#i have Many Feelings about this recurring theme

[itwoodbeprefect]

i don't have a point here except ???, but i realized today that starsky & hutch episode the psychic a) was written by micheal mann of (among many other things) classic crime thriller heat fame, and b) contains a baffling amount of (references to) crossdressing. it's one of the two episodes that opens with starsky and hutch chasing a guy in a dress (which gives us the "well i don't know, you('d) look rather nice in basic black and pearls" starsky-to-hutch line), later on they interrupt a robbery being committed by ANOTHER guy in a dress (and grey wig, posing as an old lady - presumably with the intent to disguise his identity rather than express some part of it, but who knows), and THEN they meet a hot lady mechanic who among many fast lines says to starsky "i'm really a basketball player in drag. whatever turns you on, honey" (interestingly timely, considering starsky's earlier comment about hutch). and finally, not entirely related but also not unrelated, there's these people at a laundromat hutch hits up on his mad phone chase at the end of the episode:

so yeah. ???.

#haven't revisited this episode in a long time (if ever?) because maybe-THIS-psychic-is-REAL plots... are not among my favorite #(due south has an episode very similar to this and i'm blaming starsky and hutch for it. c'mon guys.) #but!! everything else about this episode is FUN actually!! slightly wacky lots of great s&h interaction and oooh that chase at the end #but i just. what's with this one thing. is this an attempt to be clever with a theme? as in. deception maybe. or you don't know what's real #or a kinder interpretation: there are things you may not understand in this world but that doesn't mean they're not true for someone else? #or is it meant as a recurring joke? is it literally pure coincidence? #did michael mann even write that first scene or did it come from the other episode that uses it and just got tacked on here #which suddenly makes this episode seem like it's Doing something when it wasn't supposed to #i have! many questions! among which is. why the hell was starsky in such a bad mood. what happened #... are you telling me he's psychic too and he had a deep dark feeling hutch was going to almost die later on? #i feel like i need to make a psych reference here but i haven't watched enough of the show to be clever about it. 🍍 i guess #* #starsky and hutch

[thevalleyisjolly]

Being quietly but incredibly vindicated by Taliesin explicitly saying at the Comic-Con panel that bringing Molly back would have been wrong, that Molly’s whole deal was a celebration of the ephemeral, and that introducing Kingsley was always the plan.

#not maintagging this one because i simply don't have the strength for molly discourse now #yes! you can miss molly! a major recurring theme in cr is death and grief and mourning and healing #but it would be completely antithetical to the actual canon character to bring them back #if in your own headcanon or fic; you want to imagine a version of molly as alive; more power to you #but canon never 'owed' us a resurrected molly because actual canon molly would never stand for it #i feel like a lot of people got caught up in the excellent RP by the rest of the cast about their characters' grief for molly #and with death and in grief; you often idolize people; overlook their negative qualities and fixate on their good moments #which is not the fault of the cast (who RP-ed it excellently) or the characters (who mourned very realistically) #but a lot of people got caught up in those powerful emotions and it just contributed to the deification of the character #which led to real world nasty behaviours like shitting on caduceus and attacking fans who did anything other than praise molly #people really took the 'i am your god' JOKE a little too far #on a side note; you just known that if molly had lived; they'd have eventually clashed with the rampant biphobia in the cr fandom #right now they're the dead 'queer icon' (as if cr hasn't had multiple queer characters in all types of roles across all their campaigns) #but if they'd lived; how many people who now laud them as the pinnacle of queer rep would deny their bisexuality? #i thank blood maledict that we never had to witness the absolute nightmare that would have erupted if molly/jester ever became a thing

[cheesey-rice]

Yin/yang is literally such a core philosophical concept that i feel like is just like lying at the center of human thought in that it's that same thing of greek mythology in people trying to describe the beginning of existence as chaos, just that there is a formlessness to everything, nothing has inherent meaning (a theme in buddhist philosophy as well) but things begin to have meaning when there is a delineation. A very basic one is myself and others. This is the foundation of human experience, the idea of experience being an existence separate from that which is not existence. Yin/yang as a concept is reflective of the fact that in the human way of thinking, lines are drawn between two things. As a human, if you look at one whole of something and make a division, you can divide them into two things. So the sky could be divided into night and day, when one concept is divided into two concepts, one of them will resemble 阴 and the other will resemble 阳 based on our perception of it. The thing that holds over from this discussion of human thought is not really that all people will associate the same things with the aspect of 阴 and the aspect of 阳, but that the nature of 'meaning' is that it is derived from divisions of a whole. Yet, because this meaning/division is an invention of perception, Yinyang as a concept reminds the human thinker that true and absolute division is not a reality that new perception cannot change. To have a concept of what is good, you need a concept of what is bad to differentiate the two. Yet, because of this, you can't just say that all things in your concept of what is good will always be good and all things in the concept of what is bad will be bad, because these are just verbal labels and communicative constructions we're trying to use to understand how we feel about the world around us. And that even though there may exist a division between two things, those two things will still be connected by the fact that they are a part of the whole of something else. the Yinyang is a circle with lines drawn between to the two parts, but the two still take upon the form of that circle.

#just writing my feelings about this because i think that yinyang is one of those things that i get tired of like spiritual interpretations #of sometimes because like. well obviously a recurring theme in interpretations of yinyang past the date of its creation is that some kind o #force needs to enforce perfect balance between two things but that is soooo tired in my opinion. yinyang isnt a moral lesson to me it is a #description you know. its saying this is the nature of the universe as we know it and thus this is the nature of human thought #because when you look at the way people with those worldviews apply yinyang those are the guys who end up being like 'men and women are #fundamentally different and are together required to form a perfect union' when actually no the thing is that men and women are an #artificial line we have drawn between the continuous whole of 'being a human person' and even though this distinction has a certain functio #in describing our understanding of humanity the binary is artificial and will contain many exceptions in the whole #Also the core idea of THINGS WE THINK ARE FUNDAMENTALLY DIFFERENT WILL STILL HAVE SIMILARITIES BETWEEN THEM #like when thinking don't assume that between two distinct ideas there are not also common characteristics #personal

[mcmansionhell]

dome sweet dome

As some of you may know, I have been going to language school for the last few months in order to learn the world's most widely spoken and useful language: Slovenian. At this point, my Slovenian is about as coherent as, well, a McMansion. In order to feel better about myself, I have sought out a McMansion that is worse than my cases and word-order. This house (in Naperville, IL, of course) does, in fact, make me feel better, but will probably make you feel worse:

This Cheescake Factory house, built in 2005, boasts 5 bedrooms, 8.5 bathrooms and can be yours for the entirely reasonable sum of $3.5 million dollars. Also for some reason all the photos look like they are retouched with 2012-era Instagram filters.

First of all, trying to visualize the floor plan of this house is like trying to rotate seven cubes individually in my mind's eye. Second, if you stand right beneath the hole in the ceiling you can get the approximate sensation of being a cartoon character who has just instantaneously fallen in love.

Even if this was a relatively mundane McMansion it still would have made it into the rotation because of the creepy life-sized butler and maid. Would not want to run into them in the middle of the night.

The mural is giving 1986 Laura Ashley or perhaps maybe the background they use for Cabbage Patch Kids packaging but the floor? The floor is giving Runescape texture.

Have you ever seen so many real plants in your life? A veritable Eden.

The overwhelming desire to push one of the chairs into the haunted jacuzzi...but in reality they probably put those chairs there to keep from accidentally falling into the tub at night.

(elevator music starts playing)

This is one of the all time [adjective] rooms of McMansion Hell. I personally am in love with it, though I don't think I understand it. Perhaps it is not meant to be understood.....,

Continuing with the baseball theme, the guy in the painting looks how I feel after it's been raining in Ljubljana for two straight weeks. (Not ideal!!)

And finally:

We love a house that has four unused balconies and also a sporting grounds that is large enough to build a whole second McMansion on top of. Everyone should so value their health.

Thank you for tuning into another edition of McMansion Hell. Be sure to check out the Patreon for the two bonus posts (a McMansion and the Good House) which both also go out today!

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.

#architecture #design #mcmansion #mcmansions #interior design #2000s design #illinois #2005 #bad architecture #ugly houses #2000s core

[divinefeminine-card]

Pick a card: Your life two years from now

Hello everyone, it has been a while isn't it? I thought what should be the topic of my second pac. Then this idea came to my mind, not original but anyways haha. Now, before we head on I need you all to know that growth is different for everyone. Okay? And to be very honest, it is also as much fine if you feel you haven't grown at all, because I promise you have, it is inevitable. We are always growing.

To pick a pile now, choose whatever image attracts you first. Its fine if more than one image attracts you guys. And if nothing really calls you then this pac might not be for you, have a good day, lots of love and light to you :D

Piles:

1-2

3-4

5-6

Readings 🍒

Pile 1

Hello my Pile 1, what I am seeing is you guys, two years from now, would have gotten really experienced in certain areas of life. Like, you know the shit, alright? Combat, you are ready for combat. You are aware and awake. Ready to tackle any obstacle or whatsoever. The next two years are definitely very much significant for you guys in terms of emotional maturity. You guys will definitely learn to listen to your intuition. Let me tell you, it's NOT easy to listen to your intuition and not confuse it with other things but I am seeing you guys will be very much certain in this as well.

Uh-ha! Pile 1, you will definitely be doing some kind of work, job or creating something solid/stable by yourselves. Mark my words. You all will be so skilled omg I am so happy for you!!!! You all will be so meticulous in your craft, so expert! It's awesome!! I am getting the mature-independent vibes!!! It might be something you always had a talent of 👀

Going to get-togethers, parties, having your own standing. You know, you might frequent different parties, get-togethers, meetings. I am definitely seeing you all really standing your ground and own no matter what!! Just being confident in oneself.

Two years from now, you guys would have worked through many of your fears, mostly societal fear I believe. You will be your unapologetic self, love 🥺

If by any chance you are worried about your loved ones safety and security, fret not, they will be safe and secure :)))

I love you guys so much, hope you liked the reading.

Pile 2

Hello my Pile 2, Damn guys, majority of your cards are of Major Arcana!!

Two years from now, I am seeing you guys being more outspoken than ever before. Like, just saying whatever comes to your mind. It's kinda cute to be very honest (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

This is a very recurring typa theme in this pile, you guys will be your most balanced and in tune with yourself version of yours ever!!! I am seeing you and your lives to be very much at peace. Nothing too high, nothing too low. Things are going on calmly and peacefully. You will be connected to both your masculine and feminine side in perfect harmony. So happy. Your life and you, yourself will be so full of happiness and optimism, it would be contagious to the people around you. You will be blooming!!

You guys will be just and good. You will not be the type to be swayed by fake greed and flash. Protecting your peaceful life I am seeing. You will be the type to do your work quietly and retire to your chambers as soon as possible. Your coworkers will be very cooperative as well. You will be supported and looked after.

I see child-like happiness within you guys. You will be blessed and happy. You know that song Colorful World by Kathryn Ostenburg, that's what I am reminded of while doing this reading. I will link it here.

Lots of love and emotional time here. This can be a healing period for you. It might be a bit uncomfortable but trust it's gonna be so so good.

Pile 3

Hello my Pile 3!

Getting on with your reading, I am definitely seeing lots of competition, determination, using your resources, trying to be as quick as possible, preservation of wealth and defence of your own self.

Okay, so two years from now, your life will be quite in a moving state, like things are actively in motion. Situations and things are still building up. Resources are scattered so preservation is also very important. I am sensing that the environment you will be in two years from now will be quite competitive, and very very very opportunistic, selfish as well I think. Everyone wants to be at the top, but not everyone can be at the top here, so the brutal competition is.

Even though you will have secured your own position but I am still seeing the stance of defense and alertness here, ready to strike if anyone dares touch what yours truthfully, rightfully. Despite all of the harsh surroundings though, you still will be down-to-earth and humble at heart ❤️ Love that for you my pile 3. You are self-sufficient and happy in yourself.

Whenever you would feel seriously down, you would look at all the abundance you have, and be like "Oh, I have this, no need to be sad 💅🏻 🤓" haha, it's specific but boy do I feel it will be so true.

At times, the period might seem very bleak but always remember to hold your vision high my lovely pile 3, you all have got this okay?? No matter what, you all have got this! The answers you have been yearning for long will be given to you. Just hold on to the hope. Take these trials as the test of your commitment! You got this my pile 3! I love you 💖

Pile 4

Hello my Pile 4!! I am seeing a very fulfilled and happy life for you guys. Like, when I say fulfilled I mean, you would have the money, the wisdom and the love (both giving and receiving).

You would feel complete in ALL areas of life, my pile 4 I swear. You would not be afraid of being vulnerable either. Instead, I feel it will be something which will give you great strength in tough times. You would feel the success you have achieved after a period of growth. You will feel happy, pile 4, truly happy. You will be juggling different aspects of your life, most likely professional life and family life. It would be a difficult task but, oh aren't you a damn skilled juggler my pile 4?? Things will go up and down but you will skillfully balance them out.

