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mangekyuou · 3 years

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NOVEMBER FOURTH ━ﾞ

⁺◟ PROMPT . . . “i know i can’t make you run away with me...”

⁺◟ CHARACTERS . . . roronoa zoro fem!reader mentions of the strawhats

⁺◟ GENRE . . . smut fluff oneshot

⁺◟ SYNOPSIS . . . princess ( y/n ) has bigger dreams than becoming a queen and trophy wife to a man who she doesn’t love. she doesn’t believe those dreams can come true until she meets an unfamiliar swordsman, who offers her an escape.

⁺◟ CONTENT WARNINGS . . . unprotected sex ‘ light choking ‘ oral ( female receiving ) ‘ dirty talk ‘ a bit of over-stimulation ‘ etc.

⁺◟ WORD COUNT . . . 3.2k.

⁺◟ COMMENTARY . . . ( k/n ) = kingdom’s name

a shallow swallow, followed by a silent gasp filled the dimly lit chamber, decorated with the finest silvers, golds, and platinums, all of which one could adore. the only light had come from the balcony on one side of the room. white silk curtains, made with the utmost care and finest silk in all of the lands, in front of the balcony had flown in with the nightly, cool wind allowing the moonlight to seep in, bathing the face of a young maiden dressed in a long sleeveless lilac satin nightgown, that touched the cold hard floor beneath her feet.

the straps of her satin gown were slipping off of her smooth shoulders. she draped her arm across her clothed breasts, chills going down her spine. she shivered in the nightly, sinful wind, as her head rested on the shoulder of a tall, well-built, green-haired gentlemen standing behind her.

he wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, pressing her smaller frame against his larger one. the green-haired man’s free hand had grazed the soft skin on the woman’s neck.

his touches were the opposite of his hands and how he usually was. usually, they were brutal, deadly, and could easily kill. with her in his arms, they were gentle, sweet, and full of love and admiration. even if the man was a little rough with her sometimes.

if only anyone had seen the roronoa zoro, pirate hunter and swordsman, had such a tender side to him.

if only anyone had seen who the woman entrapped in his arms was.

princess ( y/n ), the future queen of ( k/n ). she was a noble, one who hated her title since she was a weak child. the young princess was not interested in dresses, makeup, marriage and other formalities women around her age worried themselves with. she cared more for traveling, fighting, and fulfilling her own selfish desires and dreams, not those of the kingdom. it wasn’t much of a mystery as to why the dear princess was not married yet.

well, the fair maiden was engaged to be married. her wedding was all planned out and set to happen in only a few weeks' time. she would marry her a marine captain from the marine base on the island and her childhood friend who had loved her since he could remember.

a man whom she could barely stay in the same room with anymore without the looming guilt of indifferent feelings toward him.

no matter how many times those three words spewed out of her mouth...i love you...she never meant them. no matter how many times she would give the marine a kiss on the cheek to send him off for his duties or hugged him before the two had said their goodnights and sweet dreams to one another, she never felt the same way.

she did not wish to marry a man she did not love. she did not want to marry at all.

on one of her escapes from the castle, she had ridden through town, hiding her identity. her ( e/c ) eyes drifted to the long wall of wanted posters full of criminals. seeing the posters had always fascinated her, seeing the many crooks from all of the grand line. her favorites were the pirates.

oh, how she wished to be one, and run away from being stuck in a castle, in a dress. it was her biggest dream. being a pirate would help her achieve her dream of traveling across the world and learn about different islands and their past.

a historian is what you could say she wanted to be. but she could never do it under the roof of strict nobility parents and the man she was going to marry soon.

that day, her eyes had landed on two new posters that were added to the very end of the long wall.

monkey d. luffy

roronoa zoro

their bounties were impressive. she had wondered what the two could have possibly done to receive such high amounts.

and that was when the unthinkable happened. out of the corner of her eye, she saw a green-haired man with three katanas attached at the hip, traveling lonesome, looking around the town as if he were lost.

and he was lost.

when he had approached her for directions, she clung tightly to the wanted poster in her hands. zoro saw the poster in her hands, mumbling curses to himself.

“are you this man?”

“and if i am?”

as he sized her up, she had done the same. even as he threatened to unsheathed one of his katanas, she did not budge, rather challenging him to start a battle. before he could, an orange-haired girl complaining about him getting lost had dragged him away.

that, of course, was not the last time the pair had crossed paths. they had only continued to bump into one another, as the straw hats waited for their log pose to log the island so they could go to another one.

