#since he’s not power hungry he would have the emperor’s interests (not just as the leader of the nation) but as a family member at heart

[alexiethymia]

With the reveal that Aduo didn’t actually want to be the mother of the nation, looks like we now have a concrete path to a happy ending for Jinshi.

Though I actually really want to see him as the Emperor one day (at least for a time), it would be thematically appropriate if Jinshi takes not after the Emperor, but after Gaoshun and becomes the retainer of the future Emperor.

#knh spoilers #kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #jinshi #aduo #maomao #looking at gaoshun and taomei #it does solve everything #jinshi would still be able to be close to the seat of power #and do good for the nation #in guiding the future emperor the same way gaoshun guided him #since he’s not power hungry he would have the emperor’s interests (not just as the leader of the nation) but as a family member at heart #and at the same time he wouldn’t be pressured to take in more than one spouse #maomao would be free to explore the nation as she pleases #the history of the owner of the jade plaque with the favored son of a former emperor #abdicating and eventually being given a name #seems to be foreshadowing for what will happen even if Jinshi’s true heritage does get out #I’m sure factions will try to use him as a piece #but in the same vein that maomao decided her own fate herself #it would make sense for Jinshi to achieve what he wants to do regardless of the circumstances of his birth #and it would be sweet if he took after his foster father #win win solution for everyone really #yeah ok I’ll be fine even if jinshi doesn’t become emperor as long as he becomes retainer #maomao would be better leading medical reforms rather than be an empress too #it would also be subversion of the usual chosen one will lead tropes #yeah no how about the secret prince becomes the mentor instead

[blues-valentine]

Dune Spoilers:

I like the Dune book series - it’s one of the first sci fic books I ever read and we all know they're the blueprint. And Deni's movies are a visual masterpiece. With that being said, I have some issues with the movies because of their use of Arab culture to build their world while most of their cast and staff isn’t even middle eastern. But I don’t feel I have the authority to talk about it so I’ll refer to some posts. (x x x)

But with a lot of criticism I disagree with the takes about the movie showing us a "white savior trope" and I don’t want to yell that media literacy is death when it comes to analyzing entertainment but yes because Paul Atreides is being portrayed as a cautionary tale since the very first introduction to Dune in the movies. Chani starts the movie explaining Arraki’s story about being invaded and under the ex rule of an imperial house and asks the following question: “Who’ll our next oppressors be?” while cutting directly to Paul and starting his journey. Paul isn’t being shown as the white savior that will free the Fremen from the imperial rule and get them the paradise they see in the prophecy. He quickly becomes a power hungry leader with a god complex and I think Dune: Part Two heavily showcases this transition. Paul spends a lot of time denying what he could be and when he has the ability to see he can win and rule the world - his greed takes over.

Paul’s ascent to power in the 3rd act isn’t even being portrayed as a good thing — it’s supposed to be dark and full of warnings about the tyrant he’ll become. It’s there in his scary speech and Chani’s face. Both Paul and Jessica are being shown as manipulative people that are leading the Fremen into false hopes and religious fanaticism. Paul knew from the very start that the Bere Gesserit were planting ideas on the Fremen about him being the one - and he knew he needed to convince the remaining doubtful people of the prophecy if he wanted them on his side for his revenge. He was using the Fremen for his vengeance agaisnt the emperor. And he might’ve fallen in love with Chani and genuinely believe his place is at Arrakis' but he quickly transforms into the Messiah that plays into people’s false worship. He knows the easiest way to control the Fremen is by playing into the prophecy.

Paul’s Atraides isn’t about a hero’s journey but mostly the journey of an anti hero. We are not supposed to think he is the good guy. In the books there’s this important quote from Frank Herbert’s himself: “No more terrible disaster could befall your people than for them to fall into the hands of a hero.” because Paul isn’t there to save them from colonialism just replacing their old oppressors (Harkonnen) with him.

And I was pleasantly surprised with the changes in Chani’s character by her having more agency by being a freedom fighter and the only one seeing the wrongs in the increasing fanaticism towards Paul and the dangers this means for her people instead of playing the passive girlfriend that sticks by his side despite him becoming everything he swore won't be like in the books. And I really hope they change some parts of her arc in the last movie and she goes against him. Or at the very least have her still present a strong opposition to his world view. It would turn their relationship more interesting than her spending 12 years as his concubine wanting to bear him children and dying for it. I think Denis seems to be planning a better way to portray the women in the last movie and I can't wait to see what he does with them.

I just feel like people will get to Dune: Messiah and be so confused as if Paul going into a dark path and becoming Arraki's next oppressor wasn't pretty much there all along.

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune movie #text post #chani kynes #paul atreides

[theygotlost]

Annotations for le Vimes playlist

hi. read this if you care

YOUTUBE VERSION if you want to listen without spotify

1. The Fool / Neutral Milk Hotel

A little instrumental preamble before the playlist proper. musically, I think it captures the state of Vimes at the beginning of Guards! Guards!. It sounds like a processional fanfare fit for a guard, but cacophonous and lilting, as if the band were stumbling drunk.

2. Wasted on the Senate Floor / Emperor X

Another Guards! Song, though the frantic energy reflects the chaotic excitement of the watch series and Discworld as a whole (and the excitement I get from reading it heehee). The title/refrain is pretty straightforward, just replace “senate floor” with “oblong office”. 

Some other pertinent lyrics:

That feels million to one [a million to one chance??? perhaps???]

Republican watchman from Virginia wraps his fist in a flag To punch our lights out

We've got bloody eyes but we're feeling good Causing confusion in the neighborhood

3. We Live in a Dump / They Might be Giants

I have to put a TMBG song in my discworld playlist, I simply must! Pretty much all the lyrics to this one are relevant, but the pre-chorus specifically fits well with the rank trying to get Vimes out of his drunken stupor and Vimes being dismissed from the watch, both of which happen in Guards! And Men at Arms.

Why be realistic? Don't wake me from my dream I was individualistic They kicked me off the team

4. Grace Cathedral Hill / The Decemberists

How Vimes experiences Ankh-Morpork. There’s a tenderness and melancholy to this song, since Vimes does have a sort of affection for the city despite how terrible it is.

All dust and stone and moribund

The air, it stunk of fish and beer

The suggestion of CMOT dibbler: 

We were both a little hungry So we went to get a hot dog

The pilgrims, pills, and tourists here Will sink fifty-three bucks to buy A brand new halo

This could be Sibyl, who knows!!

Sweet on a green-eyed girl All fiery Irish clip and curl All brine and piss and vinegar

I know “piss and vinegar” is an expression describing her personality (Vimes is really more the one full of piss and vinegar), but taken literally it would also accurately describe the smell of the city.

5. Dirty Old Town / Ewan Maccoll

A continuation of the themes from the previous song. I originally had the cover by the Pogues in here for the longest time, but I decided to replace it with the original from 1949 because it brings a more interesting color (the clarinet!!).

6. Precinct 41 Major Crime Unit / Sea Power

Another instrumental interlude, this time from the Disco Elysium soundtrack. Discworld and Disco Elysium are so closely linked in my mind, Vimes absolutely has Harry’s skillset inside his brain and you CANNOT convince me otherwise. As the title suggests this song is the theme for Harry’s police precinct, and I totally imagine it playing during an intense moment with the Watch.

7. Hurricane Drunk / Florence + the Machine

Yeah yeah I know it’s sooo easy to fill my playlist with songs about alcoholism. Well if the boot fits! Plus:

No walls can keep me protected No sleep, nothing in between me and the rain

Pretty good imagery here of Vimes’ night patrols and/or passing out in the gutter.

8. Down by the Water / The Decemberists

The river Ankh, if we’re using a generous definition of the term “water”.

9. Cap in Hand / The Proclaimers

FUUUCK the nobility!!!

10. Average Working Man / Panicland

FUCK the nobility… 2!!! He's God's message to the high class folk!!!! This is a perfect song for encapsulating Vimes’ RAGEEE

11. This Night / Black Lab

This one’s about the Summoning Dark/”The Beast”:

There are things, I have done There's a place, I have gone There's a beast and I let it run Now it's running my way

And then there’s this: 

So take this night And wrap it around me like a sheet I know I'm not forgiven But I need a place to sleep So take this night And lay me down on the street I know I'm not forgiven but I hope That I'll be given some peace

From Jingo:

He was, temporarily, a happy man. He was cold, wet and alone, trying to keep out of the worst of the weather at three o’clock on a ferocious morning. He’d spent some of the best nights of his life like this. At such times you could just…sort of hunch your shoulders like this and let your head pull in like this and you became a little hutch of warmth and peace, the rain banging on your helmet, the mind just ticking over, sorting out the world…

12. Get Better / Frank Turner

Vimes’ character is all about learning from mistakes and making an effort to become a better person. All the lyrics are relevant, but here’s the chorus:

I'm trying to get better 'cause I haven't been my best She took a plain black marker, started writing on my chest She drew a line across the middle of my broken heart And said "Come on now, let's fix this mess" We could get better because we're not dead yet

ILY SYBIL!!!!!

13. Damn These Vampires / The Mountain Goats

In terms of the song order of this playlist, this is the calm before the storm, the darkness before the dawn; Just one last quick interlude before the main event.

Crawl 'til dawn On my hands and knees Goddamn these vampires For what they've done to me

I admit this whole song is a little bit of a stretch, but the refrain is a nod to Vimes’ attitude toward vampires that’s addressed in Thud!. He spends some time crawling around like a beast in that book too.

14. Blossoms / The Amazing Devil

The crown jewel, the piece de resistance of this playlist! The Night Watch song of all time!!! I don’t feel like I need to break down the lyrics here since I already made this piece illustrating all the relevant lyrics. ✌ Ugh the emotional intensity of this one is really the important part. Leave it to the amazing devil to write Epic Music. 