You will definitely be fiercely protective of everything you have cultivated over the years, if something serious were to happen you wouldn't take a second to take the matter in legal hands. You are so cool for that! Never shy away. I am also seeing you might be in the position of leadership, leading people with wisdom and guidance.

Now, seeing the abundance of everything, some snakes might be growing themselves in your yard without your knowledge, in simpler words, someone close to you might not want your best and will try to sabotage you in some way. Look out for them.

Don't try to take too much in your control. If you are feeling so let it be, and if necessary so, let it go, let them go. Don't let pride get in your way. It's fine to sometimes just lower your guard down and be one with everyone. You and your loved ones are safe and sound, waiting for you to return home. Come soon ❤️.

Pile 5

Hello my Pile 5! So, I think it will be, what you can call a very balanced life. You know the ups and downs of life, going on and on and on in cycles.

I think two years from now, you guys will be in your healing era. Healing from the past wounds and preparing for the brighter future. Really proud of you guys. You know, healing is a process, a long one and sometimes a tedious one. So, these past wounds, rewiring your minds might keep you awake at night, thinking what you should or shouldn't have done, even if it seems like I promise it's not the end of the world. After this you all will be in a deep resting healing time. Like, genuine rest, not laying down and having all the lifetime crisis in a single moment.

When this all hard work starts showing their fruits, you will feel it, so my pile 5, two years from now, you guys will be embracing your femininity to its fullest finally, after needing to have kept it hidden. You will let yourself feel the emotions coming through you, to you. You will be secure and stable. You are like a young sprout 🌱, no matter your age, with a lot of potential to grow, and you will, watch my words. Two years from now, you will be comfortable in yourselves. Not taking shit from anybody finally.

You will start planting seeds for your better future. Carefully mending it. Looking forward to it.

I would also like to tell you, I feel you guys will get into a loving relationship or form a deep friendship with someone ;) whichever it will be, it will be healthy with boundaries, okay guys?? Healing is ultimately what you do, but you can never deny the environmental factors. This bond will definitely have a significant impact on you.

Have faith, look at the bigger picture and have fun. That's it! Bye pile 5!

Pile 6

Hello my Pile 6! The energy is quite dynamic must I say. It's all about taking back the control you were stripped off of or never had thought deserved in the first place.

The environment you will be in would be veryyyy competitive. It's like, even when you guys are doing the cheers 🥂 it will be a competition of who can do so the highest. There will be meaningful friendships but still competitive, no sabotaging though. There will be constant support from around.

The times will be quite chaotic. You never know when the rug would be pulled from beneath your feet. Unexpected things happen, one after another, no break or whatsoever. It will be like you are at the top of the world one second and the other at the bottom. Even though expected, it will always bring disturbance to you and your life. Things will seem like they are breaking down one after another. BUT WAIT!

You guys will be fighting (quite literally, academically, legally, physically, mentally (hopefully safely, don't worry)). Like, taking back what was meant to be yours. Working and practicing real hard, like REAL. And you will NOT be quiet about your strength my pile 6 😂 you will be like "I was gonna win. Told you so." It's fun. Anyways.

You will be so experienced during and after all this turmoil. You will finally gain the very much needed stability after all this time. You will reason with your head. Become a mature version of you, the version of desired. It's awesome!!

You pile 6, are definitely one sneaky fella :D you definitely know your way around your field and will get what you desire by hook or crook, good on you haha. You are the type to not attack from the front but rather from the side, neither are wrong though as long as you know you are doing well ;)

So guysss, the reading ends here. This is my second pac. Let me know how you like it, if you please. Any criticism or praise? Bring them on.

Hope you enjoy reading this pac as much as I enjoyed writing it! If anything, just more!

#free tarot reading #pac reading #free readings #tarot reading #oracle reading #divination #pick a pile #astrology #pac tarot #pick an image #Spotify

[arcticzuko]

Spy x Family Ch 96 spoilers

Seeing people complain about Anya telling Damian that she can read minds before Loid/Yor is so mind boggling to me. Because even if we ignore the fact that Anya is scared of being abandoned by Loid and Yor if she tells them the truth, or the fact that Damian is someone her age/a peer, and it's common for kids to feel like it's easier to tell things to their peers then to their parents... even if we ignore all that, it was ALWAYS going to Damian. I feel like Endo has been hinting that for a long time. It's a recurring theme/gag that Damian questions if Anya can read minds... and I feel like Endo has also been building up the fact that Anya and Damian actually are in pretty similar situations... they both want to impress their father/make their father proud.

LIKE THIS PANEL... Anya isn't mind reading here. There are no sparkles around her head. She didnt need to mind read! She KNOWS that Damian loves his father!

And there have been many moments in which she seems to show some reflection/thought after hearing Damians thoughts about his father (like during the dodge ball game, or her apologizing when they were making their paper animals)

ALSO THIS SCENE...

Here Anya literally says she doesn't even know if Loid likes her, because he's so hard to understand. But she loves him, and believes in him. Isn't that EXACTLY what Damian is going through right now?

Perhaps people didn't completely register all these small moments bc of the gag/jokey vibe Damian and Anya moments have, but I feel like it's ALWAYS been there that Anya maybe relates to Damian in this way, which is why she has her moments where she tries to be kind to him.

Also I want to point out that, in a LOT of pivotal moments, Endo DOESNT tell us what Anya is thinking. Instead we have to guess or theorize... and we know that when Anya is doing a sobered up/serious expression, we should definitely pay attention. (Some random panels below to show u what I mean).

And in this panel, I feel like Endo is doing something similar... I mean look at Anya's expression!

So I feel like in this moment, where Damian is being honest, and kind, and true to himself-- it makes Anya want to be truthful too. And I don't think it came out of nowhere. I mean I was surprised LOL but I never thought it didn't make sense for this to happen.

I think people forget that Anya is probably the character we know the least about, and that a lot of her more "serious" thoughts are usually kept from us, but that doesn't mean she's not... thinking serious things lol!!

Anyway this was a long rant and idek if it made sense but if you got this far thanks for reading lol

#spy x family #spy x family spoilers #spy x family chapter 96 #anya forger #damian desmond #damianya

[youremyheaven]

Random Astrology Observations

Moon in the 1h is often talked about like 🥺🥺wears their heart on their sleeve🥹🥹uwu softie way but tbh Moon in 1h can make someone incredibly manipulative, they know just what to say and when to say it and know how to work their audience, this is perhaps why this placement is found in the charts of soooo many successful actors. ex: Leonardo DiCaprio, Audrey Hepburn, Henry Cavill, Charlie Chaplin, Priyanka Chopra, Antonio Banderas, Brendan Fraser, Benicio Del Toro, Jared Padelecki, Val Kilmer, Adrien Brody etc

I think this is a very manipulative placement, again manipulation is not in and of itself a bad thing, its what we use it for that matters. Some people completely lack the ability to manipulate at all (they don't have Moon influence)

2. Debilitated placements point to unconventional intelligence & wisdom in that area. I feel like they've cracked the code . They struggle a lot but when they triumph it's magic

3. I've mentioned this in other posts but many notorious sex offenders have Venus influence. Actions of this sort, as well as criticizing others' beauty, not taking care of yourself/surroundings, being shabby or disorderly in general are all things that harm your Venus. Abusing someone is the quickest way to ruin your Venus, you start corroding and that ugliness begins to manifest on the outside.

Ex: Harvey Weinstein looks like a cartoonish villain

4. As I explore the astrology content put out by others across different platforms, I've seen how the nature of the take themselves are so specific and unique to the person making them. Claire Nakti has a tendency imo to focus heavily on romance, sex and women's sexual behaviour and what sort of men they attract.

Going through her website, it's obvious that she's deeply immersed in occult & esoteric philosophy (all of which ties together with vedic astrology, philosophy, Buddhism etc because I truly believe that spiritual truths are universal and different schools of thought/religion/culture/mythology express these same truths in their own way with a LOT of recurring patterns) and Carl Jung as well.

It's studying Jung that helped me understand that what we see or draw from something is a reflection of who we are. As a beginner to vedic astrology, I initially believed Claire's one dimensional portrayal to be the all encompassing truth of a nakshatra until I started doing my own reading and research.

The things I talk about or the patterns I find are a reflection of me and I get a lot of asks about why I don't do xyz nak and honestly it's not as simple as doing research for an essay for uni, you kind of have to have a gnosis or innate knowing of its themes, something to base your search off of. And different naks call to me at different points. I come across content that describes certain naks in lights i could've never imagined which is to say that gnosis or inner knowing is an important aspect of studying anything esoteric, it kind of has to be revealed to you and what you see, what you can discern is a reflection of you.

5. you have to have a strong Rahu to discern patterns and similarities because Rahu is maya/illusion and a well-placed Rahu will allow you to see through those patterns/illusions. it will be very hard for someone without a strong Rahu to find similarities or common tropes, patterns, themes etc. Seeing through the veil or fog is Rahuvian.

6. Claire Nakti made a video about Venusian men where she said they were the ideal type of man and tbh that just confirmed my suspicion that she's Moon dominant because I think Moon dominant people are attracted to Venusians but in my humble opinion both Venusian men and Moon dominant men are some of the most batshit crazy people (manipulative and controlling at the least, psychopathic at worst) basically men who have a lot of Yin tend to be psychotic

7. I've noticed that Revati people tend to speak in a very verbose way. Nigella Lawson, Revati Moon is a really good example. Obviously other placements will also impact speech

8. Moon dominant people hate it when others share sob stories. They're the type to have the least amount of empathy for others and will either react in a neutral way or like they don't understand why you're saying this stuff at all. They're bored by other people's mundane problems and make it known as well. Not people you want to open up to.

My former friend was this way, I once cried in front of her and she showed zero emotion and didn't even try to comfort me lol

9. The way others treat us is the way we treat others. ik this is a basic take but karma is cause and effect. if you're dismissive of others feelings, other people will be dismissive of yours. what you do is what will be done unto you. Its so crazy to see how people who've been treated like shit by their friends will turn around and treat other people like shit. this is sooo basic but genuinely dont do anything to others that you dont want done to you.

#astrology notes #astrology observations #vedic astro notes #nakshatras #astrology #sidereal astrology #astro notes #astro observations #vedic astrology #astroblr

[crippleprophet]

rules of engagement before we begin: do not seek the original post out to interact with it negatively or harass op in any way. if i find out about anybody doing that sort of shit i’ll block them so quick it’ll be the fastest i’ve moved all year. ok thx here we go

[image description: three screenshots of a post with the username blacked out. the introductory & closing paragraphs are as follows, & the bullet points will be listed within the body of this post. the introduction reads:

nobody warns you this but addiction happens without you noticing and one of the first things that it attacks is your ability to care. if you find yourself using recreational drugs every day, stop and take one day a week sober. if you struggle with this or if you don't see the point of the exercise, you are likely already addicted and you need help.

nobody ever taught me the warning signs for drug addiction, only that "it costs lots of money and destroys your life!!!1" which is not helpful if you can't recognize a developing addiction in yourself. so here's some things to watch out for with recreational drug use.

the conclusion reads: yes this applies to weed. weed is a drug and you can get addicted to it like any other substance. addiction is not the same as physical dependence; it is psychological and it can happen to anyone. you are not immune to addiction. end image description.]

now! fundamentally why i will never align with this kind of perspective is that i affirm addiction as a social construct, like all so-called mental illnesses, & the psychiatric institution which invents & reifies them as a fucking sham.

answer quickly:

what substances is it possible for one to become addicted to? does this include caffeine? why or why not?

is the claim of sugar addiction legitimate or anti-fat pseudoscience? what, if anything, differentiates this from other addiction science?

what is the harm of the so-called opioid epidemic: access to a safe supply of narcotics, or the lack thereof?

can an autistic person who eats the same dinner every night, for example, be said to be “psychologically addicted” to it if they have a meltdown & subsequent ongoing distress + disinterest in food when it is discontinued?

can you be addicted to psychiatric medication? immunosuppressants? why or why not?

my point is less that these behaviors are not indicative of addiction but rather that that wouldn’t inherently make them harmful. fuck it, let’s take it point by point!

planning your day around drugs e.g "i'll give myself an extra half hour before heading out so i can get high first"

this whole post had me asking “literally what is the problem with this,” starting with this first bullet! why does someone need to leave for the grocery store at 5:30 instead of 6, or whatever? and the other recurring theme: what happens if you replace “drugs” with “pain management”? (chronic pain is not the only valid reason to get high—all reasons for drug use are equally value-neutral—but it certainly still is one.) “i’ll give myself an extra half hour before heading out for my pain management to start working” is the kind of calculation familiar to most people with chronic pain. “stop and take one day a week without pain management” is not a test of whether you “need help,” it’s torture.

now, disregarding one’s priorities or commitments to other people in favor of drugs can happen, & in many circumstances it’s harmful to the other people impacted. that’s not what was said here, & stopping that behavior does not require getting sober.

rapidly switching emotions around drugs. you love them but you hate that you love them so much. you hate the way you feel on them but you hate being sober. feeling guilty after using even when you didn't give a crap beforehand.

do you know what else i love but hate that i love, what else i hate using? my fucking bed. three years ago, my mobility scooter. this is not a logical argument, this is a bullshit argument. my feelings about something do not inherently reflect its harm to others – or to myself, even, though i firmly argue for the right to make “self-harmful” decisions regardless.

you know what people hate being on but hate worse being off? the vast fucking majority of medications.

why might a drug user start to feel guilty when they previously didn’t? being shamed by friends, family, or a fucking tumblr post; surpassing a constructed threshold of “acceptable” use they didn’t know they’d internalized; experiencing new or greater access issues; beginning to probe their morality around drugs & unpack things they were taught; experiencing consequences of criminalization; getting triggered.

caring less about spending money. if you are budgeting for drugs like they are food, you are likely prioritizing them more than is healthy.