( y/n )’s feet carried her to the docks where she saw it, their ship. she kept her distance, unsure of what to think of her acquaintance's nakama, though they shared no ill-will toward her. the captain who was pretty accepting, even pulled her onto the ship with...stretchable...arms, which worried her. pretty quickly, she had learned of devil fruits and their powers, especially when the little reindeer began speaking to her.

the rest of them seemed nice and lovely. of course, it was only lovely, until his nakama began referring to ( y/n ) as zoro’s little girlfriend. except sanji, who was still set on referring to her as princess.

when his nakama had settled down, leaving the two of them. he had apologized for their behavior, to which she said it wasn’t a big deal. a short silence sounded the two of them before she had opened up to him. a man who would probably never understand what she was going through. a man who lived his days as a pirate swordsman with a bounty so high, her mother would probably drop dead seeing the two of them even near each other.

and he listened. he clung to every word like no one had done before. every word she spoke, was a melody to his ears. she did not expect him to say all the right things, and he didn’t. but he did make her think.

“why don’t you run away with us? don’t think we have a historian on the crew yet. do you want to fill that position? our captain does like you.”

the idea had run through her mind since he said it. it was on a night just like tonight, the moonlight beaming down, bathing them.

she just hadn’t expected to fall so deeply in love with the swordsman.

he allowed his wandering hand to gently grab her neck, his thumb and index finger lightly applying pressure to the sides of her neck, making her gasp once more, this one a bit louder than the last.

he slowly guided her head to look at him. her dark, lust-filled eyes had looked into his, breathlessly. he loosened the pressure, “i know i can’t make you run away with me, but i damn sure won’t let you marry some marine.”

“you’re doing a pretty good job at convincing me to run away with you, i must say,” she teased, with a playful smirk. zoro removed his hand, making the maiden pout a bit. with his strong arms, he spun her around in his hold, grabbing the soft plush of her clothed thighs through her satin dress.

“up,” he said lowly. she jumps, wrapping her legs around his torso, exposing her legs to him, leaving her satin gown to bunch up at her waist. she wrapped an arm around him, pulling his head in for a passionate kiss. he secured her legs around his waist, walking backward to ( y/n )’s large bed, stumbling a bit. as the back of his legs hit the mattress, he sunk onto it. he pulled away from the kiss, a trail of spit from their tongues breaking.

he pulled the straps of the satin gown down, the bodice following in suit, exposing her breasts to him. he wasted absolutely no time, alternating between rough kisses, biting, and suction. she kept a hand on the back of his neck, as she threw her head back in pleasure and a bit of pain. she knew she would be left with hickeys and bruises all across her breasts in the next few days.

“let that marine bastard see these the next time he tries something,” he muttered against her chest between wet kisses, making her giggle through a moan.

“so, that’s what this is? you marking me out of jealousy?”

“i’ll do more than just mark you,” he warned, pulling her out of his lap and onto the mattress, quickly climbing on top of her.

his eyes had darkened, filling with sweet lust as they raked over her naked torso. zoro shifted down, prying her legs open, occupying the space between them, his favorite place to be. he pushed up her bunched up satin dress to reveal her damp panties.

he took a finger, allowing it to slide up and down her clothed slit, staring deep into her eyes with a shit-eating grin. a string of impatient soft whimpers and sighs surpassed the woman’s lips, as she stared down at her lover between her thighs, just the place she had wanted him the most. but he wouldn’t give it to her that easily. she knew him better than that.

he had yet to plaster his favorite part of her in hickeys. her inner thighs. the green-haired swordsman could go on and on about his obsession with her inner thighs, though he preferred being smothered between them.

“zoro, come on,” she whined, allowing her impatient hands to roam his clothed strong chest.

“impatient, are we?” he raised an eyebrow.

“shut up and fucking do something, please,” she begged.

a low chuckle left his lips, “such a vulgar princess.” he pulled away from her, standing on his knees. the swordsman. he grabbed the sides of his white shirt, pulling it over his head, throwing it somewhere off into the darkness of the room. next, he untied his black bandana from his left bicep, as he climbed over ( y/n ). he took her wrists into one hand, tying them together tightly to one of the many rails of the bed frame above her head.