15. Caesar / The Oh Hellos

This song also has a very Epic feeling to it so I have it riding on the high of Blossoms, but it’s less energetic so I think of it as a cooldown. I always thought the title referred to Julius Caesar, but Genius lyrics is telling me it’s actually about Jesus. whatevarrrr. Because I thought it was about the assassination of a monarch, I connected it with Old Stoneface. Compare:

Hear on the wind how the pendulum swings Feel how the winter succumbs to the spring Over the palisade morning will break Rise up to meet it, oh sleeper awake

With Jingo:

He had always wondered how Old Stoneface had felt, that frosty morning when he picked up the axe that had no legal blessing because the King wouldn’t recognize a court even if a jury could be found, that frosty morning when he prepared to sever what people thought was a link between men and deity

16. Untitled / The Long Winters

Just a lil silly one to take us out on a cheerful note! I admit this one doesn’t make much sense because it’s about living in a rural area and not an urban center like Ankh-Morpork but… I gotta get back to my shanty town!! And I’ve put a lot of folk music on this playlist bc even though he’s not a country boy VImes has some very folksy salt-of-the-earth sensibilities. Just let me have this one

#mine #discworld #sam vimes

[mnemo-li]

Major spoilers for Bg3 Act 3 below

I really wish the mindflayer monster romance was better written. I feel like the Emperor — AKA fucking Balduran, the founder of Baldur’s Gate — was too much of a human, and a shitty human being at that. He lusts after power, willing to kill his closest friends and allies for it (Ansur etc). He claims to have had a relationship and friendship with Belynne Stelmane, but we later (if we reject his advances and call him a freak) find out that he has been pretty much mind controlling her. And he implies that we should’ve been grateful that he’s giving us a chance to love him out of our own free will rather than being mind controlled like Stelmane was. He’s incredibly nice towards us… until we say no to him. At which point, the masks drop and he hits us with this line:

"But since you insist on thwarting my craft, let us be blunt. You are my puppet. Make no mistake. Without me, you have no value. You will take me to the brain because you have no other choice. And once we are there, you will do exactly what I tell you to. And you would do well to reconsider unlocking your potential. Your puerile attachment to your material form jeopardises us all. If I must, I will force you."

His mindset feels less like an illithid/mindflayer who operates on this blue-and-orange morality, and more like just a manipulative, narcissistic, piece of shit human tyrant.

In DnD lore, illithids are vampiric creatures who simply could not comprehend human emotions like love and care and happiness. That is why things like resonance stones exist. That is why eating a brain is such a sensual experience for them, to the point where they’d hold eating performances to extract as much emotions and memories and feelings from the brain they are consuming as much as possible. Human emotions are an object of fascination for the mind flayers.

In other words, mind flayers are anything but human. They don’t think the way we do. They don’t feel the way we do.

Meanwhile, the Emperor keeps insisting that he is “just like you”, that he is human just like us. And frankly, the writing makes him a very power hungry and selfish human being… and I don’t want that.

I want a romance with something inhuman.

The whole point of a monster romance is that you’re falling in love with something inhuman— and inhuman doesn’t have to mean evil, just not human.

It would be so interesting to be able to romance a rogue or an outcast illithid like Sangalor (who feels a lot like the inspiration for Omeluum, another friendly mindflayer NPC). I’d rather date something inhuman that finds human beings fascinating and is curious about what it means to be human, even if it can never truly comprehend it. Or, just straight up give us something inscrutable and incomprehensible, something Lovecraftian to fall in love with.

Anything but this abusive boyfriend simulator.

There’s so much potential in the Emperor’s character, it’s frustrating. If the writers are going to make him Balduran, can’t they at least use that as one of his motivations for wanting to save Baldur’s Gate? The music also went hard in this game too. The Song of Balduran is the main musical motif for Act 3. A darker version of the OST plays when we first meet the Emperor in his illithid form. A dark instrumental version of it plays too if we have sex with him. The normal version of it plays when we camp in the Elfsong Tavern.

He clearly has a musical motif to foreshadow his identity as Balduran along with his fall from grace. There’s so much more depth we could’ve had with him but it all went away the moment he gave that monologue about how we’re nothing but puppets to him. I’m just a bit sad at how much potential there is to his character — as a hero, as a villain, as a lover — but frankly the writing falls flat In the end.

#baldur’s gate 3 spoilers #the emperor #just my opinion #im a bit raw so maybe im being harsher than usual #i just… wanted a proper romance #hhh #rambling at this point #either way im happy with my Shadowheart and Halsin ending #i guess i wanted the Emperor to be an Emet-Selch level villain who is fucked up but still sympathetic #but alas lol

[immediatebreakfast]

I'm finally on chapters seven, and eight of Journey to West (while everyone else is on chapter 22 oh my god), and two scenes in particular called my interest after Sun Wukong was overwhelmed, defeated, imprisoned, mostly cooked, and then punished by Heavenly Mountain Drop into your body (not the name of the attack btw.)

The meeting between Sun Wukong, and Buddha, and then the last moments of Old Monkey before the narrative shift towards Guanyin, and certain monk.

I have to ask if this Buddha, Tathāgata, is like the actual first Buddha who was once a prince that achieved enlightment, or just one of the Buddhas since it was explained to me that there are more Buddhas, and Bodhisattvas in general. No matter, his calling, and consequently actions against Sun Wukong truly remarked how Old Monkey is not the most powerful being in this novel, nor he is as unstoppable as he thought.

"Besides your immortality and your transformations:' said the Buddhist Patriarch, "what other powers do you have that you dare to usurp this hallowed region of Heaven?" "I've plenty of them!" said the Great Sage. "Indeed, I know seventy-two transformations and a life that does not grow old through ten thousand kalpas. I know also how to cloud somersault, and one leap will take me one hundred and eight thousand miles. Why can't I sit on the Heavenly throne?"

The whole exchange is truly amazing, and it's a great written example of high staked conversations, but this part (outside of everything else) really highlighted the disparity between Buddha, and Sun Wukong.

If we think about it, as much as Sun Wukong is the Monkey King, he has only made use of what the title entails in this war against Heaven itself. He is still the King of Flower - Fruit Mountain, but his ambitions to usurp the Jade Emperor comes more out of spite, and anger towards what Heaven did to him, and his monkey family in response of his misdeeds. Old Monkey thinks that if he becomes Jade Emperor through force then absolutely no one will try to stop him in anything, yet he doesn't see the bigger picture of all of the politics tied to the Heavenly Throne. Which is why I think Buddha kept asking him these questions until he challenged him to the cloud somersault from his palm.

Buddha put an impossible task for Sun Wukong to do in order to prove himself, one that Old Monkey failed the second he didn't recognize Buddha himself.

Then, we have Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, patriarch Subodhi's most proficient disciple, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Baneful Monkey, and now Demon finally trapped in a place where there is nothing he can do to get out.

It's Buddha's punishment for disrupting the hierarchy of Heaven, and Earth. A defeat for a figure that was painted as an almost unstoppable mind with no reigns nor kings sans himself. Journey to the West has religious ties since Sun Wukong's defeat against Erlang is painted as heavenly justice finally raining down on Old Monkey after being left unpunished for so many decades.

However, there is this... speculative pitiful feeling while reading that little paragraph of Sun Wukong just being there with just his head, and a little bit of his hands outside of the Five-Phases Mountain.

They were told to feed the prisoner with iron pellets when he was hungry and to give him melted copper to drink when he was thirsty. When the time of his chastisement was fulfilled, they were told, someone would be coming to deliver him.

Even if the text clarifies that this is a temporary punishment because Sun Wukong will play a huge part later on the journey, I wonder if Old Monkey was reflecting on everything he has done from the moment he was born to the point of this moment.

Sun Wukong was born on Flower-Fruit Mountain around his monkey family until he was made king. He ate fruits, chestnuts, taros, and yellow-sperms, drank flowers, and played with other monkeys without care in the word. Freedom to move, to jump, and to live like he pleased until the whispers of death made themselves a place in his Mind.

Now he is alone, trapped, and unable to even move his tail. Sun Wukong can only look, but not feel companionship because all of the spirits around him are his guards. Instead of fruit he now must eat iron, instead of flowers he must now drink melted copper.

Now Sun Wukong has to simply wait for his punishment to be over, and endure this solitude while only having his own thoughts as company. Truly a brutal way to punish such chaotic monkey.

#How Old Monkey has grown huh #It's really a distance from how he was on the first three chapters #Truly the most impressive transformation of all #journey to the west daily #Jttwdaily #journey to the west #sun wukong #buddha

[bonesandthebees]

There’s not a lot of Sapnap in this, but what we do get of him I love. It’s not as easy as saying that he’s a good or bad person. It’s more that he’s the general of an army. Wilbur and Tommy are a threat to the empire he serves. So they need to die. But that doesn’t mean Sapnap would have enjoyed killing them. It’s just something that needs to happen.

Compare that to Tubbo who tried to kill Dream no matter how pathetic the attempt. Sapnap did not care that it was a fifteen-year-old, he tried to kill his emperor. He’s willing to wait for the paperwork with Wilbur and Tommy, but he wanted to kill Tubbi then and there. It’s also interesting that Sapnap was more insistent on waiting for Eret than Dream was (I think). He probably just has more patience, and it)a safer to wait for Eret because doing it without them could give them something to take to the intergalactic law,

The line I love most is this one though: [“I CAN’T!” Sapnap shouted, shoving the dagger back into Dream’s hands. “My soldiers are being slaughtered out there!”] That’s how you know he’s a good general. He’s a captain going down with the ship. If his soldiers are dying he’s either saving them or dying with them. I respect that. And it makes sense since he’s clearly proud of his army.