“if you are budgeting for pain management like it’s as important as food, you are likely prioritizing it more than is healthy.” health is absolutely useless as a value for me anyway, but: the food’s no good if i’m too nauseous or too dead to eat it.

prioritizing drugs over other people’s financial needs is harmful! this wouldn’t happen if food & drugs were provided to people; some people wouldn’t need as many drugs if their needs were met otherwise; people’s needs being met shouldn’t be dependent on their parent / partner / self not using drugs; this harm is not what the bullet says.

getting high to do household chores and other unpleasant things because it would suck less and be more bearable on drugs

“things should suck. because god wills it i said so.”

feeling anxious or restless while sober, not knowing what to do with oneself, feeling lost or ungrounded.

again just. what’s the problem with that. so what if being sober sucks or is boring or stressful or demanding. so what if someone decides to deal with that sober or decides to use more because of that. who gives a shit.

thinking about doing drugs constantly even while sober. maybe it's the first thing you think of when you wake up. maybe when you're bored or otherwise have free time, drugs are one of the first things you can think of to occupy yourself with.

“thinking about getting better pain management constantly when you’re in pain”

i feel like you’re gonna tell me the only thing that can really take my pain away is jesus

again like. what is the problem with doing drugs because you’re bored. why do i need to occupy myself, what, fucking productively?

going to work or school while under the influence, especially if it happens regularly and if you're seeing your performance suffer as a result.

what’s wrong with going to school high. derailing a class discussion is a dick move, maybe, but that’s not inherent to being high. work & performance are both very broad terms – a surgeon or someone operating heavy machinery not being sober is putting others at risk of harm in a way a cashier is not.

the idea of taking a 'tolerance break' sounds good to you until it's actually break time, at which point you can come up with 20 very reasonable sounding points to explain why it wouldn't benefit you actually and you should just keep doing drugs regardless.

y’all think this is incredibly circular logic too right? “drugs are bad, so telling yourself drugs are not bad is proof that they’re bad.” took me right back to the sunday school classroom and i wish i was fucking exaggerating. it’s an argument founded upon the inherent wrongness of trusting yourself – what you want to do must be wrong because you want it. this is one of the points that’s a more solid indicator of, like, “congrats! you’re now in circumstances doctors are salivating to psychiatrize as XYZ Use Disorder,” but that doesn’t make it any less nonsense as a moral argument.

even if you succeed at quitting the drug, you keep your dealer's number on your phone "just in case"

so what. what’s wrong with giving yourself the continual autonomy to choose whether or not to do drugs. what’s wrong with quitting drugs for a while and starting using again.

you pretend to be sober when you aren't. you worry about other people noticing how much time you spend high. you make efforts to hide your drug use or minimize how much other people think you're using. you're scared of other people's judgement if they were to find out.

this one might be the most ludicrous to me, which is really saying something. “if other people being bigoted towards drug users makes you pretend to use less than you do, that’s your fault & not theirs.” cool! thanks for the quick heads up to not believe a word you say!

you have mood swings laced with self-hatred, regret, financial worries, and guilt. these mood swings are then very quickly wiped away by feelings of "but it doesn't matter, i can do what i want, and clearly i'm doing just fine while using drugs frequently". news flash, if you are rapidly switching between feeling numb-ok and hating yourself more than anything because of your drug use, you are mentally ill.

again, “the norm knows you better than you know yourself, you can’t listen to yourself, the body is wrong, wanting is wrong, pleasure is wrong, you are wrong wrong wrong.” but god, what a beautiful example of how oppression is psychiatrized: it’s not enough for the oppression to have worked, the system must then convince us that the effects of it working are our own fault. it’s not enough to just kill us with us fully aware of the knife, it’s gotta convince us we’re bleeding out for no reason. if you want any moments of pleasure during your miserable godforsaken little life you’d better put your nose back on the goddamn grindstone and repent. everything around you for your entire life has told you to hate yourself for your drug use but if the combined force of that violence works you are mentally ill, and that is the worst crime of all.

according to this post, when is it okay to use drugs, then? well, not planned into your day, and not at work or school, but not when you’re bored or have been thinking about it too much, and not if anyone who’d judge you or you don’t trust knowing you’re high or you just don’t want knowing is around, and not if you don’t want to quit, but also not if you’ve quit already. you have to hate your drug use otherwise that’s proof it’s attacked your ability to care but hating your drug use is proof you should stop. #JustSayNo

#& yes i wrote this stoned #substance use #drug use #addiction #drugs #long post #stigma #mac.txt

[littlerosette]

everlark/thg fic recs!

i just wanted to share some love with the fics that i find myself continuously going back to and enjoying <3

on the threshold by ghtlovesthg: by far my one of favorite “i know this would have happened anyway” fics. katniss and peeta’s relationship is adorable, and i really enjoy this author’s portrayal of smitten!katniss. it’s exactly how i imagine her and it’s adorable. they just like each other so much.

the heartrender by juniebugg: helnik!everlark au. i have a weakness for enemies to lovers and this more than hits the spot. the ending is gorgeous. stunning piece of writing.

the unrecorded hours by hollycomb: this fic has been praised to death but i am deeply obsessed with it. katniss and peeta felt very appropriately prickly and messy with each other, which i think fit considering where they’re at mentally post-mj. the ending was also so quintessentially Them.

which of your lives is this? by writingforhugs: this fic has way too few kudos for what a masterpiece it is. it’s katniss traveling through italy with peeta, and it’s pure, unadulterated escapism. the detail is so rich that it actually feels like you’re on the journey with them, and the chemistry is impeccable and so sexy. i adore this story.

hero of the story by atetheresmind: first of all, i love everything from this author. second of all, this story is amazing. “no games” fics are probably my favorite everlark fic subgenre and this one is written to perfection. katniss and peeta have an affair on their spouses and have to deal with the consequences when their relationship is discovered. the characterization is amazing and i love how the author handled the fallout. gorgeous story.

blowout by annieoakley1: age gap everlark fic and probably my favorite one. this story is so sexy and i love love love peeta and katniss’s relationship in it. katniss is so predictably Herself that it’s fun to watch her navigate a relationship she knows she’s gonna get shit for being in.

our little fires by brimay: a new fic and stunningly gorgeous. katniss and peeta fall in love before the reaping and their entire experience in the games is changed because of this. i adored the recurring theme where their love was the real rebellious act, their “little fire,” which i think struck so true to the heart of the actual trilogy. this story is amazing.

the project by ronja: unfinished but stellar. katniss and peeta’s bond is so sweet and their chemistry is amazing. it also helps that katniss is in a relationship with gale for a majority of the story, which lets you see how much she truly likes peeta compared to him. it was adorable to see them in a fake marriage scenario and they both relish in every bit of it. this story is “ivy” by taylor swift personified.

the hanging tree series by sparebitofparchment: this a peeta’s pov retelling. right now it’s on catching fire, but the writing is so so stellar. it’s perfectly angsty and beautiful, and flowery enough compared to katniss’s pov that it feels like you’re seeing everything through peeta’s eyes. gorgeous series.

and many graces by encroix: this is kind of exactly what i’m talking about when i say messy!everlark post mj. peeta and katniss are so desperate for each other but also so flawed and uncommunicative in their expectations that they end up hurting each other repeatedly. it’s beautiful and i love it. i cried multiple times reading it.

my heart is yours, and yours is mine by songbirdheart: the most enchanting, folksy, almost fairytale adjacent series ever. it truly is written with so much magic that it feels like a collection of short stories that you’d find in an old folktale book. every story is wonderful but i also have a particular fondness for the gadge one shot. it’s adorable and i love the way all the characters are written.

thg fic/non-everlark

where soul meets body by ellizablue: annie x finnick love story from her games to the aftermath of his death. wretchedly beautiful story. the writing is amazing and i cried several times reading this. it’s one of my absolute favorite fan fictions of all time and i reread it very frequently.

i’m yours to keep and i’m yours to lose by fkevin073: a modern snowbaird au where lucy gray and coryo are toxic exes who can’t leave each other the fuck alone. their mutual obsession and dysfunction was so fun to read and the pure, twisted soulmatery between them honestly was like a drug to me. i Love unhinged romantic leads.

the end of the world by fernwithy: this whole series is amazing but i was especially in love with this first installment. it’s a retelling of haymitch’s games and it’s amazingly done. haymitch feels appropriately brilliant, and watching him navigate the arena was gripping. i was unexpectedly touched by the relationship he develops with maysilee during this story. beautiful, gut-wrenching story.

#the hunger games #fic rec #everlark #odesta #gadge #snowbaird #among others

[quarterdollar]

SEVERELY obsessed with the character insight here. so obsessed that i typed a long-ass post of analysis, in which i support the argument that volo really isn’t a complete sociopath, he’s just a big emotional short-sighted hypocrite.

as we know, volo’s endgame goal is to subjugate arceus and recreate the world from scratch, implicitly so that whatever pain and heartbreak he’s experienced/witnessed no longer exists. this is of course an intentional parallel to cyrus’s desire to create a world without spirit in response to the emotional pain he experienced in his childhood. while we do not have a concrete explanation on what exactly the painful events volo experienced were like we do with cyrus, he talks about them enough that it’s clear that they impacted him significantly. that is to say i think he’s expressing his thoughts and feelings sincerely when he brings the topic up, he isn’t lying or trying to misdirect you in any way in regards to that.

i bring this up because a big portion of cyrus’s character that to this day flies over many fans’ heads is that he is defined by ironies and hypocrisies. he wishes for a world devoid of any emotions specifically because he is dominated by them—he confesses as much during his rant in the distortion world:

cyrus also famously has a crobat on his team, which evolves through high friendship, despite his steadfast belief that spirit—of which friendship is undoubtedly a part—is an ugly, vague, incomplete thing. in addition to this, usum all but explicitly confirms that the journal of a child who befriended a rotom was written by him. so, in conclusion, cyrus has a heart and is easily swayed by good emotions as well as bad.

so now we come to volo’s new dialogues in pokemon masters. i think that they have made it clearer that like cyrus’s emotional actions, his obsessions with history & preserving memories through photographs are meant to be genuine hypocrisy on his part, rather than intentional obfuscation of intent. think about it—a man who’s dominated by curiosity & love for history also claims to want to remake the world so utterly that all of that history is rendered completely destroyed. yet even in the depths of his post-defeat breakdown he still maintains that defining curiosity of his:

and now i ask, what is curiosity, if not an expression of love for the world around you? despite claiming to want to destroy the current world and all evidence of its existence, volo also still wants to know absolutely everything about it, past and present. it’s inherently contradictory. and this brings me to the recurring themes in his pokemas dialogue: how he not only appreciates photographs as a way to create a tangible record of history, but as a way “to capture and isolate the best moments”. those happy moments worth holding onto and looking back on in the future. see also the photograph of him and togepi in the original game, never commented on, taken for no apparent reason other than the fun of it—or more specifically, as these dialogues suggest, to isolate that moment in time in a tangible form. that is an act of love and of sentiment.

so, what’s the conclusion i’m getting at here? well, because of the ambiguity of his character in the base game. i’ve seen that volo is often interpreted as being a manipulative sociopath motivated solely by his desire for control. everything he does before the postgame is entirely a lie, absolutely none of the facade was genuine, etc. and don’t get me wrong, he is a control freak with a god complex! he does railroad the player into doing what he wants! he is not honest and he is not a good person. but, i think there is very much an intentional irony to him the same way there is with cyrus, in that his road to hell was paved with good intentions. he has the capacity for genuine kindness and i personally believe that his descent into villainy was spurred entirely by an earnest appreciation for the world around him and a desire to eliminate suffering.

as a closing statement, i want to bring up a quote from volo himself regarding calaba of the pearl clan:

i don’t think it’s that volo feels nothing for his pokemon or for the people around him—rather, i think he simply loves the world very, very much.