“zoro―”

the swordsman took her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her to look into his eyes, “impatient and vulgar princesses don’t get to touch. think of it as punishment. you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you ( y/n )?”

the maiden nodded, as she gulped. she felt a wave of chills crawl down his spine as she squirmed beneath him, her legs threatening to close. “you like when i call you that, huh? you just want to be my little good girl, don’t you? i want words this time.”

“y-y-yes...zoro. i want to be y-your good g-girl,” she stuttered out.

he released her chin, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down her body, stopping at the satin gown that still resided at her hips. his large hands gripped the sides of the gown, sliding them carefully down her legs, dropping it near the side of the queen-sized bed.

he opened her legs once more, leaving a trail of kisses, each kiss becoming rougher than the one before it. as he disconnected, she could hear a loud pop. he whispered, “you are so perfect,” between every kiss desperately as if he were never going to be able to tell her those four words again.

accompanying her deep sighs of pleasure and light pain, was a dark blush of embarrassment on his lover’s face. she could never get used to the swordsman saying such compliments while face deep in her thighs, near her delicate center.

body worship was his favorite thing, both receiving and giving, though he preferred giving. he gave one last rough kiss, before turning his attention to her now soaked panties. he slid the fabric to the side, revealing her glistening folds. “fuck,” he whispered, “i did this to you?’

“s-shut up,” ( y/n ), stuttered out, “don’t get all fucking cocky.”

he shook his head at her, allowing his fingers to spread open her glistening folds, before shoving two of his digits into her hot, wet hole. “nghh...oh fuck,” she breathed out, jolting forward against the restraints.

“what happened to being my good girl? you were doing so well,” he teased, scissoring her folds roughly. he watched with a smirk, watching her begin to lose her mind, her head tossed back in pleasure, as she tried to fuck herself onto his digits trying to match his pace. a tent formed in his pants, being restrained by the fabric of his trousers. when did his pants become so fucking tight? had they always been this way?

“you’re so fucking pretty like this. so. fucking. pretty. i hope you don’t mind me having a taste,” he muttered as he inched forward, licking a long stride up her folds, making her shiver. a loud sigh left her lips, as she pulled against the restraint, only making it tighter on her wrists. zoro chuckled against her heat, the vibrations going through her body.

he pulled away slightly, making her whimper. the swordsman spit between her folds in a way to claim her and her core as his and his alone. she could feel his spit running down her slit. it was always a sign that he would not stop until he was satisfied.

zoro grips onto her thighs, tight enough to bruise as he buried his rough tongue between her folds, drinking in her essence before his lips gently suckle on her clit. ( y/n ) gripped the rails just above her head in pleasure. the swordsman’s ears drunk up every moan, every whimper, and every cry that spilled out of his lover’s lips. he slid two fingers, curling them as his tongue circles her clit.

“zoro, fuck. i’m...ah...i’m so close,” she warned between mewls and pants. he did not stop his ministrations, rather, he continued listening to her sinful voice rising in octaves. his black, lust-filled eyes fixated on the way her face displayed the pleasure she was experiencing. her back arched slightly as her thighs tried to clamp shut, though his hands on her thighs were stronger, keeping her in place as he growled against her center.

“be still.”

her toes curl as a cry that was a bit too loud passed her lips and filled the air. her body squirmed underneath him, reaching that sweet peak. the first of tonight. he placed a kiss on her hip bone before pressing the pads of his three fingertips against her clit, rubbing rapidly. the room filled with overstimulated whimpering echoes of his name. “i know you can cum again,” he spoke, the friction of his calloused fingertips against her bud, ruthless. it didn’t take long for the band to stretch again.

“oh...fuck!”

the second peak. her body wrenched, eyes squeezed shut as she squeezed onto her the rails, the whites of her knuckles beginning to show. faded, white dots danced along the darkness of her closed eyelids, chest heaving in desperation for air intake.

zoro rose from in between her thighs, retracting his fingers, earning a small gasp. ( y/n ) laid there, her chest rising and falling, looking at the swordsman above her. his tongue wrapped around them, his black eyes never leaving his lover’s as he licked them clean, “you are as tasty as you look.”

he reached down, grabbing the hem of his trousers, “if it were any other time, i wouldn’t mind filling that pretty mouth of yours. but i’m aching to be inside of you.”

“finally,” she rolled her eyes playfully. he shook his head, “bratty until the very end, huh princess?”