Both Sapnap and Dream were aware that they can’t beat the Antarctic Empire in combat. So now that they have been surprised, they know it’s a losing battle. Still, Sapnap goes out there instead of staying with Dream and killing Wilbur and Tommy.

-🌲

yes you get it!! sapnap isn't necessarily a good or bad person, but he's not a power hungry egomaniac like dream is. he's definitely more of a bad person because of what he's done in the name of dream's empire, but he's not taking any pleasure out of killing wilbur and tommy like dream is.

yeah that's the difference with tubbo. it's not him being cruel, it's that a 15 year old just tried to stab his emperor in front of his face. he knows that wilbur and tommy weren't actually planning to kill dream, so he doesn't have any grudges against them. tubbo did, so the situation is different.

and then in regards to eret, sapnap knows the problems they'd deal with and that with a sham trial they're already at risk of things being under scrutiny, so he wants to try and wait for eret so they can minimize any problems they encounter with intergalactic law

YEAHHHH at the very least sapnap is a good general. he wants to go down with his soldiers and not hiding in the throne room with his emperor waiting to execute two princes. and he's not an idiot. he knows that AE will slaughter them all. but he's still going out there. he's not going to try and use underhanded methods to save his own skin like dream did.

i love adding c!sapnap's complexity as a character into my aus whenever possible, so I was really happy with how stars!sapnap turned out :)

#ask #spruce anon #the stars and their children

[thetldrplace]

The Twelve Caesars- Suetonius (121AD)

I won't bother to give a recap of each of the twelve Caesars. But I will note the pattern the book reveals. Rome went from being a Republic to a monarchy. How did it happen? Why did it happen? What are the things that we should look for that cause a people as prosperous as the Romans to give up self-governance and submit to a single ruler? Most of those lessons aren't found in this book. But the fact is:  Rome got Julius Caesar as the first emperor. He was a relatively competent ruler and maybe the people felt that this single hand could accomplish more than the by then relatively useless Senate. But once a "king", or princeps, as they called him, was established, it was only 3 generations before that concentration of power went off the rails. What followed Caesar Augustus was the maleficence of Tiberius, Caligula, Gaius, and Nero, each murdered by people who hated them and their deaths rejoiced over by the populace. The point being that once power is concentrated in the hands of one man, you're not going back, and it's going to attract the worst, most power-hungry men.

What this book shows is the malfeasance of men entrusted with too much power. There were, on occasions, emperors who showed themselves to be genuinely interested in governing well. They understood the trust that had been put in their hands and sought to rule wisely. But of the twelve Caesars, there were only 4 that fit that. And maybe we should throw out the first two since they were coming into the role from the viewpoint of a republic, not a monarchy.

That was another thing to note. The republic didn't die at once. The Senate continued to exist, in a somewhat toothless form, well into the imperial age. The settings of the republic didn't disappear, they just lost their power over time until they were institutions in name only.

I want to look at a few of the books Titus Livius wrote to see the history of the Republic. My guess is, having listened to the history on a pretty extensive podcast (The History of Rome- 10 podcasts of around 2 hours each) that there will be some lessons there that we would do well to learn. We are, as Americans, maybe increasingly feeling like stuff just isn’t getting done with the current setup. Both the left and the right seem to feel in general that the other side is just too obstinate and stupid... and more to the point- obstructionist, to allow policies that would really help the country (re: their pet policies). To this end, my guess is that both sides would be open to concentrating greater power in the hands of an executive that can execute their preferred policies and get stuff done! But the lesson of history is that once that is done, you aren’t going back. 

We need to beware of renouncing self-governance for the expedients of the moment. 

[dreamingsushi]

Dance of the Phœnix - Episode 20

We have reached now way past the middle of the series and are going towards the ending. There’s still a few episodes and I do hope that they use their time well. At this point I have two fears : either they will add too much and it will be lacking in explanations, either they’re going to run in circles endlessly until the end. Both options seems very likely for me. As for now, I hope they focus on getting Feng Wu’s phœnix blood and nothing more. Then engagement with Jun Linyuan and happily ever after. Or something of a regular unsatisfying ending, without too many deaths. Because there are always too many deaths in Chinese dramas.

Zuo Qingluan’s master is once again very mad at her for failing. But... you that wasn’t her fault. The guy is in love with Feng Wu since they were kids. Even though she is quite different than she used to be before. Zhao Ge kind of witnesses her elder disciple sister being ignored and think of the past, whence her mother used to abuse Qingluan if she wasn’t doing good enough. I don’t understand why she’s being so cold towards Qingluan nowadays, it seems she used to care a lot for her, but keeps a distance. I mean I get that she’s bad at cultivating her spiritual powers and she’s an outcast in her sect since she’s not meeting her mom’s expectation, but that’s a little over the top. Zhao Ge seems to want to talk to Qingluan, but she’s invited to visit the empress. Qingluan swears to serve the empress. She doesn’t like Jun linyuan, she just likes winning.

Feng Xun is still upset about Jun Linyuan and Feng Wu, ish. I mean, he should be over it by now. Anyways, he tells Jun Linyuan to be careful. Yu Mingye could try to get Feng wu away from him, this dude is weird. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such murderous intent in Jun Linyuan’s eyes as he polishes his sword.

Talking about Yu Mingye, he’s too busy following Wu Youdao to pursue Feng Wu seriously. He thinks there’s something fishy inside the library, but doesn’t know what yet.

The colourful bird calls Feng Wu. He thinks the second piece is going to appear anytime soon. Also, something bad is going to happen at the school. He doesn’t know what yet, but his intuition is always right so he tells Feng Wu to remain on guard.

I thought there was some fighting happening, but it was actually only Zuo Qingluan training or venting her frustrations. She ended up meeting Yu Mingye. I really like the dynamic between the two of them. In some ways they are quite similar as they have to bear the pression of the role they are forced to take on. Geniuses, their sect leader expect a lot of them. I think that’s the reason why Yu Mingye is well qualified to advise Zuo Qingluan and that he always hits the mark with her. And I know he does because she would remain unphased otherwise. Yu Mingye is probably the only character who gets to see Zuo Qingluan as who she really is and she need more people to open their eyes for her to find inner peace. My humble opinion. Plus we’ve got to see more of the relationship between Yu Mingye and his father. This guy is really hungry for power. It’s sad, because along the way, he’s totally breaking down his own son.

So it’s Chinese Valentine’s day (I actually don’t like calling it like this because it is actually for spouses and not for couples, but I don’t feel like explaining the whole thing right now) and the girls can write letters to the boy they like. Zhao Ge convinces Feng Wu to write one for Jun Linyuan and herself is going to write one for Xuan Yi. Seeing how many letters Jun Linyuan received, Feng Wu decides on not handing over her own letter. Zhao Ge put hers in Xuan Yi’s book, but Feng Xun grabs it because he lent it to Xuan Yi and thinks Zhao Ge’s letter was for him. He prepares for the date with her, leaving both Xuan Yi and Jun Linyuan upset. To be honest, both love stories aren’t so interesting to me hahaha.

Something happens to the Emperor, he collapses while he was reading in his room (I guess it is his room). Jun Linyuan was on his way to see Feng Wu and confront her when Zuo Qingluan informs him something happened to his father. I wonder why she’s the one relaying the message. It’s not like they don’t have servants and stuff to take care of it. She’s not an employee of the residence or something, is she? Anyways, mister Ning says he’s alright to the empress, but when Jun Linyuan comes inquiring of his father, he eye signal him that they should talk alone. DRAMAAAA. It appears that someone is tampering with the spiritual energy of the emperor. He needs to read some books first, because it’s really rare and he is unsure of the cause. Of course, Zuo Qingluan eavesdrop on their conversation. Jun Linyuan must stay by his father’s side until he wakes up again.

So the empress sent a servant girl to the emperor’s side so she could spy on his every movement and she would feed him some pill tampering with his energy. She’s been poisinning him for already three years, so the effects would appear slowly, without leaving a trace. I’m not even surprised. It has been shown for a while that the empress isn’t a very nice person. I really wonder what is actually her main goal. She doesn’t have any children of her own, she doesn’t seem to want to kill Jun Linyuan and take over the power... so I really don’t know. Anyways she kills the maid. Well, her underling, I can’t remember the guy’s name. They use the corpse to stage a different lead, pretending the maid hung herself and admitted in a letter feeding the emperor poison on the orders of someone inside the Junwu academy. Jun Linyuan is reluctant to believe it. Just... pretend to go along with it. Sometimes he’s just really too dumb. The empress orders to search everyone at the academy. Jun Linyuan tries to oppose her, but his hands are tied. I wonder who she’s going to frame. Feng Wu? Wu youdao? Principal Ning? Jun Linyuan is really unhappy about Zuo Qingluan being over. Wow. Bravo. It was about time that you realized that she doesn’t give a damn about being the consort princess. Qingluan is despicable in many ways, but she’s really not an airhead like other young girls her age. She has always relied on no one but herself and she never shown any interest in being consort princess, only perhaps for the fact that she wants to be on top everyone else.

As to be expected, the story is getting even more complicated as it evolves even though there aren’t many episodes left to unravel all the mystery. I think they’re going to use the opportunity well. I mean, the villains. They’ll probably lose in the end, but for sure a lot of drama is incoming.