#pkmn musings #pokemon #pla #volo #pokemas #the consummate merchant

[writing-for-life]

Art by Michael Zulli

Fellow art lovers, we need to talk about this one…

I love Zulli (as many of you might have noticed by now), but this one’s got me stumped. Because we know everything in his art has meaning, up to the tiniest detail.

What am I looking at here? We see the ruins again, which are a recurring theme in Zulli’s work (e.g. in the painting with Dream, Death and Hob. I’ll talk about that one separately soon because I think interpretations have been “retconned” a bit to make it fit what people want to see in the show, instead of looking at the deeper symbolism).

But what are the ruins referencing in this case? And what is he wearing? What time reference/frame are we looking at? Medieval (the sort of over tunic makes one think so)? Why the holes in his trousers?

This one is hovering on that eerie spectrum between court jester and priest garb-wise, and I’m trying to make sense of it. I even thought about archetypes and tarot cards, the Fool and the Hierophant/High Priest specifically. The latter might not be as obvious to some, but as a lapsed Catholic and now resident family heathen, I can’t look at the green/purple overtunic and not see a priest’s stole/chasuble and cincture. Green is for pretty ordinary times, but purple is always lent and passiontide, sacrament of reconciliation and the dead. And the fact there’s also a lot of red in there (Good Friday, all the martyr’s days), but no white unless we count the holes (white would be actual Easter and the resurrection) also makes me think. Quite possibly overthink 🤣

The Fool is always the protagonist of the story (oh, Morpheus would not agree with that, but of course we all know he has his own story, even if he pretends he doesn’t). And he then goes on his journey. And apparently falls apart (ruins and tattered clothes)?

The Hierophant gives me connotations of the balance between law/rules and freedom (many decks even have symbols for that in the actual card). It also makes me think of righteousness, keeping things in order, sometimes captivity.

And all of these make sense in certain ways. As does the sunset/autumnal feel. This one is really, really interesting, and I feel there’s more in there.

What is everyone thinking?

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #sandman #neil gaiman #michael zulli #sandman x art #sandman art analysis #the sandman analysis #sandman meta #<<<in a very roundabout way

[archie-sunshine]

What’s five kinks you go feral over

God i have too many kinks- fuck. ANYWAYs. Rodimus is our lucky little model for tonight to show off some of the ways i am depraved and horny.

EDGING

I feel like this is super self explanatory. You know my track record, you know who I am, you know what I'm about. I LOVE this kink, I love writing it, I love drawing it. I think it's really fun to see how long you can make a character do this before they start to get loopy, which will be a recurring theme in this list tbh-

2. HUMILIATION

If you've read Survey Says-! you know why this is here. I LOVE putting characters in distress, I love making them all embarrassed and stuff. degradation goes hand in hand here, same with some of my enjoyment of free use and stuff. I especially like rodimus for this kink because of how proud he is, taking him down a peg is very satisfying in my opinion. I generally think in any situation any form of distress is always pretty fun and sexy to mess around with.

3. HYPNOSIS

Okay another obvious one. Technically I could make this category a lot more general because I enjoy all sorts of alternative mental states. I like heats, I like sex pollen, I enjoy drunk/high sex(SOMETIMES), i also just enjoy characters becoming stupider via sex. sex drunkeness is what its called i think?? but anyhow, hypnosis is big for me, I like the relaxation, the slowness, sorta letting the character get lost in the sauce of the situation. Oh and reprogramming to do sexy tasks is always fun.

4&5. BONDAGE/BDSM & OVERSTIMULATION

I got a little lazy here. I really enjoy all sorts of bdsm style stuff, it feels almost too general to include here but I love the bondage, I love the servitude and power dynamics, I really enjoy painplay and teasing and just general sexual bullying. Overstimulation goes hand in hand with this, I think. I enjoy the helplessness and distress rendered from being tied down and teased until your mind goes blank.

SO YEAH!! thanks for joining me for another round of archie exposes way way way too much stuff about himself for the internet!!! there are obviously a ton of others aside from this, if you have specifics to ask me about, id love to fill an ask about it since i did a big inbox clean today :]

[Feeling nosy? shoot me an ask in my inbox!]

#my art #archie answers #my requests #mtmte #valveplug #rodimus #transformers #/nsfw #/nsft #lemon #minimus ambus #minirod #ultra magnus #rodimags #hypnosis

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week's writer spotlight feature is: @lexirosewrites! They have forty-four Stranger Things and forty-three Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!!

An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by lexirosewrites:

24-Hour Diner

On Thin Ice

And the Sun will Rise

Bandaids for the Heart

Waking Up In Vegas

A/B/O isn't for everyone, but Lexi writes it in a way that it IS. I've always been a fan of the trope, but Lexi writes A/B/O in a way that expands beyond the basics. They've expanded their universes to play with common A/B/O themes in ways I've never seen -- each one feels fresh and exciting. And yes, they're popular in their own right, but they have so many hidden gems!! I just adore them and the work they've done beyond the tropes and tags. They put so much work into their stories and building their community, pushing through all the fandom bullshit to bring joy to their bubble of fandom. They're easily my go-to author rec for anyone getting into steddie and/or A/B/O and they deserve all of the love!! And if you're seeing this Lexi, thank you for continuing to create and share your beautiful ideas with us. ♥ - anonymous

Below the cut, @lexirosewrites answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I love the chemistry that Steve and Eddie have. They’re two people who make no sense together and yet they make so much sense together? They have a good mix of parental issues and they’re on opposite sides of the social spectrum, which makes for a lot of fun exploring their relationship.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m a sucker for soulmate fics. They’re my true weakness in life.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I love to write about mutual pining. I enjoy making it clear that both parties are pining and suffering under the delusion that their feelings are unrequited.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is such a hard question. I don’t read as much as I used to, but the one I reread the most is “Consummate Professional” by Eddywow for sure. It’s just a cute fic and the smut is A+ as well!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve worked through most of my favorite tropes at this point, but I’m excitedly planning a timeloop fic set in the omegaverse.

What is your writing process like?

It’s a bit of a mess, truthfully. I start with unorganized bullet points to brainstorm things I think will happen in the fic and slowly arrange that into a real plot with actual events and not just some loose threads of a story. Then, I just go chapter by chapter to put them in order and make changes as necessary after that.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I write omegaverse fics almost exclusively. Which I’d say probably qualifies as a quirk! I also just have a habit of writing recurring themes in many of my works. For the most part, they all have angst, lots of pining and miscommunication, and a perfectly cozy happy ending with a big bow on it.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Oh, I hate waiting. The moment a chapter or fic is done and someone has at least skimmed it over for big issues, it gets formatted and posted. The only times I wait are for events like the Big Bang or a gift for someone’s birthday!

Which fic are you most proud of?

“Bandaids for the Heart” is the work closest to my heart because I’m a nurse and I got to use my love for nursing to write about my job and craft a whole story out of it. I’m very proud of how it turned out and the fact that I finished it despite some personal challenges along the way.

How did you get the idea for 24-Hour Diner?

I actually got an ask on tumblr with the prompt that inspired me to write it!

When writing 24-Hour Diner, what was something you didn’t expect?

I actually have a longer Mafia AU fic and I was worried they’d end up being too similar, but I enjoyed finding little ways to distinguish it as its own fic.

What inspired On Thin Ice?

I love to ice skate and a friend in my discord server was gushing about HexieWrites’ “Carve Your Name Into My Chest,” which made me want to explore my figure skating background.

What was your favorite part to write from On Thin Ice?

There’s a scene where Steve gets injured and Eddie has to carry him off the rink. Every story has at least one “that’s the scene I really want to write!” and that was the one for this fic. I love some good hurt/comfort!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

That’s so hard to narrow down, but I’d have to say that it’s a scene from my fic “Bad Beat,” where Steddie are at prom and Eddie pulls out a granola bar from his tux pocket because he knows Steve likes them… even as Steve is fully planning on pranking him for a bet. It’s a heartbreaking scene and I think about it a lot.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’ve got lots of upcoming fics, but I can’t share most of the titles yet since they’re gifts! However, I have a The Greatest Showman inspired fic called “A Million Dreams” that’s getting posted in early January!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’m honestly so grateful to have the support that I do for how niche most of my fics are. Most people in the Steddie community have been incredibly kind to me and I really appreciate it, even if omegaverse isn’t their cup of tea. I’m just here to have fun and make new friends!

Thank you to our author, @lexirosewrites, and our nominator! See more of @lexirosewrites' work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #lexirosewrites

[autistichalsin]

@mewhoismyself reminded me of an excellent, important point, in their reply to this post; they said

Doesn’t Halsin only refer to his drow captors as *captors* if the player threatens to send him back? Like- that’s so sad!! And a lot of players would completely miss it if they were trying to romance and *be nice* to him! Such a price for healing...! ;-;

And yes, you are absolutely correct!

In all other dialogue paths, Halsin continues to refer to them as hosts, or he talks around it. The closest he gets is saying "the house that held me" fell out of favor and was attacked. Only if the player (who must be a Lolth Drow for this option to appear) chooses "so the mighty bear is an escaped pet, then. I wonder if there is a reward for your return..." does Halsin acknowledge them as captors, immediately snapping, "you would be unwise to attempt it, trust me. In any case, the house of my captors is long-extinct. Interesting... part of me still thought of them as hosts, but I suppose captors is indeed more accurate."

This is interesting, because it carries a lot of implications- but what sticks out to me is that this is both a very real and relatable thing for a lot of survivors, and something that never gets talked about. So many of us walk around with internalized self-blaming attitudes, but then... something hits different when you hear someone else verbalize those deep, painful, hurtful things. Human instinct is to protect oneself from those kinds of accusations, and so it is for Halsin, and the threat breaks something. Because it's one thing to tell himself that they were simply hosts and that what happened wasn't that bad, but it's another for someone else to say it and take it a step further by threatening to send him back.

It breaks through something, in the worst way. By making the threat, the player has made it Real again. It's not a distant memory anymore, and it's not something he can make into a comfortable fantasy; it's a real threat now, even if they are dead, because now someone knows and has indicated they would send him to face it again, given the chance*. By making it Real, Halsin is now forced to see the situation for what it was, but he pretended wasn't for all these years; that his life was in peril, that he suffered, that he didn't want it, and that he was a captive, not a guest, not a novelty.

The only way to get Halsin to admit what his captors were is to threaten him and trigger him, which is truly heartbreaking. It's like how one of the ways to get Halsin to show the depths of his care for the player/their relationship, and his real emotions, the most is by acting in an emotionally abusive manner by repeatedly saying they want to break up with him, and then changing his mind; doing this is one of the few times Halsin will show his hurt at the player's hurtful actions, as after the first time, he'll start saying things like, "does it please you to see me look crestfallen? That is the only reason I can think of that you might toy with my heart like this," and "perhaps you care less for me than I supposed..." and "why would you test my patience like this? Sometimes, it is difficult to love you."

Here, too, one of the only ways to make Halsin express that he is hurt, and that the player is wrong in hurting him, and that he does NOT deserve and should not have to accept such treatment, (and one of the few ways to make him lose significant amounts of approval at once, besides committing literal murder, and one of the rare times this is on his own behalf) is by acting cruel and abusive to him. He will quietly and stoically accept so much other cruel treatment, but this is one of those rare times you can see what a deeply vulnerable person he is. It's a recurring theme with him, and it's heartbreaking; "does it please you to see me look crestfallen?" made me tear up.

There is a subtext to that statement- just as there is for "sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings cannot be hurt." This isn't the kind of statement that comes out of nowhere. This is what arises after being hurt. Quite possibly more than once. Halsin has likely been deeply hurt by people he loved and trusted before.

There's so many layers of sadness to Halsin's character, both in the plot and in a meta sense. The way there's so many heavy implications of him being let down by so many people, affecting his attachment style, and yet that there's so few chances to validate and comfort and reassure him over this, is one of the saddest parts to me. Instead, we get far more chances to be cruel than kind, and most of his most raw, powerful character moments come when the player is cruel. It's brilliant writing, but it makes my heart ache.

*This, the monstrosity of that dialogue choice and the way Halsin acts, is why I am nearly-offended that Halsin doesn't break up with the player on the spot if they choose this option; he doesn't even lose approval. I feel that he should lose at LEAST 10 approval, to match him losing 5 approval for every time (after the first) the player starts to break up with him him and then changes their mind. I love the updated scene to bits, it fixes so many of the mistakes that they made at first, but I feel like saying something this horrible to Halsin should cause him to end things between them immediately.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[holybibly]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 10.1k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣ Chapter 1: Memento Mori ❣

Have you ever thought about death?

How many times have you asked yourself, “What will happen to us next?” “Is there something on the other side?” “Will we see the shining light at the end of the tunnel and the white-winged angels, or is it just darkness waiting for us?”