“you fucking love it, roronoa.”

he smirked, “you bet i fucking do.” he pulled his trousers all the way down to his ankles, allowing his hardened cock to spring free. he pulled his trousers all the way off, flinging them onto the ground.

zoro aligned his head up with her core, rubbing the tip in her arousal to lubricate his cock before slowly singing into her tightness. a light grunt fell past his lips in satisfaction. he buried himself into her ever so deeply, making sure she felt every inch.

“fuuuck...” she mewled, head thrown back in pleasure. he slowly rolled out, only leaving the tip inside of her before snapping his hips forward in a hard thrust. he reached down, grabbing her chin, and planted an open rough kiss to her lips. as he pulled away, a string of saliva had connected their mouths.

each thrust hit the edge of her g-spot, sending shivers down her spine. he knew her body so well. a mix of profanities, moans, and skin slapping against each other filled the room. zoro felt every clench of her walls tightening around his cock, reaching down to rub at her clit. his thumb rubbed messy, rapid circles that had his lover folding in on herself with pleasure.

her eyes screwed shut, focused on the inner fire within her and the sound of the swordsman’s filthy words in her ear.

“if only you could see how you look. the future queen of ( k/n ), losing her mind, getting...fucked by a lowly pirate swordsman under the same roof her parents and fiancé,” he taunted lowly in her ear as he continued to thrust into her, “you’re mine, you understand that? you are my woman. no one else’s. no other royal, no other pirate, not even that damn marine, you belong to me. say it, say you’re my woman.”

“i’m...i’m your woman, zoro! i belong to you!” she cried out, feeling a burning, no, an aching in the lower pit of her stomach. zoro felt her clench around him, tighter than before, almost sending him over the edge. “zoro...i’m going to cum.”

his thrusts turned sloppy. he was just as close to that sweet release as she was. her orgasm hit like a hundred waves, a string of curses left her lips. the swordsman pulled away, pulling out of her just in the nick of time. he took his cock into his hands, jerking himself. white liquid spilled from his tip onto her lower stomach.

the room had gone silent for a second, as the two tried to catch their breath.

“my wrists are feeling a little numb now, can i be untied?”

“oh shit, i forgot. sorry, ( y/n ).”

zoro untied her wrist, retying his bandana on his bicep. he took her wrists into his hands, rubbing them as gently as ( y/n ) sat up. she watched him closely tend to her now-bruising wrists, seeing the admiration and love in his eyes. only near minutes ago, he manhandled her. now he was as sweet as could be.

“zoro...” she trailed off, making him look up at her. she continued, “when will you and your nakama leave?”

his face somewhat fell, “we leave in the morning. but maybe i can get nami to―”

“i want to run away with you.”

⁺◟ BACK TO NAVIGATION . . .

#one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro scenarios #zoro imagines #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #fyn #night rather than day ── 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰. 𓂃 ★☆

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themonkeycabal · 3 years

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Wandavision Ep 5 Spoilers

Wherein I watch Wandavision at a stupid hour of the morning because I do not sleep like a regular human being, and sometimes I have things to say.

Previously on Wandavision, we all discovered that Darcy Lewis and Jimmy Woo were the BFFs we never knew we needed and now can't live without. Also Wanda reminded us that she's really scary.

We should be in the 80s now, right? Ahh the 80s. Leg warmers, Aquanet, and MTV.

Baby shenanigans with crying twins. Wanda tries to magic them to sleep and it doesn't work. "Maybe we just need some help." And in pops Agnes without waiting for them to answer the door. As you do in a sitcom hell. She's got a headband and leg warmers on and is on her way to jazzercise. Of course. Is the point of Agnes to really anchor us in a decade? Asking for real. She's very "this is the era, and these are the tropes, let's all play along now."

Vision is very protective of the babies, to such a degree and with such intensity that Agnes literally forgets her line and nervously asks Wanda if she wants her to take that again. Well, then. Agnes very super a lot does not want to be wished to the cornfield.

The babies stopped crying during the whole "should we do this scene again" interlude. Vision noticed the weirdness and is trying to figure out what's going on, Wanda is trying very hard to pretend everything is normal. Agnes is being super duper bizarre in the background. And suddenly the twins are like three years old. Agnes has given up and got into the liquor. I don't blame her.