#dance of the pheonix #qie ting feng ming #yang chaoyue #xu kaicheng #gao jicai #guo cheng #wang haoxuan #jinna fu #estelle chen #cdrama #c-drama #chinese drama #xuanhuan #xuanhuan drama #drama review #drama recap #drama reaction #costume drama

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

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Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

[an-ambivalent]

Yandere! Claude [WMMAP]

WARNING:  This post contains yandere themes and mentions of other toxic behaviours that can be triggering and uncomfortable to read. So, read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not condone this behaviour irl. And uh, PSA, I haven’t been writing for a long time so its rusty :’) ok thanks. 

Fandom: Who Made Me a Princess 

Pairing: Reader-Insert

No beta, we die like men. 

dedicated to my friend @spiritualotaku​ 

First Meeting 

~ After the betrayal of his brother and his first partner, and then losing Diana, the only time Claude would be able to “love” again is after the black magic he casted upon himself has done its job and erased the memory of his last deceased partner. Even though he had hoped to freeze his heart so he would not be hurt anymore, a part of the spell worked but in a twisted away. So, the next time he does love someone else, his feelings were going to be different than how he may have felt for Penelope and had felt for Diana. 

~ There’s not really a particular scenario to exist that would be a catalyst for his “interest” in you. That would be something that would develop over time, so you would have to be in a position where you interact with him frequently. Nothing like a maid or something because Claude always keeps these types of servant roles at an arm's distance. It would have to be a role where you are able to interact with the Emperor, but not significant enough that he would become aware of you right off the bat. Perhaps you’re the blacksmith responsible for the royal guards’ weapons, or the assistant of the magician who is the healer for the knights; being in an occupation that allows you to have regular interactions with Felix, who is completely trusted by Claude and friendly with you, would allow Claude to have a more favourable first impression of you. 

~In this instance, let’s assume the role of the assistant healer. The royal guard magician healer and you were scheduled to visit to conduct the regular health check ups that happen for the guards. Since Felix was not there, you were told by your senior to go find and do his check ups and they would look after the rest. One of the castle workers guided you to the royal garden where you see your client, and the cold ruthless Emperor he is assigned to protect.  

“Blessings and Glory upon the sun of the Obelian Empire,” you and the maid greet simultaneously bowing, and both Felix and Claude’s gaze shift towards you. Recognition flashes across Felix’s face when he sees you, but the coldness glistening in Claude’s bright blue jeweled eyes is unmatched and new, as a murderous aura starts to radiate off him. You and the maid freeze under his overwhelming terrifying presence. 

“You must not value your life so much if you barge in here however as you please and disrupt my peace,” he said stoically. From the corner of your eyes, you saw the maid beginning to tremble in fear. Along with this, although your face was looking at the ground in order to avoid the Emperor's gaze, you felt a spike of magic from him. You didn’t mean to, but you subconsciously released your own magic output, and put up a defensive shield around you and the maid in case the self-entitled Emperor was going to harm her or you for “disrupting his [poor] peace.”

This, of course did not go unnoticed by Claude who narrowed his eyes at you, wondering how you could be gutsy enough to usher him a challenge like that. Luckily, the situation did not escalate to that point since Felix jumped in. 

“Your Majesty, please don’t harm them. They’re here for me, I had forgotten I am meant to see the magician today. I ask that you do not hold them accountable for this.” 

Claude fixed his cold stare on Felix for a few seconds, who was accustomed to it, so he was able to hold his ground. And then,it was obviously evident that his gaze was fixated on you with the way you felt goosebumps rise at the nape of your neck. 

“I wasn’t aware the magician was a woman,” Claude pointed out, and the way he stated this made it seem like an accusation of some sort because everyone flinched as he had spoken. Felix stepped in front of you and the maid to act as a shield, and addressed Claude with a stern tone. 

“I’m sorry for the trouble that’s been caused for you because of me, Your Majesty. To not be of inconvenience to you anymore, we will excuse ourselves.” Felix bowed, and then led you and the maid out of the garden. You would have breathed out a sigh in relief and thanked Felix, but your breath and your words were stuck in your throat (coronavirus). Because for the entire time until the garden was out of your sight, the cold and intense gaze of the royal jeweled eyes, stayed fixated on you. 

How it happens 

~Although your first meeting with the Emperor had started off with a slight rift to say the least, other employees in the castle had noticed that an odd acquaintanceship had developed between you and Claude. Actually, it was an acquaintanceship in their eyes. In reality, it was completely one-sided because you entertained his whims to stay alive. He was the Emperor who could have your head whenever he wanted, and you were forced by your magician boss to interact with him in hopes that you making a good impression on him would somehow benefit him. 

~Claude’s interest in you had developed from the things he heard about you from the knights. They spoke of how attentive you were to their care each time, and whenever they were suffering from a painful injury, you made sure to numb the area around that injury to reduce their pain as much as possible. They spoke kind words about your humour, and the homemade sweets you always brought with you to give to them once their check up was over; it was a small action, but the thought behind it was really appreciated by the knights. You conversed, informed, and asked for their consent each time before you did something unlike your boss, who just wanted to finish the job as soon as possible. 

Claude also recalled how you had instantly jumped to the defense of that incompetent maid when he had unleashed his mana to intimidate her -- you had done this as if it was second nature to you. You had acted against him and not even paused to consider the consequences you may have faced for going against the Emperor. It intrigued him and he wanted to understand you. Although Obelia’s residents’ quality of life had improved after Claude became the sovereign and reduced the corruption from his father’s and brother’s reign, there were still many greedy and power hungry scum that he had to deal with. For this reason, his desire to approach someone seemingly as kind as you became stronger. 

And so, your regular tea time with Claude commenced. 

Yandere  

~Once Claude develops affection for you, he would have possessive traits as a yandere. He has lost so much already too, to make sure it does not happen again, he would want you to belong solely to him. He would keep you away from everyone else. 

~He will be clingy; there is no respect or regard for any boundaries you set. If he wants to touch you, hug you, and show affection, but you find his touch aversive or ever try to pull away, he will simply ignore you and force you to comply with him. If you struggle too much, he will use a spell that acts a relaxant to cease your thrashing. 

~Although Claude is rather temperamental and threatens people easily, he would have a bit more patience with you. But, he will not hesitate to threaten you if you give him too much trouble. If anything or anyone else tries to hurt you or take you away from him, he will hurt them. Ruthlessly. 

~He keeps you isolated so the chances of someone else trying to steal you away from him are low. However, in any instances you were out in public, he expects you to stick to his side and not initiate or respond to anyone. He expects you to stay quietly and obediently by his side, and let him do the talking for you to keep you fully to himself. 

General things 

~Once your relationship has been there for enough time, he will gift you your own palace. But even before that, he will spoil you lavishly with the most beautiful jewels and clothes he wants to see you in, or think you will look beautiful in. 

~When it is just you and him, he prefers you to wear simple robe dresses that are revealing and easy to access. When he wants to cuddle you, and with any physical intimacy, he enjoys the touch of your warm skin against his own. 

~When he is stressed, he likes you to lay down on your lap and nap while you play with his hair. 

And Claude is a boobs man

#yandere claude #wmmap #who made me a princess #yandere x reader #claude de alger obelia #wmmap fanfiction #claude x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #wmmap headcanons #yandere claude de alger obelia #yandere wmmap #claude de alger obelia x reader #possessive #jealousy #ambivalent writes

[yuexuan]

Fiction recommendation 21

Time for some more fic recs because its been awhile since I did them!

1. 幻想农场 (Fantasy Farm)

Author: 西子绪

Farming/slice of life, food fic, supernatural, mythology

Summary [taken from novel updates]:

After being fired, Lu Qingjiu finally decided to return to his hometown to farm.

At first, he started raising a pig, and then he found that the pig could solve more high-level math questions than he could.

After that, he started raising a flock of chickens, and then he found that his own fighting ability was one-tenth of that of a single chicken.

Finally, Lu Qingjiu finally realised that this old home wasn’t quite right… Especially a certain person by his side who constantly stared at him day in and day out.

Lu Qingjiu: “Are you drooling because of the spicy stir-fry I’m holding or because of me?”

Bai Yuehu pointed at the stir-fry.

Lu Qingjiu: “Then can you let go??”

Bai Yuehu reluctantly glanced at Lu Qingjiu’s arm, before loosening his teeth.

Comments:

My first thought is: don’t read this fic when you’re hungry. Every chapter is filled with delicious descriptions of food that’ll make one’s mouth water. The novel makes a lot of references to creatures from the Classics of the Mountains and Seas, which is a delight to learn about. An easy-to-read, fun novel. 

Novel | Novel [Eng] Translation 

2. 全球高考 (Global Examination)

Author: 木苏里

Infinite flow, suspense, action

Summary [taken from novel updates]:

One day, You Huo and his famiIy was puIIed into an exam caIIed the GIobaI University Entrance Examination. Going through exams together with other unfortunate examinees, their Iives are put at stake and they can only Iive by passing each exam. However, something about these exams and the system controIIing it didn’t seem right — lt seemed to be trying to trap the examinees with ridiculous ruIes and strange questions…

There, You Huo meets lnvigiIator 001 who seems to hoId a key to the past he no Ionger remembered and, together, they go through the exam, unravelling the mysteries behind their past and the system.

Tldr: A pair of chaotic madmen work together to go against the examination system while feeding the readers dogfood.

Comments:

I admit that I didn’t like the story when I first started reading it. But as the story progresses, the rules of the examination fall into place and the different examinations got very challenging and interesting. The whole power couple and stranger-to-lover tropes are an added highlight. 

Novel | Novel [Eng] Translation | Audio drama | Manhua

3. 全球上线 (Earth Online)

Author: 莫晨欢

Infinite flow, suspense, survival, action

Summary:

Six months ago, tens of thousands of huge towers appeared all over the world, floating over cities. No one could do anything about them.