We constantly reflect on this, sitting in the noisy company of friends, frozen for a moment in cold numbness; late at night, when there is no sleep and gloomy thoughts creep into your head; on the subway, bus, or taxi returning home from work or school, desperately understanding the desperation of their situation; recurring days in endless solitude.

We should stop doing that. When the time comes, we will ask ourselves other, more important questions.

Nevertheless, we tirelessly continue to be interested in it. Again and again, until our clock stops.

Sometimes I think all we have after we die are flowers and regrets. In our soul, heart, and mind, every second, there are many events that do not obey any rules of formal logic. All that we lose at death. There is no longer the privilege of choice that we had in life; now we have to settle for small, choking on despair and memories, staring into our own reflection on a silver epitaph.

“Our love will stay with her forever.” It would sound like a dream if it weren’t such a dirty lie.

I don’t think love exists. It’s like a sweetener: we feel sweetness, but the brain realizes it's fake, sending out red signals warning of deception. But we still desperately crave this feeling, however painful it may be.

And yet, after death, our lives go on, and in some special cases, we find ourselves more alive than ever before.

It's our time to watch as the new story unfolds, and the usual roles are played by other actors. New names appear on the waiting list, and celebratory ribbons are given to the new queens. See how fake diamonds sparkle in their luxurious crowns. Despite that, you’re the star of this show. Your name is in the news, in the bold headlines on the front pages of newspapers, and every casual passer-by claims to have known you personally while you still existed in a small, closed time period called life.

So what does it feel like to be the only spectator in the front row? The main subject of general regret.

In our cooled consciousness, a sharp conviction of our own uselessness is born and settles. Friends we used to call the best put your stuff in boxes with ribbons of tape. A family that tears the remnants of your life apart, erasing your name from the family register with a sickeningly straight line of black ink. Acquaintances and colleagues, always smiling with an astringent sweetness that glues their teeth, easily remove your number from the contact list and open their palms in a welcoming gesture to those who came to take your place.

All of them, all these people close to us, express their false regrets about your untimely departure, putting a tick in front of the memorized phrase: “Ah, we are so sorry. She was young and beautiful.” Is that what they usually say?

That’s all; our race for popularity is over. The rules of good manners and standards of appearance no longer matter. Your thoughts, actions, and preferences belong only to you, and at this very moment, we feel freedom. Short time, but still freedom.

It is only a short moment until the lid of the coffin closes completely over us. And here we are, face to face with our past, alone.

As hard as it may be for us to admit it, it's true. All that remains for us after death is regret.

Each of us has our own. Someone feels regret for the love that he could not protect and the loved ones that he has lost forever. We regret the things we’ve done and the words we haven’t said, but most of all, we regret the time we’ll never get back.

The dead mourn more than the living.

Besides regrets, we’re taking flowers with us. Yes, these beautiful creatures are leaving with us to one day wrap around our bones, sever the grayish subtlety of our skin, and grow again above the ground, eating us like a parasite. 

The flowers also symbolize the grand finale of our celebration. When the music dies down and the curtain falls, they will be the only ones who will stay side by side while the guests leave the lavishly decorated hall one by one.

Have you noticed how many bouquets are brought to cemeteries?

I like to think of it as a peculiar payment for our rest. Maybe death is as in love with these deliciously fragile things as we are, and that’s why they’re leaving with us. Silent companions who hold our hand as we go into the darkness.

The path to the origins of the great Sanzu River is paved with bloody lycoris and mournful lilies. Truly a magnificent sight. Ugly and beautiful are two sides of the same coin.

When I was little, Mina told me many different stories. Some warmed my cheeks and stretched my lips in a happy smile; others were gray, like days with incessant downpours. I wrapped myself in blankets and warmed my palms with warm cups of herbal tea, but there were other stories that I didn't want to remember until now.

They were sinister, like a spider hovering on a web waiting to be sacrificed. The words were sharp; they pierced the skin, leaving long, stinging wounds. Meaning has always been terrible; like a blade in the tongue, it could not be swallowed and understood. I was afraid. I was scared to death. I could not sleep in the light of a bright day or in the mist of a starry night; in the coziness of the blankets, there was no warmth or protection, and the mocking laughter of Mina made it worse.

My grandmother scolded her and assured me that all this was nonsense, empty words, and legends formed from idleness, but I knew better. There was truth in Mina's stories, and the realization of this only made them scarier.

The most terrible of them was the story of a young man in black silk robes. Beneath the black veil was a sensual smile, and the fox's heterochromic eyes were alluring and sparkling like stars.

Was he a nine-tailed kumiho? A black reaper holding death itself on a leash? He may have been a vampire, desperate and thirsty, but personally, I was sure he was a ghost. A past woven into a single canvas, thread by thread, stitch by stitch. I think I saw him once, during the Lunar Festival. He was the center of my little universe, the otherworldly and inexplicable, his long black clothes flowing to the ground like a waterfall, and the diffused light of the treacherous moon embraced his silhouette like a caring mother’s embrace.

I thought the world was dancing around him. The children were running around laughing and circling like butterflies in the round dance; the couple were whispering nicely, their palms intertwined tightly, as if it would save them from the inevitable parting; and the others were simply enjoying the festival time, waiting for the sheaves of colorful fireworks to explode in the sky.

His eyes pierced my figure so greedily and sharply. I saw hunger in them. A thirst. A goal. 

And then I screamed. So loud and disgusting in a childish way. With a shrill screech, I rushed into the crowd, hoping to find Mina. The colorful ribbons in my hair rushed into the air, and the wind bore me the echoes of his sweet laughter.

He was mocking me. I could have run, but he could have caught me in a second if he wanted to. For a moment, I looked back to make sure that he was still standing there, covered with moonlight and a myriad of stars, but the long, flowing silk of his black robes melted like a mist in the night without leaving a trace.

Mina laughed mockingly as I clung to the lush skirts of her violaceous hanbok, sobbing, choking with tears, and pointing my finger in the direction where I saw the young man with the fox’s eyes.

After that incident, I didn’t sleep for days, couldn’t eat, and was afraid of every noise.

From that night on, I began to believe in ghosts. They are among us. We can see them, reach them, and hear their whispering voices. Science cannot explain them; they are not subject to it. They are mistakenly called fictions, twisted forms of memories that acquire real outlines and are indistinguishable from the real world.

Science calls it imagination; I call it another form of life. Ghosts exist. They’re always there.

The line between the dead and the living is thin and fragile. If you push it a little harder, it’ll shatter.

It’s true—life after death exists.

I was told once that death is like being submerged in water. First, the lungs start to burn from a lack of oxygen; the body gets heavier; the eyes are baking, but we’re still conscious; and the brain continues to function. Then comes the next step. Our body desperately clings to life, continuing to contract the heart muscle. Bam, bam, bam. Deaf blows on the rib. If you start acting now, there is little hope of salvation. No more than a minute. And then, after that, there’s the final stage. Clinical death. Smooth stripe on the monitor.

Our sinking is over. We have reached the bottom. We have met eternity in the muddy depths, blended with the muddy sand and pearls.

That may be true, but for me, death is no more than a moment—until the last flowers on the grave fade.

I never thought about dying. Until it happens to Mina.

The first time I met death, it was with my first breath. I was born with silence—too small, too fragile, and painfully quiet.

Then there were the piercing sounds of medical devices and the screams of doctors and assistants. I was taken away instantly and carried far into the sterile, transparent box. Death retreated, but it didn’t go away.

I was only three when my parents died. Mina was squeezing my hands and talking about a long journey. Grandma took us to her old country house, where secrets were hidden and hyacinths blossomed. At the time, the very concept of grief was not clear and tangible to me; rather, the feeling was like frostbite, when the skin was already dead, but the pain was absent.

So I knew death before I even knew it.

My grandmother died suddenly. Her life was cut short in an instant, like a thread brought to the flame. I knew it; it seemed long before it happened. That summer, I was going to be at a ballet camp, and Mina was the star of the school, and she was planning on spending time with her cheerleading friends. Just one call changed all our plans. Short skirts and ballet points replaced chrysanthemums and black ribbons. Mina was grieving, taking condolences, while I watched from the sidelines. Grandma's leaving seemed like a dull pain from an old injury rather than a sharp cut, and it was easier to deal with than I thought.

This was the third time I'd known death.

And then Mina happened.

The passionate, bloody, grandiose Mina's death. By closing my eyes, I could see her face again. White, sun-drenched, and blood roses, her long fluttering eyelashes, and scattered carmine strands of hair.

She was not at all afraid to die, as if this scenario had been memorized by her. Isn't it an innate instinct, a fear of the unknown, of death? We are frightened by monsters under the bed and horrors lurking in dark corners. We must be afraid of death. We are obliged to do this from the very moment we are born.

Mina was not afraid. She was never afraid of anything, unlike me.

Spiders, darkness, roses…

The list goes on.

When she died, I realized two things: one, nothing lasts forever, and two, I wanted to know what happened to my sister and what became her trigger. Big red button. At my request, an autopsy was conducted to rule out a drug-induced hypothesis that could have caused mental and emotional distress. Forensics found nothing in her lungs except rose petals. Mina literally breathed flowers. It sounded almost fantastical to me. Even her death was beautiful. Forever the first violin in the orchestra. 

The case of her mysterious disappearance was closed. There was no point in looking for someone who was already dead. I asked the detectives to continue the investigation, but despite my desperate pleas, the police were adamant. My sister’s once-radiant life was packaged in a pair of cardboard boxes with a large-scale signature in black marker. “An Mina, case 117”. With each passing day, everything about Mina sank into darkness, but the mysteries and secrets around her only grew larger.

Once upon a time, I could call Mina an open book. It was easy to read—all the emotions, character traits, and habits—everything in it was exaggerated; there was no middle. Her love was never a simple hobby; it was always sharp, risky, and passionate.

Perhaps that is why she so easily fell into an obsession with roses; her feelings took a dangerous path.

I wanted to know who gave her these fabulous roses, who sent her candy and little sweet notes. There was something wrong with all of this, and not just the fact that the lush pink buds didn’t fade. No. It was a feeling, something very ominous, like a calm before a hurricane. A frightening, unnatural silence when all is silent and the air is gathering in front of the thunder's stunning storms.

There’s a long, unrequited tranquility on the other side of the phone line.

In the Japanese language, there is the expression “koi no yokan,” which literally means the feeling of inevitable love for the person you first met. This is not love at first sight, but a premonition of future love. So it was with these roses; they were not evil as such, but they were the inevitable omen of his coming.

True evil does not come in the form of a little red man with sharp horns and a long tail. Evil is beautiful—almost religiously magnificent. His appearance is divine and seductive, attracting the sweetness of the forbidden. Of course, the Devil himself was once an angel. And not just anyone; he was God’s favorite.

So are these flowers. I’ve never heard of people falling in love with soft petals and spiny stems. No one ever sings strange prayers for roses and dedicates his life to them without a trace. Those roses were bigger than they looked.

I think that Mina’s death was not accidental; it wasn’t suicide. Something broke her, violated her mind, and eventually destroyed her. Whether they were roses or people who gave them, that was my question. It was a secret hidden in the white folds of her lace dress, the dreamy smiles, and the names she spoke with such awe.

During Mina's funeral, I was approached by one of the lawyers who handled her legal affairs. I had to sort out the property rights and the lots of pages with numbers, dates, and places. Mina left me not only secrets but also a great legacy. As it turned out, in addition to our common apartment, she had several other assets in her possession, including her grandmother's mansion, which at one time she received as a sole inheritance, shares in various companies, and investments abroad.

I am now the sole owner of all this.

I had no idea where to start looking for answers or where to find the keys to the secret locks. Maybe I can find something in her files between the lines and the capital letters, or maybe it’s all dry formalities. So, going to the lawyer sounded like a good start to me.

How many can hide from those who command our last will?

Even so, I didn't want to be alone with Mina's secrets if I could find something in her belongings. I decided to call Soomin, who was once Mina’s best friend, the closest, to be exact. She was always there, having fun and crying with Mina, supporting and comforting when needed. Soomin was an integral part of her life. My life.

After the incident with the roses, they split up, not on the best of terms. Their conversation completely ended, but I still continued to spend time with her, and we often went to brunch at various gourmet cafés that Soomin loved so much. She was an elite restaurateur and had great taste, not only in the interior but also in food.

In a way, she completely replaced my sister. Soomin always told me, “No orgasm can ever match a stunningly cooked fondant au chocolat”. Yeah, I could totally agree with her on that.

After dialing her number, I waited for an answer. The wait was not too long, and after the second tone, I heard the melodic voice of Soomin on the other side. “Hello” “Soomin, I'm sorry to distract you from work; can you give me a few minutes?

“Sarang? I can’t believe you finally called me. How are you feeling, honey? I’ve been really worried about you, you haven’t spoken to any of us all this time.” In her voice, there was a sincere concern that resembled a mother's. 