Opening credits. Okay, I'm sorry, 'baby' Vision is almost more stupidly funny than I can take. Like … what? I think I want that as my new icon, though. Also the credits are too long. I think they were very proud of their theme song, so we have to hear it all. These are my least favorite so far. Very 80s, but meh.

In the real world, Monica is getting x-rays and giving a report on being yeeted from Wanda World.

Jimmy Woo and Darcy are there to greet her at the end of the exam. "This is Doctor Darcy Lewis." Yes, she is! Still very proud. She's also the doctor of encouraging people to wear pants, shoving a pair at hospital gown-clad Monica. Erik's no-pants phase was very scarring.

The medic comes back and says the medical tests didn't work or something. The medic wants to do x-rays again because the first came back blank and also she's going to have to do another blood draw. Hmm. Monica is still somehow affected by Wanda World? Unclear on how that would work. Some sort of weird witchy radiation-like energy? Monica says 'no' to more needles and also wants to put pants on. Just let the woman have her pants.

Now we're on to a briefing with the acting Director of SWORD whose name I don't remember. He's very "government suit" bland, I have a hard time caring about anything he says. Also, does anybody else pronounce the 'w' in SWORD in their head when they read it? Like I cannot make my brain stop doing that. "s-WUH-ord'.

"Our initial theory had Wanda Maximoff as one of many victims. We now know she is the principle VICTIMIZER!" Settle down there, acting director guy. Why not say 'subject', 'suspect', 'perpetrator', or boring old 'cause of the anomaly". VICTIMIZER! Geez then. I'm going to guess his solution will be a tactical nuke or some such rot.

Jimmy gives background on Wanda.

Acting Director Guy: "The twins were subsequently radicalized, volunteering at Hydra." Jimmy Woo: "That's an oversimplification of events, but yes." I'm giving you heart-eyes Jimmy Woo.

"After unspecified experimentation with the mind stone, Maximoff gained telekinetic and telepathic abilities."

Then a weird aside where the Acting Director — who shall now be known as Acting Director Dick — wants to know if Wanda had a code name or a something, seeming to imply that not having one made her a bad guy?, and then he points out how the first time she used her powers it was against the Avengers. He totally just ordered a tactical nuke from "overreacting-government-douchebags r us". I hate this particular character trope, the government heavy who never listens to anybody and is always ready to napalm the suburbs because reasons. It's so tedious.

Jimmy points out that Wanda earned the Avengers trust and then became an Avenger herself, thank you very much. Acting Director Dick doesn't care, he's decided Wanda is a terrorist and he'll turn half of New Jersey into a glass parking lot to get rid of her. Sure am glad he's in charge of some sort of mysterious and powerful agency.

Jimmy Woo is not a fan either, and he walks back over to his new bestie and tells Darcy that while he tries not to speak ill of anybody … Darcy interrupts "then allow me", and she has no trouble saying that Acting Director Dick is, in fact, a dick. That's my girl.

Elsewhere AD Dick is blathering on about how they don't negotiate with terrorists. Well, since Wanda hasn't made any demands, or released a manifesto or anything …. Monica also points out Wanda is not a terrorist. AD Dick twists her report to make Wanda sound as terroristy as he can. I'm bored with him now.

Monica argues with him a bit and say she doesn't believe Wanda World is a premeditated act of aggression. I vote Darcy, Jimmy, and Monica wait until AD Dick is alone, and then they shove him in a locker for the rest of the season. If anybody asks he had to run back to sWUHord for meetings or something, "Darn, you just missed him. I'll tell him you're looking for him. Great. Buh-bye now".

AD Dick needs to make his big jackass point that Wanda is the most terroristy terrorist who ever terroristed, so he shows off footage of Wanda breaking into a SWORD facility to steal back Vision's body. Because that seems terroristy and not at all like some sort of emotional breakdown. As far as I can tell, she just busted open a few doors, but didn't hurt anybody. I think AD Dick doesn't know the meaning of the word terrorist.

And, yes, then she resurrected Vision in an idealized sitcom world in a small city in New Jersey. That's exactly like something a terrorist mastermind would do. Mmmhmm. Is it nice for the people trapped there with them? No, clearly not. Agnes and Herb in particular seem aware and are scared. They need to be rescued and Wanda needs LOADS of therapy. But Director Nuke the Site from Orbit over here isn't going to make anything better. Darcy, sister, shove that asshole into a locker stat.