Half a year later, people are used to the towers and learned to ignore them.

One day Tang Mo saw a bug fly towards one of the towers and hit it.

The next day, a child's voice announced to the entire world: Ding dong! 15th November, 2017, the earth went online.

   The three iron rules of the towers:    (1) The towers shall explain everything.    (2) The game time starts from 6:00 - 18:00.    (3) All players please try their best to attack and defeat the towers.

Comments:

Another suspenseful infinite flow stories. I love the smart power couple dynamic, how the two of them become powerful when they collaborate, but are also equally capable of defeating the towers’ levels by themselves. Moreover, all the characters don’t have your typical “oh let me be a hero and save everyone” complex. They all weighed the benefits and costs at each turn and are capable of making decisions that best maximize their chances of survival - whether that is ruthlessly killing other players or extending a saving hand. All the powers and items that the players received and the world-building are very unique (especially Tang Mo’s and his book haha). This one is gonna challenge your brain a bit, but definitely worth a read. 

Novel | Novel [Eng] Translation 

4. 不要在垃圾桶里捡男朋友 (Don’t pick up boyfriends from the trash bin)

Author: 骑鲸南去

Infinite flow, transmigration

Summary [from novel updates]:

Chi Xiaochi: fourth-rate citizen at birth, three-time award-winning film emperor, second-rate temper, first-class looks. He crawled his way out of hell on hard mode to become a winner at life.

Then, he was smashed into a vegetative state by a chandelier.

061: Hello, here’s a brief rundown on the scum gong reconditioning system. This system measures the regret level of the scum gong. Every time their regret level reaches one hundred points, you will be able to leave the current world. A friendly tip, usually, through dedication and self-sacrifice, our employees slowly foster a sense of dependency in the scum gongs, gradually making it so the scum gongs can’t live without them.

Chi Xiaochi: How many regret points is a complete loss of reputation and standing worth? How about a fall from grace? Or wanting something but never being able to obtain it?

061: ……

Comment:

Don’t let the title fool you. I entered the novel thinking it’s some meet-cute modern-day slice-of-life comedy, but it turns out to have some really good angst and adventure moments in there. Heck, it’s been awhile since I cried for a novel. :’) 

There are ten arcs (i.e. worlds) that the protagonist enters, each with its own backstory, so this novel might feel longer than the usual danmei. Nevertheless, I enjoyed all the details placed into each world and all the side characters. I also like that the protagonist is very smart and cunning and he grows throughout the different worlds. The only con I’ll say to this is that everything proceeds a bit too smoothly, especially with the golden finger of 061, so the protagonist can come off as being too OP. Nevertheless, the ending and last world are just huge tear-jerkers. 

Novel | Novel [Eng] Translation

5. 迪奥先生 (Mr. Dior)

Author: 绿野千鹤

Comedy, fluff, romance 

Summary [from novel updates]:

One day, Zhang Chenfei met a car accident. Fortunately, he didn’t suffer any serious physical injuries. However, due to the impact of the car crash, his brain’s perception of the real world had turned into that of the novel that he was reading prior to the accident. The thing that horrified his wife, Jiao Qi, was… the Smart Brain, Louis XIII downloaded a series of books which meant that his husband would turn into a different character each time!

How will our adorable little wife deal with this kind of husband who seemed to suddenly suffer from multiple personalities?

This novel’s plot focuses on Zhang Chenfei’s changing personality based from the characters in the books, and how his wife, Jiao Qi, deal with every character as he will have to act in sync with whoever his husband’s character is. This is per the advise of the private doctor since treatment of this special condition was still under research.

As they act out their roles, they will gradually discover and learn more about the other, which they’ve never known in their seven years of living together.

Comment:

The amount of second-hand embarrassment and cringe I got from this novel is huge and I love it lol. If you are curious about how cheesy and cliche Chinese romance can get, please do try reading this. It includes some of the worst and most dog blood tropes in a comedic and satirical way, while advancing the main pairing’s relationship at the same time. Truly a fun read!

Novel | Novel [Eng] Translation | Manhua

Other quick links:

Fic tag guide

My previous recommendations (mostly danmei + fanfics)

List of novels/fics that I have already read

#recommendation #danmei #danmei recs

[dismyblog]

remarried empress could have just made rashta a noblewoman who got abandoned by viscount lotesshu's son when his father disapproved of the relationship.

i'm going to try and put this under a "read more" but im on mobile so idk if it will work

remarried empress is a very good story. yes the protagonist is an empress of a european inspired country and fuck noble system but in this case its a historical fantasy stand in for what its really about:

navier, a highly competent woman from a family with a history of highly competent women, working her ass of from childhood training to become the amazing and skilled leader she is and then getting cast aside by her husband and removed from her position because she wasn't like his mistress: cheerful, always smiling, adoring, beautiful, submissive, delicate, INFANTILE, and doing nothing but pouring praise and gratitude upon her man.

since its a romance story, navier is not hurting for love interests that actually value her skills and regal and offer her a way out as her husband and his mistress mistreat and humiliate her over and over but she remains by the emperor's side and shows a united front not for his sake but for the sake of her people and kingdom and because she knows the role of empress is what she wants and what fulfills her in a way no man ever could.

she only makes moves against rasta when she realizes that someone is blackmailing her, which could effect the emperor, which could, more importantly, effect her kingdom.

she only makes moves to take one of her love interest's offers and leave her husband when she finds out he's going to divorce her and take the job she worked so hard at her entire life.

it wasn't because she loved king henry, it was because he offered her the chance to remain a ruler first. if grand duke kaufman had come back to see her first she would have gone with him instead. being a leader is what fulfills her.

this is what makes navier the enjoyable protagonist she is. her goals in life come first and all she's looking for in a partner is someone who will help her reach them.

it wouldn't matter if she HAD turned out to be infertile. her skill at her job and the self worth it gave her far outweighed the fact that she was 30 and hadn't provided an heir yet. the eastern kingdom was only ass powerful as it was because she was such a great empress and partner to emperor sovieshu.

but all this is undermined by one thing: rashta is a slave.

and this isn't just some tasteless worldbuilding detail, its part of her backstory and her drive as a character. we SEE the horrors of slavery in the eastern kingdom.

and navier is the ruler of that kingdom. she's pure blooded nobility, descend from the upper class of nobles who have maintained and profited from slavery for generations.

there's not even an attempt to show navier is against slavery or doing anything to get rid of it. she just accepts that its the way things are and that a slave would never be able or worthy of taking her place.

she's the empress of this country. she complicit in this system. she the embodiment of "lawful good".

how am i supposed to simply see rashta as the greedy and power hungry mistress out to steal everything from navier with this? that's what the story wants me to think of her. that's how she's portrayed. a greedy woman that's desperate to be adored by everyone around her and the power that comes with it.

it doesn't work, the nobility of this country took everything from rashta down to her very freedom and rights as a person. all for their own gain. if she caught the eye of the emperor she deserves to take EVERYTHING she can from it and get all the comfort, luxury, and security she's never had. if she wants the throne she should take it. if she wants to secure herself by passing off the child she pregnant with as sovieshu's she should. if she wants to take the seat of empress for herself she should.

by not making rashta another noblewoman more equal to navier and instead making her a slave you turned rashta into a victim and navier into an indifferent ruler rashta has every right to hate.

it's taken us out of the story where "empress" and "concubine" was a historical fantasy stand in for "competent woman loses her job and husband because she "doesn't smile enough" and "seems cold" while her husband's mistress is "charming", "refreshing", and "adorably childlike" because she fits the ideal of the submissive infantile woman.

instead it makes them to much like their real life counterparts. it turns a great character like navier and makes her no different then any real world european queen. yeah "girlboss". great. still complicit in the horrors of slavery.

and rashta become someone who deserves not of the bad things that are going happen to her. her ending up scarred and locked in the tower awful not karma. her taking her own life is tragic.

i'm fully capable of seeing what the story wants me to see and appreciating the great character navier is so close to being. but then the story shoots itself in the foot.

and before anyone says anything. i know its a korean novel thats tackling the "historical european fantasy" genre. my points still stand. i really enjoy remarried empress but it's super imperialistic and the story and fandom does almost nothing to address it as they glorify navier and trash talk rashta.

#long post #rambling about webtoons #spoilers? #im not tagging it for the main tag

[pizzaboat]

After a particular bad storm, Luz and king decide to have a movie night..

It should be fun, but Luz just hopes the two adults joining them don't kill each other in the next 2 hours...

"No way, I'd rather clean Hooty than watch some goofy kids movie"

"But Edaaa!" The teen whined, "There's nothing else to watch, and the storm nocked out all the power!"

Sure the power was out. Courtesy of the terrible weather. The magical grid through out the building had been temporarily shut off for hooty's safety, and so most things in the house had stopped working. But that wasn't a good enough reason for Eda to sacrifice napping time.

Eda watched as the human brought the box containing some human *VHS tape* titled "The Lion king" up to display. 

"Come on Its a classic," Luz pleaded, " and you agreed, after some persuasion-"

- Manipulation." 

"-that you'd do something with me and King," Luz pointed, "And you said I could pick. I pick movie night."

"Hey, I say alot of things. Doesn't make 'em true." Eda said with a shrug, "And don't even try to give me any puppy dog eyes kid, I'm immune now."

Luz pouted, and Eda watched as an idea formed on the girls face. Never a good sign..

"Well," Luz said, "You think your tough, but it'd be a shame if anyone in town found out you secretly like hugs!"

"You wouldn't dare," Eda gasped, "They'd never believe you!"

"Oh really? Try me." Luz challenged.

Damn it. Blackmail. She really was her kid. Eda knew teaching her would come back to bite her in the ass.

