second thought. He cut through the wet tresses just where they brushed against his collar; it would have been easier, he realized, were his hair dry, but he had already begun to cut it away now. He braced his feet in the mud and stood there, cutting, until he felt a weight fall free from his head and he could breathe freely. Left in his hands were the twenty years of his life. He would let the river take them, too.

 “I think I have something that will fit you,” he said. “Put this on underneath. Those bandages don’t do shit beneath the plate.” Mahanon looked down to see something reminiscent of a corset in his hands, though the leather strands could be more tightly bound, and it did not go as far down the torso. Confused, he looked back up at Gareth.

The smith didn’t bluster as he collected pieces of a plate set. “My daughter went off to become one of them Templars. I still see her at the Chantry sometimes. But she has a similar issue. Things can’t get in the way; I get it.” (paraphrased).

These are three experiences on the way to Ostagar alone that Mahanon is allowed to express himself the way he would prefer. There is an acknowledgment from Duncan that everything in Denerim is dead and left behind, and so he gives Mahanon that space to let it go and embrace a new life, which he eagerly grabs onto. That being said, Mahanon has just walked away from the most horrifying instance of gendered violence that one can articulate within the Dragon Age series. Reeling from that trauma, it changes how he interacts with the world.

Behind his gleaming amber eyes, Mahanon’s mind went blank. He wasn’t sure where Kallian ended and he began anymore, but all he knew is that he was a liar again; a liar wearing a beaded wedding gown. It was green once, he remembered that. Then it was red. Red, red red, and dripping with the lifesblood of men who had tried to take his own. Her own. Took Shianni’s. Took Nelaros’s. So he took theirs. Everyone whose hands had touched and stolen and dirtied. All of them. Like dogs. “I killed an arl’s son for raping my friend,” Mahanon snapped, and he took a step forward.

Finding the first of the recruits, Daveth, was a simple but stupid affair. Mahanon had stumbled upon the man harassing one of the women in King Cailan’s army. It took Mahanon planting himself firmly between them and introducing himself to give the woman a chance to run off. Not that he blamed her. Daveth introduced himself as a thief from Denerim. Not that Mahanon couldn’t tell. The accent gave away where he was from. His attitude gave away the fact that he thought he was entitled to take what he wanted even if it didn’t belong to him.

Mahanon did not sleep soundly that night. In his tent, which he erected far from the others, he remained tense. Rest did not come for him, and he did not close his eyes. Instead he curled his body around his sheathed sword, his bleary gaze locked upon the flap of his tent. A camp full of strangers. Stronger than him, faster than him, deadlier with a blade. He would be a fool to think that he could rest soundly and safely when surrounded by them.

“Come on,” the man said, forcing a smile to his face. He clapped a hand on Mahanon’s shoulder. Alistair withdrew his touch when Mahanon flinched away from the wall and his hand, scowling. Alistair’s smile turned apologetic as the pale light of the sun began to rise.

 “I am sorry,” he said to Mahanon. “I was told what occurred in Denerim. It should not have happened to your friend.” There was pity in Loghain’s gaze. Mahanon loathed pity. With that, he swept away into the tent, and Mahanon was left breathless. Reeling, he felt like the only eyes left to pull him apart were his own, as if he could step out of his own body and watched as he forgot how to breathe. He watched himself stand there as the world drowned out with the roar of blood in his ears. He didn’t need pity. Apologies. He needed them to understand. He had been the one to cradle Nelaros’s bloody corpse to his chest. He had been the one to carry Shianni out of the arl’s home as she sobbed silently into his torn sleeve. 

 Duncan found him later in the kennel with the ailing Mabari. It took him a while. The sun was up. He could only assume that he was tough to find, or maybe Duncan wanted to give him space enough to collect his composure. The dog had begun to perk up, the kennel master had told him when he had come by. Food and water had been partaken of, and so Mahanon had plopped down inside and let the dog rest her slobbery head on his lap. He wasn’t sure what brought him here of all places. Maybe it was the fact that the Mabari brought a rare feminine touch to a place where he had only been pitted against men who, unfortunately, were surpassed by dogs where tact was concerned. 

“Do you know who removed them?” Mahanon asked. He put a hand out towards Alistair’s chest to deter him from saying anything else. Jory was quaking at the sight of the woman, but Daveth’s face had smoothed into a steely regard, and there was a dark glint in his eyes that sat ill with Mahanon. Like a knife that caught moonlight through a dirty window.

That’s a lot of examples, but I wanted to lend significant insight into how Mahanon views the world around him  in the wake of his trauma. He may be a man, but he does not trust other men. He has spent too long and too wary to make the mistake of doing so, even if they do not treat him with the same regard as they would if he were still presenting as a woman. At the core of Mahanon’s masculinity, he carries with him his own violence that comes with existing as a woman–and the inherited gendered violence that he carries from his mother, and his grandmother, and so on and so forth all the way back. (Andraste ties into this as well. We will readdress this in the religious meta post).

Mahanon’s masculinity is centered around his femininity, and his outward masculine expression is another way to protect that part of him. Yes, he is trans, and has been a man from the very first breath, but he will not abandon that girlhood of his, he will not sell it out and lie abed with the men who tug and tear at women like his mother until there is nothing of them left. 

Mahanon saw the Grey Wardens as such: 

Death to his old life.

A chance to live his new life.

But the Joining was a baptism of blood, and inherently feminine. You must consume tainted blood, let it pass through you, to become Greater? It is baptism, it is birth, and it is life. It is everything that a mother does,and  it is his mother who remains the straight arrow in his mind that guides him. Mahanon’s themes and the way he grapples with his own gender is the idea of death, life, and rebirth, and everything that he has to live with. He cannot any longer deny any part of himself.

He looked down at the chalice in his hands; blood, tainted. He looked up at the statue of Andraste that peered down upon them all. He thought of her when she died a martyr. He thought of his mother, lifesblood, the breath she gave for him at birth. He thought of himself, a child, blood-red and slick from between his thighs. He parted his lips and drank deeply.