Soo has always been so caring and gentle. In her was the same fascinating brightness that Mina possessed, which brought them very close and became the strong foundation of their friendship, but unlike Mina, who resembled a raging forest fire, Soomin was a comforting flame of home. One was ready to destroy everything around her; the other collected ashes in beautiful vases and kept them as precious memories.

After Mina died, she was there for me when I especially needed support.

“Sorry, Soomin, I’m still trying to get over it." I sounded exhausted, even to myself. The days spent in voluntary isolation completely drained me emotionally and physically. I was the alarm of danger light for my friends. “You know, when she went missing, it was hard for me, but I was still hoping she’d come back. I convinced myself that Mina was fine and that she was enjoying life surrounded by her favorite roses.” It was the first time I had spoken openly about my feelings since Mina’s death. “I never imagined that my sister would slit her throat in front of me. I still have nightmares, Soomin, but I’m calling you for another reason, I have a little favor to ask you.”

“Sarang, you should feel like this; it’s okay. What happened to Mina traumatized you; damn it, it would have traumatized anyone if they were you. We agreed to give you time to get over it at your own pace, but when you didn’t answer our messages and calls, we started to worry. Eun Jung even offered to come to you several times; you know how she is.” She was anxious, and I understood why. “I’ll help with everything I need; just tell me how I can do it.”

“You agree too quickly, Soo.”

“Sarang, please stop. The only thing I can offer you now is my help. I can’t imagine how you’re handling all this, and if you need my help, I’ll be there for you. So stop denying me and tell me what you wanted to ask.”

“Do you remember Mina’s lawyer who approached me at the funeral? I think it’s time I met him. It’s all about inheritance and property, but there’s something else.” I started off insecure. “I want to find out who sent her those stupid roses.”

“Why?” in her voice sounded like sincere surprise. “If you were me, would you want to know how it all started?”

“Probably, but aren't you afraid? Judging by how it turned out for Mina,” she stammered for a second. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“No, you’re right. Absolutely. I’m scared, and if things weren’t so messed up, maybe I would have done something different, but listen, Soomin, I have a strong feeling that I’m always missing something, and it’s bothering me.” “People don't change so dramatically, and certainly not because of the roses. You've been friends with her for so long, so you know her as well as I do, and we both understand that it's crazy to give up everything in your life for roses like that. Especially for Mina.” When I spoke my thoughts out loud, I was even more convinced that I needed answers. It really was crazy. “ She left so many secrets that I want to find a clue. I haven't told anyone, but the roses are still being sent. I received a call from the cemetery administration saying that her grave was littered with flowers, and they needed to figure out what to do with them. Not only that, but I also received several bouquets.” There was no point in hiding it anymore. If I want Soomin to help me, she needs to know about those roses that were sent to me.

“My God, Sarang, you should have told me right away. Did you talk to JiHo? This is an abnormal situation. What if you’re being chased, Sarang? I don’t know, it’s all so scary.”

“You have no idea, but I don’t think we should talk about stalking.”

“Why? Maybe it’s a stalker or serial killer; you should be careful. Please tell me JiHo is living with you now.” “First, I don’t think anyone in their right mind is going to come after me, and second, JiHo and I took a pause.”

“Did you break up?” she asked with an incredulous echo.

“I'm not sure if you can call it a breakup.”

“God, the bastard left you. I always told you he was a rare asshole and would run away at the first opportunity.”

“Soomin, let’s not talk about it, but if you want to hear it, yeah, you were right about him.” The memories of our conversation with my ex were still fresh and festering in my mind like a ball of worms.

It’s very convenient to hide behind phrases like “let’s take a break,” “you need time to figure things out,” “emotional vacation,” etcetera. No one wants to be a part of your grief. At this party, the cake belongs entirely to you.

“Okay, let’s close the JiHo thing. Tell me, do you know anything about who sent the roses? Any ideas?”

“Absolutely nothing; I’m stuck. There’s nothing that can help. No address, no sender’s name, Maybe we can find something in her files or stuff; I don’t know.”

“Yes, it’s possible. When do you want to go to a lawyer?”

“This Friday, if you’re free?”

“Give me a minute,” the papers rustled on the other side, Soomin clearly trying to find the day she needed in her diary. Knowing the nature of Soo, it was difficult to make out anything there; her records were always chaotic, and careful planning was not her forte. In this, too, she was similar to Mina.

“I’m totally free. How about going to brunch first and then to the lawyer?

You could use some fun, and I’ve always wanted to go to this new trending place. I hear they serve incredible fondant au chocolate, and the owner looks like God cut him out. How does that sound? “First, tell me, are we going there for the fondant or the owner?”

“You can’t judge me; everyone’s talking about how attractive this man is; I just want to see.” Soo softly dissipated.

“Have you betrayed your love of chocolate for a man? Kim Soomin is something new. Anyway, everything sounds great. Let’s go and see if those rumors are true, but if I were going there solely for the chocolate,” I smiled at that thought. I’ve really been lacking in communication lately. We should start coming back to the real world. “Do you know the address?” “Sure, I’ll pick you up at 11:00. Please wear something prettier than a black dress.” “It’s a classic, and thank you again, Soo.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, Sarang. Finally, I can call you like that, you know, Rosa, it doesn’t suit you. I’ll see you Friday, baby.”

“I think so, too. Until Friday.” I put the phone aside, taking a deep breath. The long stems of white roses had folded in half in the cramped bin. A luxurious wrapping in a rare shade of Solferino and embroidered topaz ribbons lay next to the bulky pile, and a small note was shrunk into a perfect ball that was also lying in the trash.

Whoever sent those flowers should have stopped doing that. I’m not Mina. I don’t like roses.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

How quickly does the waiting time pass? We count the days, the hours, and the minutes until the exciting event we’re expecting, circled by a thick red line in the calendar, but is it really worth our time, which life has measured for us?

It's so strange; the days are like bottles of sand thrown by a restless ocean onto a flickering glass bank. I remember this one, crystal blue—it smells like strawberry cheesecake and summer heat. And this one, made of gloss and pearls, is full to the brim with grave earth and chrysanthemum petals. I like the one that sparkles with diamonds from the royal frosted glass; it smells like a lover’s pillow, and there are memories of the first love. There is another, very ordinary, and therefore the most precious—empty and at the same time full. If you open it, you can hear the gentle wind whispering your name.

My life is all about memories now. I’m just trying to keep what’s left.

The rest of the week passed unnoticed by me. Time, like the rapid trains at the station, rushed by, and I kept waiting to see the stop I needed in this incessant turmoil.

Existing in space is very simple when it belongs only to you. I did actions that were memorized to the finest detail, simple mechanisms that gradually brought me back to my normal state. Feed the neighbor’s cat. Do the cleaning. Go for a walk. Check the mail. Cook dinner. Ordinary things to take your mind off the colorful bottles on the shelves of consciousness and the endless cycle of nightmares.

And I also noticed that at night, time flows more slowly. Second by second, replace the glowing dial until dawn. And so on until the ruthless rays of the sun insidiously penetrate between the tightly woven threads of heavy boudoir curtains, and the golden shadow spills over the pampered skin like boiling water.

I think I'm allergic to the sun and, therefore, to the stars.

Maybe the whole world.

Today I woke up earlier than usual. Somewhere below the horizon, the sun splashed in the golden ichor of the predawn twilight. Yoru stretched out at the foot of the bed, warmed by tiny drops of warm light that seeped into the room through the window. Last night, she refused to leave, stubbornly ignoring my presence and my tender pleas to return home to her mistress.

Yoru was my neighbor’s cat, perfectly embodying all its best features: a slightly aggressive, capricious, and having a little bit of arrogance. Despite this, she had a strange affection for me and often stayed at my house if she was in the mood.

Other tenants avoided Yoru, considering her a bad omen, and it was not only the polished glossiness of her black fur; she always appeared where death later came. I didn't care; I've always loved cats, and having one of them in my house was a bit of comfort. I wasn't alone.

Sensing my awakening, her almond-shaped eyes flashed with the sharp color of precious stones in the slits of the eyelids—a thick amber glow, not yet warmed by curiosity or playfulness. Yoru tossed and turned, clearly unhappy that someone had disturbed her sleep, arched her back and closed her eyes again.

We could lie like this all day long, in silence and some strange harmonization. I’m sure she’ll get close to me a little bit later, calculating her every move, until he presses on his heart with a peaceful, relaxed purr. Unfortunately, today was not the day I could afford it. Soomin will soon be here, and I need to get a little tidy.

Shower. Food. Simple things. Jars of creams and neatly arranged lipsticks Are there certain rules of appearance when you go to a lawyer? What dress should I wear—a deep neckline or open legs? How decent?

Should I still look mournful? Should I wear a veil? Two months have passed; are other colors acceptable? What will he think of me?

So many questions were spinning in my head while I was going, and it seems to me that whatever I choose, it will still be inappropriate. The story of Mina was not a passing affair; probably everyone in the city had fleetingly heard about her death. One of my friends told me she was called “Queen of Roses” because of the flowers in her hair, and I saw the headlines of the “exquisite death” articles.

The black color dripped venomously to the floor with the long hems of the dresses in my wardrobe; the gray, like a mist, settled in the loops of cardigans and oversized sweaters; and the ghostly white terrified me with thin transparent lace and ruffles, just like on Mina's dress. The choice was not too large.

A jacket dress on a naked body made of thick matte silk, a little pearl, and a high choker collar with long falling threads, It was one of the old jewels I bought in a small antique shop. Vintage trinket in the style of Queen Marie-Antoinette. I had a whole collection of such chokers—some studded with precious stones made of expensive jewelry metals, others woven with the finest threads, like a skillfully woven web. Hard made of steel and leather, and soft, like angelic kisses, made of organza and velour. JiHo once said I had a choke kink if I liked things like that; maybe I did, but my ex was too “vanilla” to close his hands around my neck.

After getting dressed and styling my hair, I sat down on the couch and waited for Soomin to arrive. What should I do now? I was lost. Turn on the TV or read a book? Look at the news feed on Instagram; be sure to look at JiHo's profile to see his new photo. Does he miss me or not? Is someone else warming up his bed now that I'm not around? Is JiHo still wearing the same perfume as before, or has he found something different?

Anyway, I never liked his perfume; it was salty like tears and distant ocean breezes and rancid like decaying wood in the dense Amazon. He called them gourmet; I could only agree if they were worn by someone else, say someone more dominant and powerful. Maybe I would even find this strange, gloomy mixture of aromas attractive, inhaling it from someone else's hot skin and feeling with the touch of my lips a steadily beating pulse in the swollen veins on a strong neck.

How long does love last? Three years or more? For me, it's a moment; for others, it's an eternity. I loved him. It's true. Very strong and very long ago. My love did not resemble the indomitable elements or the explosions of colored fireworks; rather, it was the fragrant bloom of wildflowers and the scattering of stars in the sky. She was comforting, not passionate, and I wanted to see someone like me, someone who could comfort my heart and give me tenderness.

Tenderness and comfort alone were enough for me, but deep inside, I wanted something dangerous, something forbidden. I was devout, one of those people who are called “good girls,” but was it really me or the role that Mina gave me?

Maybe in the far corners of my mind, my thoughts weren’t as good and right as they should be. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, but sometimes when I woke up from another nightmare, I was glad she was dead. Dark, reckless emotions made their way through my cracks; they were moments of despair as my anger lifted its ugly head and oozed poison and blood. My cruelty and hatred had the color of roses and smelled like chocolate. She had fox eyes and a seductive smile; desire flowed in her veins, and strangled thirst was heard in her voice.

In my nightmares, I saw not only Mina and bloody roses; sometimes there was a young man in long silk robes and a veil hiding his face. He's just a ghost; I met mine years ago, but somehow he seems more real to me night by night when he comes into my dreams without permission. He crept into them like a serpent-tempter into the Garden of Eden, slipping away at dawn like the shadow of two moons, hiding behind a door I could never open.

Unreal in my reality.

I felt the arrival of Soomin even before her long nails methodically began to knock on my door. It was as if the spell had been removed and all the sounds of the world had rained down on me in an instant. Yoru shook off her sleep and whirled around at the front door, waiting for an unknown guest. The clatter of high heels echoed in my apartment, slipping through the cracks of the door locks, and the thick smell of ambergris and blooming jasmine at night walked ahead of her, warning every one of her approaches. If I didn’t know better, I could easily have mistaken her for Mina. That was my sister once.

The whole world was just a part of her life; she was not part of the world. To be ordinary—what a bad form!

“Sarang! Sarang, open up. I’m here.” and in fact, her long nails caught on the dark wood of my front door, causing Yoru to bristle and hiss.

I was absolutely sure they wouldn’t get along.

“Are you awfully loud? Someone told you this, Soo?” I opened the front door wide, smiling softly. “I missed you, Soomin.”

“Don’t tell me about it; I missed that pretty face.” She hugged me, which made Yoru hiss again, attracting Soo’s attention. “When did you get a cat?”