"Fine," She sighed, "But if anyone starts singing, I'm out."

"That might be a problem.. since it's a musical,"

Titan damn it.

***

And that's how thirty minutes later everyone was gathered in the living room as Luz stuffed human candies into some contraption and King dragged an assortment of snacks to the sofa, throwing them on the coffee table.

Even Lilith had been dragged out of her cave for the night.

"I didn't know you were interested in this stuff," King said to her sister as she settled in the furthest side of the couch, away from everyone else.

"Of course I'm not," She told him, "This is the only room in the house with sufficient enough lighting to read my book."

"If you say so," He muttered.

Eda plopped down onto the couch, opposite to her;

"Yeah, Lily's a nerd," She yawned, pulling a blanket over her self and settling in, "She doesn't do fun. So don't expect her to thrive in social situations."

"I'm not a nerd!" The other woman glared, " I'm trying to research a cure. For our curses."

"Save it," Eda snorted, "I'm fine the way I am, no thanks to you."

"I split the curse, what more do you want?"

"for you to take some damn accountability." 

"How can I do that if you don't let me!?"

"I don't care, figure it out!"

"OK!" Luz cut in with fake enthusiasm, "The movies starting! Who's excited!?"

Eda snapped her gaze to the teen. The two adults had missed the worried looks both Luz and King had been giving them as things had escalated.

Eda felt a wave of guilt, as Luz wormed her way into her side, deviding the two sisters in the hopes of preventing some all out fist fight, she guessed. Eda wrapped an arm around the girl hugging her back as the movie started and music played.

"Hey king, pass some snacks up," Luz whispered.

 

"Get your own, peasant," He whispered back.

***

Lilith had tried her best to focuse on words of the book infront of her in the flickering candle light, but her gaze always wandered back to the small box set on the coffee table infront of them.

The demon had been scolded multiple times by the other two, as he always managed to sit himself directly infront of the screen every five minutes, completely engrossed in its contents.

Lilith didn't do musicals. She hated them. Always had.

Edalyns loud complaints and groans of annoyance when the characters had broke into song, were more obnoxious than the movie its self.

That was new.. wasn't Edalyn big into musicals back when they both were in school?

The human had sung along to every word, boasting that she knew the lyrics to all the "Disney songs," What ever the hell a Disney was, Lilith didn't know. And she didn't want to find out.

Lilith had also noticed the wary glances the human sent her every now and then, as if she thought Lilith would pounce on them all. Lilith couldn't blame them for that one, so she did her best to keep her gaze anywhere else but the rest of the room, and focused back in on her book.

***

King could sympathise with the young creatures desire to become king and rule over all those bellow him. The young lion was the most relatable main character he'd ever seen. Much better than those characters from Luz's books. 

Someone hungry for status much like himself. Though King was already a king. Feared by all.

He clapped when Simba scratched the hyenas face. These animals names were weird he decided though. Lions. Hyenas. Elephants. The movie had even featured those freaks, the giraffes.

He understood the feeling of helplessness when both Simba and his companions had been trapped In the elephants grave yard, only to be saved by Simba's father Mufasa.

He gasped when he discovered Scar's plan to usurp his brother. Maybe Luz had chosen a good movie after all...

***

The human whiped tears from her eyes, then continued to blubber. King wailed clutching his stuffed animal. Even Edalyn seemed somewhat moved, though she didn't show it much.

The father had died apparently. Betrayed by his brother. Lured into a trap by his trusted sibling. His son used against him as bait.

OK maybe that one hit close to home. Hadn't she lured her sister to a witches duel using their apprentice against them? Seeing the broken form of the betrayed, forced images of what could have happened into Lilith's mind, and she suppressed a shudder.

Edalyn petrified. Luz skewered.

It hit her just how close she had come to getting both her sister and her sister's apprentice killed.

Damn it. She'd lost her page.

***

These guys had the right idea, "Hakuna matata", no worries. If society decides your not worth it, why not atleast relax and try to have a good time with your friends. Screw it. Y'know?

Maybe that's what she would've thought even a month ago. But she wasn't so sure that was such a great message to send kids. Abandon responsibly. She knew predictably that the movie would correct this. She was proved right of course.

***

Luz's excitement bubbled towards the end. She'd seen the movie a thousand times when she was younger. But big confrontations were always exhilarating to watch.

Though less fun when your the one confronting things in real life, that's where the beauty of fiction comes in; She was in the mood to enjoy some nice old fashioned living through fictional characters. No danger. Just movies and her family. And Lilith. She wasn't sure why Lilith was In the owl house. Not because of the storm. Just in general.

Luz would have figured Lilith would have found somewhere to stay by now. But it might be difficult for her, what with the Emperors Coven declaring her a wanted criminal, while the rest of them had been pardoned. A selfish part of Luz wished she'd just leave anyway. Her skin always crawled when the woman was around. 

Luz felt bad about this. But it didn't stop her from occasionally thinking it.

She caught a glimpse of the woman In question, when Scar had been left to be killed by the hyenas. Lilith look paler than what seemed possible with her already ivory complexion. Her gaze fixed on the old mini TV. Was she rooting for Scar or something?

Luz wouldn't be surprised.

***

The villian had recieved what he deserved. To be vanquished by his enimies. 

Lilith felt sick thinking of the similarities between her and the character.

Jealousy. Ambition. Cunning. The will to do what ever it takes. 

She knew they were different. But she couldn't help but wonder what could've happend if she were more like this "Scar" character. 

Titan. She thought this was just a kid's movie.

***

The movie finished. Eda had fallen asleep towards the end only to be gently shaken awake by Luz after. The movie hadn't been bad. She'd even enjoyed it, Eda wouldn't admit that to anyone though. Not in a million years.

Luz said goodnight with a tight, crushing hug, then carried King to bed. The little guy must have conked out at some point into the film. 

Movie night accomplished and no one had even died. A win if ever there was one.

They would clean up in the morning but for now sleep, she made her way to leave as well but was stopped by her sister.

"Edalyn, I think we should talk.."

#the owl house #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #toh king #the owl house fanfic #idk what the point of this fic was.. #toh luz #toh eda #toh lilith

[felagund-fiollaigean]

Stay tuned! We’ll be right back after these messages

A Jedi: Fallen Order fanfic

1k words of angst as Cal and Cere try (and fail) to cope with the galaxy celebrating the genocide of their people. Happy Empire Day.

Read it here or under the cut!

Cal’s terrible, horrible, no good very bad day begins when Greez turns the news on in the morning.

That in itself isn't a terribly shocking occurrence. It was common for the crew of the Mantis to listen to the morning news broadcasts as they went about their various morning routines and then gathered for breakfast and caff in the common area. Cal’s smearing jam onto a slice of toasted bread, Cere’s stirring sugar into a mug of caff, and Greez is tidying, for no apparent reason. Merrin had taken BD-1 with her on a quick scouting trip to see if she could find any edible wild plants they could add to their ship’s store of provisions.

By all accounts, today should have been a normal day.

But Cal had forgotten the date. To be fair, he thinks Greez has as well.

“... Extermination was necessary for the formation of the Galactic Empire,” a news anchor recites. “We have here the security footage from Emperor Palpatine’s office, and we can see with our own eyes top members of the Jedi Council, including Mace Windu himself, attempting to assassinate the Emperor, who was serving as Chancellor of the former Republic at the time. As further proof of the Jedi’s deranged treason, here we see Padawan Zett Jukassa making a brazen attack on Senator Bail Organa. Fortunately, the would-be assassin was stopped by stalwart members of the 501st legion.”

Cal’s mouth goes dry. He had been hungry a moment before but now nausea churns in his stomach. Zett had been his friend. The pair of them were nigh inseparable until they were taken by masters and began training separately. The last time they had talked had been only a week before his master was killed.

Cere’s mug of caff drops from her hand and shatters on the floor.

“Jrik, what motivation could a Jedi Padawan have for attacking a Senator?”

The grainy camera footage vanishes and is replaced with two humans inside a sleek news studio, wearing crisp robes seated at a spotless table.

“Well, Assawle, once the Jedi revealed their real motivation for fighting in the Clone War, it becomes clear the entire order must have been deeply, deeply deluded by their lust for power. Evidently, they were far gone enough to brainwash their young initiates into supporting their goals. It’s impossible to tell for how long their organization had been planning this coup, but it’s very possible that it was their goal since the conception of their religion.”

“Religion? More like a cult, if you ask me.” The other anchor quips.

Jirk chuckles, and the sound of it makes Cal feel even sicker. “You got that right. Well, we can all agree we have our boys in white to thank for keeping our galaxy safe from the violence and tyranny of the Jedi. I know I sleep better at night knowing that they’re well and gone.”

“Well said, Jirk. And you know what I always say. A good Jedi is a dead Jedi.”

“Hey, that’s a good one! I’ll have to remember that. The parade here in the upper levels of Coruscant is expected to begin any minute now, so stay tuned, we’ll be back to report on the Empire Day festivities as they-”

“Well, that’s enough of that,” Greez almost shouts as he switches off the holo-screen. “Nothing interesting on this morning, no use burning the bulbs out if there’s nothing worth reporting. Don’t worry about the mug, Cere, we have plenty others.”

Any other day, Greez would absolutely want Cere and everyone else in the next 3 systems to worry about the mug. But today he busies himself with the broom and doesn’t comment on it again.

Cal reminds himself to breathe. He looks at Cere, who’s gone almost as pale as he is and hasn’t yet stopped staring at the screen.

“Cere?”

She doesn’t seem to hear him.

“Cere!” He moves to stand between her and where the news used to be, and that seems to get her attention. Her eyes snap to his, as if suddenly awakening from a dream.