“That’s not my, Yoru cat, my neighbor from apartment 1366, that door.” I waved my hand to the far end of the corridor, where Mrs. Lee’s apartment was located. “I like her; I don’t mind having the baby stay with me sometimes.”

“I see.” There was an awkward pause between us until Soo broke it. “You want to talk about… you know what.” She was worried about this topic; I could see it from the way she shifted from foot to foot, or was it from high heels? In the light of the electric lamps, the steel studs glittered like sharpened spindles from the tale of The Sleeping Beauty.

“Not now. Better tell me about this restaurant we’re going to.” Soomin was easily distracted if you changed the topic of conversation in the direction of a subject of interest to her.

I walked out of the house, taking one last look at Yoru. The cat didn't even think about leaving my space; he was already ensconced in a pile of pillows on the sofa in the living room. If she wasn't going to leave, I wouldn't force her.

“Don’t you need to return the cat to the mistress? She looks expensive.” asked Soo

“She’s a purebred Persian cat, and no, Mrs. Lee won’t worry about it; Yoru can stay with me for weeks before she comes home. This has happened before.”

“All right, if you say so.”

I shut the front door and turned the key, permanently cutting off my escape routes. Today. I have to do this today or my resolve will wear thin, and I will once again voluntarily isolate myself in the comfort of blankets and tightly closed curtains.

"And so, the restaurant..." This was the beginning of a long story that interested no more than random passersby in a faceless crowd.

“You’re going to love this place, I promise. Everything I’ve seen on their Instagram profile is so fascinating, but you know what makes this place really attractive? It’s the owner. Eun Jung was there last week, and she couldn’t shut up about…”

For the next 30 minutes, I heard about this trending establishment. “ Angels' Share” is the most requested boutique café in the last 3 months on all search engines. A luxurious café with exquisite dishes and a magnificent concept.

But most importantly, it is, of course, divine, and Soomin, the owner, was absolutely sure of this. Hundreds of girls lined up in endless lines from dawn to dusk, hoping to see him, at least for a moment.

On your first visit, the owner of “Angels' Share” personally serves you throughout your interruption there. Your name is inscribed in the book of exclusive customers in gold ink. Their main specialty is gourmet desserts, and if you are not seduced by the angelic face of the magnificent man who runs this place, then the sweets melting on your lips will do it instantly.

Full berries of scarlet strawberries in white Belgian chocolate. Mille-feuille with fresh wild berries. The devil's food is the most chocolate of all chocolate cakes, and, of course, the angel cake has the most delicate silk cream of exotic fruits.

As Soomin told me about it, she was clearly having an emotional orgasm. Her arousal was obvious, but I could not understand what she craved more: exquisite desserts or the sweet kiss of the owner.

“I think he's a real angel,” Soo finished her rant after giving a fiery speech about the unique beauty of a man she had never met in her life.

“I'm not sure if it's all true, Soomin, but you'll be able to see for yourself when we get there. You should not trust everything they say. You're too impressionable and trusting.”

We spent the rest of the journey in peaceful silence. This is the type of silence when there are a lot of questions in the air, but each side is not sure when to start asking them. I know she wanted to ask me a lot of things, and in response, I wanted to finally share my experiences and feelings that I had been desperately hiding for the past two months. Nevertheless, each of us remained silent, as if afraid to destroy fragile comfort with uncomfortable words.

When the car stopped, Soomin smiled approvingly at me, as if to say, “Go ahead, my girl!” She was good at it because she was also a cheerleader like Mina.

“Angels' Share” was impressive at first sight, and not only because of the long line of girls lined up in a perfect line and dressed in intricate clothes like collectible dolls on the shelf.

A myriad of flowers, lace, and feathers, pastel shades, and delicate ruffles—all of them looked like animated sugar fantasies. Their cheeks were dusted with pink blush, and their inflated lips were accentuated by a thick layer of transparent sticky gloss with a fine sprinkle of glitter.

Perfectly well-groomed hair is arranged in children’s cute curls or intricate hairstyles with hundreds of sparkling hairpins and velvet bows. The variety of their images was amazing, as was the height of their heels. This place was definitely something special if the girls were willing to sacrifice their comfort for a couple of desserts.

Or it wasn’t about desserts.

At such moments, I especially understood how much we needed someone else's approval. The list of items seems endless: he likes cute girls, girls with an athletic figure, pale skin, and big eyes; she should not be boring; my friends like her; she has long legs and a thin waist; and she is a certain height. I wonder if he'll use a ruler to measure me. Big boobs or a nice ass—which turns him on more? What will our first date be like? That's right; should I call him Oppa or not? Tell me what you want, and I will fulfill whatever you want. I will fulfill every one of your fantasies. Tell me about your desires.

Seduce me. Surprise me. Love me!

I don’t want to live like this. I want to be who I really am, with all my flaws and imperfections. I want to be sharp and rude; I want to be cruel and honest; I want to look as I want, without colorful tinsel and layers of makeup, with cellulite, stretch marks, and a little overweight. That may be so, but it will be me. Just me. 

The voice of Soomin ripped me out of my mind.

“I told you so,” said Soo smugly, purposefully heading for the entrance, circumventing a string of discharged girls. She was a lioness on a hunt, while they were stranded in colorful piles like scared rabbits.

If you do not pay attention to the girls, the exterior is fascinating. Gold, flowers, and crystal resembled the frame of a precious box. “Angels' Share” was positioned in such a way that the sun flooded it from all sides, creating around it a mysterious golden haze of sunlight and a dazzling iridescent play of crystals.

Everything was so beautiful, I won't deny it, but didn't the gingerbread house beckon the children deep into the dark forest where the wicked witch lived? Everything beautiful always has a downside, and someone knows how to mask it better than others.

While I was looking at the details, Soomin dragged me inside and was already talking to the host girl, who was checking the records for a long list of names. She also, like the girls on the street, looked like a doll. Her hair was long and shiny, tucked away from her face with an embroidered rim with Swarovski crystals, and her eyelashes were so lush that they touched her cheeks when she blinked. I would call her beautiful; she licked to perfection, which made it almost unnatural. She had a sweet, high-pitched voice and an overly friendly smile. Annoyingly friendly. 

“Please follow me; I'll show you your table. Since you have visited us for the first time, Mr. Yoon will personally take care of you today. Please enjoy your stay at “Angels' Share.”

YooA—that was the name of this girl—led us up the spiral staircase to the second floor. It seemed that everything around was carved from pale golden marble, with the addition of luxurious interior items and thousands of flowers—or, to be more precise, thousands of roses. Snow-white, cream, pastel pink, and soft peach—the whole space breathed rose buds that stood in tall transparent vases.

The sight took my breath away, and I was inwardly tense. It's okay; it's just a café, not Mina's apartment. You need to relax and not start panicking; it will not benefit anyone.

As if sensing my growing panic, Soomin squeezed my palm.

“Are you all right? You look pale.”

“Yes, it’s all right; there are too many roses for my taste; you know, it brings back memories.” I smiled tortuously in response to her words. I didn’t want to ruin her day; she was so excited and happy when we came here.

“We can leave if you are not comfortable, Sarang.” Soo still held my hand, gently walking her thumb over my palm in a comforting circular motion. “If you want to go somewhere else, this is fine. I can always come back here later.”

“No!” came out too loud. “No, I’m fine. I can’t wait to try their chocolate fondant. You know I’m here only for chocolate.” She said the last part with me in one voice.

YooA showed us our table, although it was more like a small loggia separated by airy chiffon tulle and pearl threads from the common room. I could easily fall in love with this place if not for the languid, enveloping smell of roses and the beauty of their lush, perfect buds.

“Do you think the rumors are true, and we'll see an angel appearance today?” Soomin leaned across the table to talk about the owner, not so obviously?

“I think you'll find out about it now, anyway.” I couldn't finish my thoughts, interrupted by Soo's enthusiastic sigh. It was a sound of undisguised admiration that she couldn't hold back, even if she tried.

The reason for her excitement was right behind me, and I had to look back a little to see what it could have been.

Of course, all the sounds of delight belonged to none other than Mr. Yoon. In part, I could understand why he was called angel-like. His beauty was painfully perfect, to the point where it became almost terrible. His face was beautiful—almost obsessively beautiful, like the face of a stone goddess on a grave. Surreal. The skin seemed to glow from the inside, like molten silver flowing through the veins. He had long hair—ashes, platinum, mother-of-pearl—everything mixed on a diamond cloth. One silvery strand fell delicately over his face.

Are the melodies of an angelic choir in the air, or does it just seem that way to me?

The more I looked at him, the more his appearance disgusted me.

I felt flawed and unsuitable, like a puzzle that did not fit the picture; my heart did not beat faster with excitement or sweet agony; I did not burn and did not desire it as it should. Between us, it was possible to draw thousands of parallels in a myriad of universes, and none of them ever intersected. Beauty is deceptive, like a serpent promising forgiveness. It’s the pain of a bittersweet injection entering our nervous tissue.

What do we know about them—angels? White-winged light bearers, without flaws and ignorant of evil and vicious desires, are submissive and faithful to their ideals and purposes. Silent watchers who look after our virtue. But there are those who are chained and silken, whose wings are torn out with bloody flesh, for they are sinners.

Their name is the fallen. Unforgiven. 

He was not an angel. He was one of them who traded the vaults of heaven for the flames and steel of the nine circles.

His presence was heavy, stifling, and sharp. Goosebumps ran through my skin as an omen of the imminent end.

I could have sworn that the second our eyes met in his eyes, the color of dark bitter chocolate, anger, and disgust thickened. So everything that is perfect collapses, falls, beats, and crumbles like the great walls of Babylon, kissing the transcendental peak of heaven. Like a Venus flytrap, his appearance was a clever disguise of vice and rot in a velvet cage of flesh, and this place is the very gingerbread house that beckons to certain death.

 “Welcome to “Angels' Share”. My name is Yoon Sung Hoon; I own this place, and today I will make sure your stay here is unforgettable.” The voice flowed like honey smoothly and gently, I could melt at this tone.

“I am Soomin, and this is Sarang; we have heard a lot about this place.” Soo’s cheeks were pink from a shy blush, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was embarrassed. This man was clearly something special, if he could make Soomin behave like a schoolgirl in love with just his presence.

His eyes rested on my figure for a second, and I wanted to shrink into a ball under this appraising gaze, as if he was trying to probe me and understand how dangerous I could be. It was only a moment, and then a smile shone again on his angelic face.

“I hope you’ve only heard nice things about us. What do you want today?” I wonder what he is used to hearing in response. I want you and your love, and I will accept everything you would not give me. Will you be my boyfriend? My husband? Will you give me eternal love? Judging by the expression on Soomin's face, this is exactly what she wanted to ask him, but she pulled herself up in time.

“I want to taste your best dessert.” As they say, kill them with your sweetness. Where has my self-sufficiency and t.” As they say, “kill them with your sweetness.” Where has my self-sufficient and confident self gone? Soo, this blushing mess was nothing like hers.

“Of course, only the best is for you. And what do you want?” All his attention was now drawn to me, and I had no pleasure. Yoon Sung Hoon is clearly not used to girls not falling at his feet like moths hitting the glass. Our dislike was mutual. Our dislike was mutual. “What do you want, Sarang? I would recommend one of our most special desserts: a white chocolate soufflé with candied scarlet roses.” Sung Hoon was smiling, but not at all benevolent; there was something mocking in the exquisite curve of his lips, as if he were challenging me: “Come on, try me.”

Roses. Those damn roses again. It always came down to these flowers. Were they my path leading away from the dark forest, or would they lead me straight to the crystal coffin in the tallest tower of the castle?

Instead of politely refusing, as a true lady should, I have given a crude, hoarse, and utterly evil speech:

“I hate roses.”

For me, flowers are as beautiful as the pain of a broken heart. You can call me a heartbreaker. What will your heart taste like? I'm so eager to try it. 

“My apologies.” Sung Hoon bowed his head, hiding his gaze in the lace of fluttering eyelashes and platinum bangs. With this simple action, Soomin once again made a barely audible, enthusiastic sound. “In this case, I offer you our signature chocolate fondant with raspberry jam and glass caramel glaze. Our clients say that he has a heavenly taste, so celestial that he can be sinful.”

Sung Hoon—there was something about him that disgusted me. His way of speaking, his appearance, his behavior—in general, every detail of it The most beautiful apple on the branch will always be wormy. I couldn't understand how he could charm girls in a split second, without any effort, as if it were in his blood—to cause desire and awe.

During our short conversation, Soo did not look at me once, inseparably studying every detail of the angelic man. If I make an incision in his skin, will the gold pour as befits angels, or will it be the viscous and black acid that Pandora once shed from her eyes?

I didn’t like it here. I didn’t like Yoon Sung Hoon, and he probably didn’t like me. How was I in his eyes—insignificant, puny, ordinary? Our dislike was mutual but totally unfounded; I just knew I didn’t want to be in the same space with him. I can’t breathe.

Guests always leave after dessert. I didn't want to linger, so I agreed to fondant. “Okay, I'll take fondant and cappuccino.” I looked at Soomin again; her thoughts were clearly elsewhere, judging by the bitten lower lip and flushed cheeks. “And matcha latte, please.”

“Of course, ladies…” With this phrase, he finally left us, and I sighed deeply.

“I think I'm in love, Sarang.” Apparently, with his passing, Soo’s brain has resumed active activity. “He absolutely justifies all the rumors about him.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that; he’s definitely something very special.”

After Sung Hoon served desserts and another 10 minutes of heated discussion of his appearance, our conversation took its normal course. It’s like ping-pong; the rules are very simple: move from one question to another, follow the theme, and don’t miss your turn. “How's the work?” “Everything is fine.” “How’s your boyfriend?” “You remember I told you we broke up?” “What have you been doing lately?” “Too much to do; I can’t remember, but recently I came back from Japan”, “Did you like it there?” “Great seats and great cuisine.” “How do you feel, Sarang?” Say it again; I didn’t hear you.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” Once again, you speak unclearly.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” It's so loud here, I can't hear you.

“Sarang?!” Can I skip my turn? I’m tired of this game.

I took a deep, slow breath.

“What do you want me to say, Soo? Something that will calm you down or something that should comfort me? ”

“Truth, Sarang. I want to hear the truth from you.” Soomin looked at me so carefully that it seemed as though she was looking straight into my soul.

My mind moved from one thought to another, not knowing what it would focus on. Truth. What is it like, this truth? She is like a beautiful, spiritually disheveled monster with a lesbian couple of black widows in an aquarium; she exists in an endless eternity of joyful decadence and an ecstatic nightmare.

It’s no big deal to tell someone the truth, but are you ready to see your own reflection in someone else’s eyes? They say alcohol is a liquid truth, but I think it's nothing more than a road strewn with bread crumbs, straight into a dense, dark forest. The more you drink, the deeper you go. Sometimes, through the intricately woven stems of condemnation and bitterness, subtle rays of understanding break through, like the light shed by the dual face of the moon. But this happens so rarely that the eyes themselves become accustomed to the surrounding darkness.

I’m still afraid of the dark and, therefore, of the truth. Now I’m sure I’m allergic to the world.

When I looked at the café, I noticed that there were many more people. Bunny girls with colorful barrettes occupied small transparent tables filled with all sorts of desserts; others, similar to porcelain dolls, put their palms to their cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, and laughed loudly, sitting in the same loggias as ours. The sounds of clicks from selfies and aesthetic Instagram photos did not subside for a second, as did the high play of voices merging with soft background music.

This probably wasn’t the best place for such a serious conversation, but was it ever the perfect place to have a heart-to-heart?

“Honestly, I don't know. Really?” I began, stirring the thick, fragrant foam from the cappuccino. It tasted like a first kiss—a little bitter, a little sweet—something that I would like to repeat again and again. “Secrets, secrets, and more secrets—everywhere I look, no matter what I ask, they only get bigger. Everything is as usual: Mina died, and the world is still spinning around her. Remember, I told you that they still send roses? I can say that soon the cemetery will start selling bouquets because there is simply nowhere to put them. Every day there are fresh flowers on the grave.” Maybe I sounded a little petty and annoyed, but I didn't care. “I may not seem like the best person on this planet, but sometimes I feel absolutely happy that I finally managed to bury her in the ground.”  Yes, this is exactly the right moment; you are not mistaken. That was my truth, like salt and pepper, like ashes, like burned dreams.

Soomin shook her head negatively.

“You shouldn't talk about yourself like that, Sarang; you're not a bad person, and we both know it; everyone around you knows it; and even that bastard JiHo knows it. You have gone through a lot, and if I were you, I would have gone crazy long ago, but look at yourself: you are here with me, in the noise of the metropolis, and you have your whole life ahead of you.” She put her hand on top of mine, and the warmth of her body penetrated mine. “Mina was who she was, and neither you nor me nor anyone else could change her. So don't let her ghost poison your life. I'm not a fan of this entire Nancy Drew thing, but I won't dissuade you. If you want my help, I'm on board.”

I laughed bitterly, taking a sip of the coffee that had already cooled. There was something special about it—sweet, ice-cold coffee, like long-cooled love.

“Yeah, you’re right; she was who she was, but I guess we were wrong about that because those flowers broke her in half. In fact, that’s the whole point of the question: where did the roses come from? She was interested in nothing but flowers and some strange prayers. She frightened me. You know, at first it looked like another love of hers; everything was as usual—she talked incessantly about flowers and admired them, but the more roses they sent us, the less she was interested in the rest of the world. Mina withered and languished while the roses bloomed. I've never seen anyone come to our house or meet someone. Nothing, just roses—hundreds of roses. You just can't imagine how many there were.”

“You know, I don’t really want to imagine it. Okay, let’s say you find something in her files. What’s next? You really need this? Maybe we should just let go, you know, scatter the ashes to the wind.” Breaking off a slice of angel cake, Soo mooed in satisfaction as the dessert was in her mouth. “Mmm, I love sweets. Who handled her legal affairs? If this is one of the free lawyers, we should hurry; the queues in these cantors are worse than here.”

“No, no, we're not going to a free advocacy team. Wait a minute.” I pulled out of my purse a small card from a thick black cardboard and handed it to Soomin. Transparent gloss on a soft matt surface looked refined and very expensive, just like the business card itself. “Silver & Black LTD” was the name of the law firm that handled Mina’s affairs.

“You’re kidding me!” She exclaimed, almost burying her face in her business card. “That’s “Silver and Black.” How did she manage to work with them? They’re one of the most elite law practitioners in all of Seoul, and I’d say across Asia. Their lawyers are real sharks in their cases; for the existence of their practice, they have not lost a single case, and the bills for their services are simply cosmic. How does she have so much money? Sarang, did you inherit her sugar daddy too? If that's the case, ask for more; you're much more expensive than a cheerleader, and nerds are always sexier and more desirable.”

“Stop saying that like I’m a whore. I don’t know where she got the money, but are their services so expensive?” My surprise was obvious. Our family was not poor, but we were not rich; we occupied that golden layer in the class hierarchy where we could just live without any worries about tomorrow. Mina and I were well provided for, but judging by Soomin’s reaction, “Silver and Black” could afford only filthy rich and influential people.

“If I were to be offered the opportunity to trade my virginity for cooperation with them, I would have done it without hesitation. Are you sure we have an appointment with them?”

“Soomin!” Frankness was always such a simple thing for her that I felt awkward at such moments. “Of course, I called them yesterday to confirm the details.”

“What? The cult of virginity is overrated anyway, but now I'm much more interested in it.”

“Let me think, more amazing men?” “How did you guess?” Soo smiled sweetly, shoving another piece of dessert into her mouth. I snorted; I couldn’t help it. "Hey, don’t laugh! You should also consider new options, since you and JiHo have broken up. Listen to me, little Sarang, nothing will warm your bed better than a hot big boy."

"Ew, Soomin." She just laughed back.

#ateez smut #ateez yandere #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #yandere ateez #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez ot8 #ateez imagines

[david-talks-sw]

What are your thoughts on the je'daii? Do they even work, like I find myself irritated by the concept because people often use them to validate/prove the notion that "balance = both sides of the Force"

If you stick to what George Lucas said, in Star Wars a person being "balanced" is someone who accepts their inner darkness and resists its pull nonetheless.

When fans mention the Je'daii, it's usually in the context of:

"The Jedi downgraded from the Je'daii, limited their studies of the Force, refusing to study the Dark Side was a mistake. It was an original sin that caused them to create an imbalance within them."

Which is weird, to me, because the whole point of the comic's narrative is that:

the Je’daii Order’s way was doomed to fail.

Introduced in the Legends comic series Dawn of the Jedi (2012), the Je'daii are the predecessors of the Jedi. They are an order of Force users who studied and practiced both the Light Side and the Dark Side in hopes of finding Balance.

The reasoning is simple: everyone has a bit of good and bad in them, you learn to master the good and the bad sides inside of you, indulging them equally. But while this method seems sound on paper… it didn't work.

Consider that they’re already dabbling with the Dark Side...

... but hey, at least they’re aware of its dangers, they’re trying to be responsible about it.

There's a support system where they all warn each other when they're about to cross a line. But even then, there's many who've fallen and been exiled to a moon, to be rehabilitated.

Suddenly, circumstances compel all of them to use the Forcesaber, a weapon that only activates when you draw on the Dark Side.

And that does something to them. Over the course of a year, they all become increasingly aggressive.

Soon, a faction breaks off because they no longer want to stop using the Forcesaber. They’re addicted to the Dark Side.

A war ensues, at the end of which the Jedi Order is born, a group of Force users who:

acknowledge and accept their inner darkness,

while also striving to overcome it rather than give it power.

So that’s the moral of the whole Je’daii story.

Their idea of "Balance by wielding both" was actually so fragile and difficult to maintain that all it took was a little push for them to become vulnerable to the Dark Side's temptation.

Hell, even after the Jedi Order was established, one of its founders, Master Rajivari - who in Dawn of the Jedi (2012) is framed as a wise ex-general who, albeit strict, spends his days meditating and philosophizing - he goes to the Dark Side too! 

Because that's how the Dark Side works.

The Dark Side isn’t just "negative feelings" or a "bad guy superpower" that you can mix with a "good guy superpower" to unleash the ultimate 'Force blast'. This isn’t an anime.

The Dark Side is a drugs/smoking/drinking addiction.

It's selfish, temporary pleasure. The more you consume it...

... the more you get addicted...

... and the more it consumes you right back...

... until nothing remains.

Jon Ostrander, who wrote Dawn of the Jedi (2012), echoed this sentiment multiple times:

“As I see it, those working on the light side work with the Force, channeling it, open and sensitive to what it tells them. They serve it. Those on the dark side try to impose their will on the Force, to make it do their will, to make it serve them. The Je’daii believe in a balance between the light and the dark side and so attempt to use both. Problem is, a balance is hard to maintain and the dark side is so very seductive.” - John Ostrander, LA Times, 2012

“The Je'daii aren't light side or dark side, although they know and are aware of both. Instead they seek a balance in the Force between light and dark. Balance, however, is a difficult thing to maintain and there is always the danger of falling wholly to the dark side — and some Je'daii have done so.” - John Ostrander, Newsarama, 2012

And this is a recurring theme throughout all of Ostrander’s comics, by the way. Be it with the Je’daii, but also with Quinlan Vos or Cade Skywalker, the point remains the same: 

"Yes, wielding the Dark Side gives you great power, and you get to show off some badass new tricks...

… but it ultimately destroys you and everyone around you."

Remember: if it weren’t for Cade or Quin’s loved ones, neither of them would have come back from the Dark Side. They aren't badasses because they can use Force Lightning, they're badasses because they found the strength to give that up.

So if you genuinely think the Jedi "downgraded" by refusing to give the Dark Side more power than it already has on them... you're missing the point.

“It’s not about ripping things out of the sky using the Force or Force Lightning. A lot of people, they think “oh look how powerful Vader is, look how powerful the Emperor is, I want to play be the bad guy because I get these powers”. It’s an empty feeling, at the end of the day, after the moment. [...] The Dark Side is a spiral downward that you’re trapped in.” - Dave Filoni, “Force of Rebellion”, 2018

It was an upgrade.

Framing "balance" as "equal Dark and Light Side" is like consuming one (1) salad a day and one (1) whole bottle of vodka and calling that "balanced". No, buddy, that'll kill you. Because:

The vodka is better at being destructive than the salad is at making you healthy.

It's won't stay just one bottle per day. It'll eventually become two, three, etc.

Because as George Lucas stated time and again, resisting the Dark Side is a constant struggle.

So that's my two cents.

You've probably already heard about the recent announcement of a Dawn of the Jedi feature film, a biblical epic that will be directed by James Mangold.

And truth be told... it scares me SO much that we came THIS close to an Episode IX: Duel of the Fates that framed "balance" as - you guessed it - giving equal power to your light and darkness.

Like, how did this ⬆️ get as far as it did? Did nobody think to sit Colin Trevorrow down and explain to him that he fundamentally misunderstands how the Force works?

So all I can do is cross my fingers and hope James Mangold has a better grasp of - if not the lore (I wouldn't be surprised if the words "Je'daii" or "Tython" aren't uttered once in the film) - at least the message.

#incidentally Jon Ostrander is one of the few EU writers who actually *got* the Prequels' intended narrative #je'daii #je'daii order #star wars legends #expanded universe #jedi #jedi order #in defense of the jedi #jedi culture #Dawn of the Jedi #the force #dark side of the force #jon ostrander #jan duursema #dave filoni #meta #QnA