“Sorry, Cal. Are you okay?”

He nods. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He wants to call out her brazen lie for what it is, but doing so would make him a hypocrite, so he leaves their falsehoods hanging awkwardly in the air between them.

“I… Greez, let me help you with that.” She turns around suddenly and busies herself with fetching a damp rag to wipe up the caff that was spilled on the floor.

“No no, I said don’t worry about it. You just take it easy, Cere.”

As if sitting around would bring the Jedi back. He knows Greez means well, but Cal isn't in the mood to deal with their captain’s fussing, so he turns on his heel and strides back to his cramped quarters, notions of breakfast entirely forgotten.

Yes, today seems like an excellent day for staying in his room and shutting out the rest of the world.

He pulls his headphones over his ears and turns the volume of his music up as high as it will go. Prauf liked to warn him he was going to go deaf that way, but Cal doesn’t care, and thinking of Prauf only hurts more. So he closes his eyes and tries very hard not to think of Prauf, or Zett, or Caleb, or his Master. He doesn’t think about the men with matching faces who had been his friends once, who managed to destroy everyone and everything he loved in one fell swoop. He doesn’t think about Cere in the common room, who seemed determined to pretend that everything was just fine. He doesn't think about the billions of beings who thought he had been brainwashed by a fucking cult.

The music is hard and fast and he focuses on it until it consumes him completely. He lets his upper body rock with the rhythm and empties his mind until there’s nothing left in his consciousness but sound.

#jedi: fallen order #jedi: fallen order fanfic #cere junda #cal kestis #jedi fallen order fanfiction

[meta-squash]

Brick Club 1.8.3 “Javert Satisfied”

I know this is technically a “good thing” since otherwise Valjean’s testimony would be for nought, but everyone except the prosecuting attorney agrees that Valjean is the real Valjean. I guess some part of me would expect for everyone to still think that Madeleine had gone crazy, or to somehow still be affected by the respect and veneration for Madeleine as mayor. But that’s not the case, and pretty much everyone believes that Madeleine really is Valjean.

Quick note that the lawyers also try to pull in all sorts of nitpicky bullshit to try and get Champmathieu indicted anyway, which courts still do today.

“This sentence, containing a great many ‘of’s, is the prosecuting attorney’s, written by his own hand, on the minutes of his report to the attorney general.” Maybe I’m wrong, but I feel like the comment on all the “of’s” goes hand in hand with the earlier critique of the provincial language of the courts.

“...although the judge was a kind man and quite intelligent, he was at the same time a strong, almost zealous royalist, and had been shocked when the mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer, in speaking of the landing at Cannes, had said “the Emperor” instead of “Buonaparte.” A supposedly impartial person whose impartiality is a requirement for him to do his job well, actually be affected by his personal opinions and biases. I mean, that hasn’t changed in 150 years, that’s for sure. *cough Amy Coney Barrett cough* But it’s such a tiny little thing. Would the order of arrest be granted so quickly if the judge hadn’t caught that little honorific slip-up? It’s also just an example of the kind of knife-edge that things like someone’s life sits upon when in the hands of the courts. This is probably not the first case where a tiny, unrelated detail like that weighted the balance between life and death or freedom and prison for someone in this court.

Okay I don’t know anything about couriers and letter-sending and doing things quickly. If this is an official letter sent by courier, would that be one person riding horseback, without a carriage? Surely that would be faster than a horse pulling a vehicle? Especially since the deliberation went on for a little while after Valjean left the courthouse, and then the judge went in with the prosecutor, and then the letter was written and sent, but it got to Javert in M-sur-M soon enough that Valjean only had time to send his letter to Lafitte and briefly see Fantine. I’m just trying to figure out the timing of all of this.

“The buckle of his leather collar, instead of being at the back of his neck, was under his left ear. This denoted extraordinary agitation...For his collar buckle to be awry, he must have just had one of those shocks that could be called inner earthquakes.” I know the descriptions of Javert a few paragraphs later as being overjoyed means that this “agitation” is most likely shocked excitement, but I don’t know, something about this description is so weird to me. It’s the “inner earthquake” line, I think. That feels a lot more “negative” than excitement. Javert’s entire world has been shaken by this information. Perhaps it’s because this is so big. Really, it gets treated with such flippancy within the narrative, but a respected, well-known, charitable member of society in a mayoral position ends up being a wanted convict, and Javert was not only right about it, but right about it twice. That’s big for Javert himself, but it’s also big in general because it’s probably the first time Javert has ever uncovered something like this and been right about it and then told he was wrong and then proven right again. Plus the fact that he was hiding his convict identity the whole time while being a high-ranking, well-loved, leader of the community. Like, a “criminal” government official isn’t just corrupt in the usual way, he was fully a convict the whole time with a hidden identity and everything. It must be mind-blowing for him. And it’s interesting, Valjean is the only one who’s able to deliver multiple earthquake-status blows to Javert’s world throughout the book. (Valvert shippers, I’m starting to understand your perspective a lot more in this read-through than my last two.)

“...Javert turned the knob, pushed the door open as gently as a nurse or a police spy...” What an odd comparison to make. Nurse or police spy? Those are two incredibly disparate professions with totally disparate morals. Nurse implies a calm gentleness, a gentleness that is maybe nurturing or healing or at least positive in some sense. Police spy implies a much more cautious gentleness, one whose purpose is sneaky and definitely not positive towards those behind the door. How is Javert both a nurse and a spy? Unless he’s Harold Shipman, I’m not sure what to make of the connection to the nursing profession.

“Properly speaking, he did not enter. He remained standing in the half-open doorway, his hat on his head, his left hand in his overcoat, which was buttoned to his chin. In the bend of his elbow could be seen the leaden head of his enormous cane, which disappeared behind him.” Okay So this paragraph in context with the chapters before and after it are really interesting. He doesn’t enter the room at first, just stands in the doorway. He only enters the room after both Fantine and Valjean have noticed him. I’m sure there’s a good horror movie example out there, but it’s like he’s not allowed to enter until he’s noticed. Like he’s not allowed to exist for others until they see him. Does that even make sense?

“There is no human feeling that can ever be so appalling as joy. It was the face of the devil who has just regained his victim.” Man, I like the Hapgood translation of that second sentence so much better: “It was the visage of a demon who has just found his damned soul.” Like, it’s not Javert who has singularly persecuted Valjean (I mean it is, but not really), Valjean isn’t Javert’s victim. Valjean is persecuted by society, Javert is just there to collect someone already marked. He’s not the only one doing the marking. So I like the symbolism of a demon collecting a damned soul.

“Javert’s satisfaction radiated from his commanding attitude. The deformity of triumph spread across his narrow forehead. It was the full quotient of horror that only a gratified face can display.” I love this chapter for its bizarre contrast of ugliness and grandeur. Everything Javert does in this chapter is this gross, twisted version of divine justice. His joy, which should be a beautiful and pure emotion, is perverted by its circumstance. And the description of how scary a satisfied face can be is so good because it’s so viscerally descriptive. You see that exact face on every video of a cop being a racist, condescending, sanctimonious, power-hungry cunt to people on the street. That face of “I’m better than you and I have power over you and there’s nothing you can do about it so ha ha I win.” It’s more evil than antagonists who know they’re evil because Javert fully thinks that his actions and thoughts are right. And Hugo points it out here. Triumph and glee for the wrong reasons doesn’t make a person beautiful, it deforms them.

I actually love the description of how joyful Javert is because it’s clear that this is personal for him. When he arrested Fantine and sat down at his desk to write out her sentence as a one man judge-jury-executioner, he wasn’t gleeful like this. He wasn’t sad about it, he just was. He was doing a duty and Hugo even says that he was very thoughtful about it and spent time cataloguing what he saw in order to decide what to do. This isn’t the same type of detached judgement and condemnation. This is fully personal glee at being able to be vindicated.

“At that moment Javert was in heaven. Without a clear notion of his own feelings, yet with a confused intuition of his need and his success, he, Javert, personified justice, light, and truth, in their celestial function as destroyers of evil. He was surrounded and supported by infinite depths of authority, reason, precedent, legal conscience, the vengeance of the law, all the stars in the firmament; he protected order, he hurled forth the thunder of the law, he avenged society, he lent aid to the absolute; he stood erect in a halo of glory; there was in his victory a trace of defiance and combat; standing haughty and resplendent, he displayed in full glory the superhuman beastiality of a ferocious archangel; the fearful shadow of the deed he was accomplishing, making visible in his clenched fist the uncertain flashes of the social sword; happy and indignant, he had gnashed his heel on crime, vice, rebellion, perdition, and hell, he was radiant, exterminating, smiling; there was an incontestable grandeur in this monstrous St. Michael.”

I have multiple things to say about this passage so I think I’m going to break it all down into different paragraphs because there’s A Lot of different things in my brain.

First of all this is an echo--this time righteous and vindicated--of Javert’s feelings from 1.5.13. Madeleine lets Fantine go and Javert has this thought: “Or, in view of the enormities he had witnessed over the last two hours, was he saying to himself that he had to resort to extreme measures, that the lesser had to make itself greater, for the detective to turn into a magistrates, the policeman become a judge, and that in this shocking turnabout, order, law, morality, government, society itself, were personified in him, Javert?” In 1.5.13, Madeleine’s authority overruled him, protected Fantine and humiliated Javert. In 1.5.13, he is forced to accept defeat. Now, he has all of the authority, all of law and reason and justice behind him because Madeleine no longer has that same power. Javert is again the personification of justice, law, society itself, but there is not Divine Authority to stand up for Valjean as there was for Fantine. Javert is vindicated here for his earlier humiliation, with all levels authority backing him up this time.

“Without a clear notion of his own feelings, yet with a confused intuition of his need and his success, he, Javert, personified justice, light, and truth, in their celestial function as destroyers of evil.” Okay hold on wait. In 1.5.13, Javert has a moment of nearly breaking the fourth wall, nearly deciding that he needs to become a Symbol in order to restore the balance of authority and justice that he feels Madeleine has knocked askew. He is very much aware of his potential to personify Law and Justice etc. But here Hugo says that he does all of this with “confused intuition” and without a clear idea of how he feels. Interesting that when he is conscious of being able to become a symbol, he is prevented from doing so, but when he actually becomes a symbol, he’s unaware of it. Also, here’s another moment of Javert clearly Feeling Something but not fully understanding it, again a thing that only Valjean seems to provoke in him. (Oop more Valvert fodder.)

I don’t really know what to make of the superiority complex that Hugo describes here. Obviously Javert thinks that he is righteous and that he is doing a Great And Grand thing and that he is avenging society by ridding it of the scourge of the evil deceiver convict Jean Valjean. But the way Javert’s righteousness is describes feels like almost more of a “nanny-nanny-boo-boo” feeling. Is your righteousness truly righteous if you’re feeling personal satisfaction and personal superiority about it?

Javert is literally the Angel Of Death here! I know in my last post I talked about Javert as the grim reaper entering the room. His comparison to St Michael confirms this. Michael is a seraph, which are winged celestial beings with a fiery passion for doing God's good work (which is interesting to me considering how much Valjean’s symbolism is associated with fire). In Roman Catholicism Michael is the Angel Of Death who descends and gives the person the chance to redeem themselves before dying. He is also the one who will weigh people’s merits on Judgement Day. Except! Javert is Michael without mercy or patience! He judges without allowing a chance for redemption. We saw this in 1.5.13 when he sat down and wrote out Fantine’s sentence while she simultaneously explained her situation and begged for mercy. We see it now. Javert as St Michael is “monstrous,” he is the St Michael that defeated Satan, not the healing protector Michael. We even have the sword imagery. Michael used the sword to best Satan in battle; except this time the sword is “social” and to Javert at this moment, Valjean is the personification of Crime-As-Satan.

(Side note: something I love about Javert is that he as a human being isn’t really portrayed as an avidly religious person, at least not in the ways that Valjean or the bishop are portrayed as religious people. But his symbolism sure is religious. I think that’s one of the drastic differences between book Javert and stage Javert. Stage Javert is portrayed as a religious person but his symbolism is more human.)

“Probity, sincerity, candor, conviction, the idea of duty, are things that, when in error, can turn hideous, but--even though hideous--remain great: their majesty, peculiar to the human conscience, persists in horror. They are virtues with a single vice--error.” Hugo’s thought about duty done in error is so interesting. He says something similar when talking about Problem of the monastery: “To mistake a grave error for a duty has a grandeur of its own.” For Hugo, the fact of having such strong conviction alone is a grand thing. Having conviction, having a sense of duty is always a good thing--the error is not in the sense of duty itself but in what that allegiance might be to. The virtues of duty or honesty or conviction are by themselves inherently good, but they can be misused and misinterpreted and made wrong.

(Side note: This is actually a really interesting thought re: Grantaire! Hugo holds not just having beliefs but having faith in and conviction about your beliefs in such high regard. Which makes Grantaire, who is conviction-less and faithless, in the midst of all these people who are so loyal and committed to their beliefs and ideals, not a mild contrast but a massive one.)

“Without suspecting it, Javert, in his dreadful happiness, was pitiful, like every ignorant man in triumph. Nothing could be more poignant and terrible than this face, which revealed what might be called the evil of good.” God I love this line. “The evil of good” is a concept that really, really, really needs to be common usage. I feel like this line specifically really needs some in depth analysis but also I don’t really know what to say about it except that it’s just so true. Regarding Javert being “pitiful” in his happiness, this kind of reminds me of Mme Victurnien? Both think they’re doing a “good thing” and their deeds ruin lives; their triumph and feelings of righteousness are pitiful for this reason. Again, it’s the equivalent of a “ha ha I win” bully moment, but with much worse consequences. Man, I feel like this chunk needs more analysis than this but I don’t know what to give it.

#les miserables #les miserables meta #brickclub #lm 1.8.3 #les mis #les mis meta

[thatwritergirlsblog]

Books You Should Read to Improve Your Writing (Fantasy Edition)

1. The Language of Thorns by Leigh Bardugo

Travel to a world of dark bargains struck by moonlight, of haunted towns and hungry woods, of talking beasts and gingerbread golems, where a young mermaid's voice can summon deadly storms and where a river might do a lovestruck boy's bidding but only for a terrible price. Inspired by myth, fairy tale, and folklore, #1 New York Times–bestselling author Leigh Bardugo has crafted a deliciously atmospheric collection of short stories filled with betrayals, revenge, sacrifice, and love. Perfect for new readers and dedicated fans, these tales will transport you to lands both familiar and strange—to a fully realized world of dangerous magic that millions have visited through the novels of the Grishaverse. This collection of six stories includes three brand-new tales, all of them lavishly illustrated with art that changes with each turn of the page, culminating in six stunning full-spread illustrations as rich in detail as the stories themselves. (Goodreads summary)

Aspects of writing this book will teach you: Mythology, Fairy Tales & Short stories

This is one of the few books to receive a 5/5 star review from me. It was so stunning that I just couldn’t put it down. Each story is rich with original myths, interesting lessons and gorgeous story lines.

If you want to write fairy tales, short stories or mythology - this is the book for you.

2. His Dark Materials series by Philip Pullman

The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and The Amber Spyglass are available together in one volume perfect for any fan or newcomer to this modern fantasy classic series. These thrilling adventures tell the story of Lyra and Will—two ordinary children on a perilous journey through shimmering haunted otherworlds. They will meet witches and armored bears, fallen angels and soul-eating specters. And in the end, the fate of both the living—and the dead—will rely on them. Phillip Pullman’s spellbinding His Dark Materials trilogy has captivated readers for over twenty years and won acclaim at every turn. It will have you questioning everything you know about your world and wondering what really lies just out of reach. (Goodreads summary)

Aspects of writing these books will teach you: Creating a magic system and fantasy world

Anyone who has read these books (or even watched the movie) will agree that Pullman’s magic system is unlike any other. The world is so intricately woven and the fantasy so original that it has become one of the most popular series of all time.

So, do yourself a favour and learn from the best.

3. Keeper by Kim Chance

When a 200-year-old witch attacks her, sixteen-year-old bookworm Lainey Styles is determined to find a logical explanation. Even with the impossible staring her in the face, Lainey refuses to believe it—until she finds a photograph linking the witch to her dead mother. After consulting a psychic, Lainey discovers that she, like her mother, is a Keeper: a witch with the exclusive ability to unlock and wield the Grimoire, a dangerous but powerful spell book. But there’s a problem. The Grimoire has been stolen by a malevolent warlock who is desperate for a spell locked inside it—a spell that would allow him to siphon away the world’s magic. With the help of her comic-book-loving best friend and an enigmatic but admittedly handsome street fighter, Lainey must leave her life of college prep and studying behind to prepare for the biggest test of all: stealing back the book. (Goodreads summary)

Aspects of writing this book will teach you: Pop-culture references

Most of the time, pop culture references in books feel forced and inauthentic. But not in this one. Kim sprinkles in references that are actually relevant, contribute to the scene and that readers will actually get.

4. Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor

The dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around—and Lazlo Strange, war orphan and junior librarian, has always feared that his dream chose poorly. Since he was five years old he’s been obsessed with the mythic lost city of Weep, but it would take someone bolder than he to cross half the world in search of it. Then a stunning opportunity presents itself, in the person of a hero called the Godslayer and a band of legendary warriors, and he has to seize his chance or lose his dream forever. What happened in Weep two hundred years ago to cut it off from the rest of the world? What exactly did the Godslayer slay that went by the name of god? And what is the mysterious problem he now seeks help in solving? The answers await in Weep, but so do more mysteries—including the blue-skinned goddess who appears in Lazlo’s dreams. How did he dream her before he knew she existed? And if all the gods are dead, why does she seem so real? (Goodreads summary)

Aspects of writing this book will teach you: Creating absolutely original stories and worlds

I don’t know where Laini Taylor gets her ideas, but that woman’s mind is amazing. You will never read anything else quite like this book.

5. An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir

Laia is a slave. Elias is a soldier. Neither is free. Under the Martial Empire, defiance is met with death. Those who do not vow their blood and bodies to the Emperor risk the execution of their loved ones and the destruction of all they hold dear. It is in this brutal world, inspired by ancient Rome, that Laia lives with her grandparents and older brother. The family ekes out an existence in the Empire’s impoverished backstreets. They do not challenge the Empire. They’ve seen what happens to those who do. But when Laia’s brother is arrested for treason, Laia is forced to make a decision. In exchange for help from rebels who promise to rescue her brother, she will risk her life to spy for them from within the Empire’s greatest military academy. There, Laia meets Elias, the school’s finest soldier—and secretly, its most unwilling. Elias wants only to be free of the tyranny he’s being trained to enforce. He and Laia will soon realize that their destinies are intertwined—and that their choices will change the fate of the Empire itself. (Goodreads summary)

Aspects of writing this book will teach you: Morally grey characters and political intrigue

The characters in this book have various different motivations and beliefs, and they intersect in very interesting ways. If you want to write a story that weaves together fantasy and politics, this is a must-read. 

Plus, if you want to move away from the black-and-white of old-school fantasy characters, this book will show you how to do it.

That’s all I have for you for now :)

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