Jimmy notes that stealing Vision's body is a violation of the Sokovia Accords. And while I appreciate his dedication to maintaining the Accords … well, I mean, look, it's body theft and all. It's not a great look; I absolutely allow that. But you can just sort of stop there. Though, that's very the Sokovia Accords "if this guy dies, his body must go to a shadowy government agency. for safety. yep."

Also Vision had a living will, where he didn't want to be used as a weapon. Sure, okay. Because I'm sure SWORD was just totally not doing anything at all with his body. Nope. Look, I'm totally a SHIELD girl and even I wouldn't necessarily trust SHEILD with that. So, who is SWORD to me? Pfft. I'd give him to Thor or something and ask him to be buried far far away. I'm just saying. I'm supposed to trust Johnny-Come-Lately S-WUH-ORD?

(In my head now is an inter-agency rivalry where SWORD is like "We have rocket ships!" and SHIELD is like "lol, our lead scientist got eaten by a rock and survived on an alien world for like six months". "But rocket ships?" "We've traveled through time a dozen times in the last year alone. We're a bigger chaotic disaster than you can ever hope to be".)

AD Dick undermines his own "SHE'S A TERRORIST!" thesis by saying she acted out of grief. And then he dismisses everybody. "Work the problem!" Uh … whut? Fine? What is the problem? That she's a WILD MURDERY TERRORIST who must be stopped! or a grief stricken woman who stole her technologically advanced boyfriend's body and probably should be talked down? Acting Director Lack of Clarity.

Jimmy wants to know how Wanda could have resurrected Vision without the Mind stone and Darcy wants to know what Vision will do when he figures it out. Fine questions, friends, fine questions. Monica is just like "acting director dick used to be a buddy but now I kind of want to punch him and am very conflicted. oh and wanda kind of freaks me out but also i feel bad for her" only she says all that without words.

Tommy and Billy are now about like 5 or 6 or something. I'm terrible with kids ages. They're up to shenanigans. Oh, they found a lost puppy dog and they're giving him a bath in the sink. It's all super adorable.

Vision wanders in and greets his family all formally and in his human face. He says he has a premonition someone might pop over. He's not a fan of sitcom neighbors either. And there's Agnes now with a dog house. How does she know whether to enter through the front door or the back door?

The dog tries to burn the house down by licking an electrical outlet? so they name him Sparky (harr harr) and Wanda magics him a collar with Agnes right there. Vision's all "wtf darling?" and she points out Agnes didn't even notice when the boys went from babies to five-year olds, she certainly didn't notice the magic collar. Agnes is trying very very hard not to notice anything. Poor Agnes.

Wanda says she's tired of hiding her abilities and Vision is Very Concerned. He's starting to figure things out.

They tell the boys they can't have a dog until they're 10, so the boys grin at each other and age themselves up to 10. That is all very unsettling. Agnes "Let's just hope this dog stays the same size." as she screams internally "save me!"

Real World. Jimmy's hustling back to the science room with coffee for Monica and Darcy. Monica is asking for some sort of wild mobile bunker to help her get back into Wanda World and Darcy's like "well, yes, but also no". But Monica knows an aerospace engineer who'd totally make it for her.

"I can't guarantee the Hex won't just mind wipe you as you go in." "What's the hex?" "Oh, it's what I'm calling the anomaly because of it's hexagonal shape. It's starting to catch on." Darcy's so proud, but Jimmy's like 'not so much' but he's too polite to say.

Monica's determined to go back in. Jimmy wants to know who the kids are, if they've id'd them or the babies and Monica's all "oh, no, those are legit Wanda's." Darcy says if she can make stuff with her mind, and all the props and whatnot in the Wanda World are real then she's wielding an insane amount of power. Monica is sure she could have taken out Thanos if he hadn't cheated and snapped her. Jimmy thinks Captain Marvel could have done it. Monica very much doesn't want to talk about Captain Marvel.

Monica has an Idea!

Ah, she wants to see her outfit from Wanda World, which is now in the real world. So, is it real matter Wanda created, or is the perception field bleeding over to make them all see that outfit in the real world. That would have been hella awkward if Monica got yeeted out of her clothes.

Monica confirms they're real then steals Jimmy's gun and shoots them. Ahh, she was wearing a kevlar vest when she went into Wanda World, and that changed shape to be her super fly 70s outfit. "Wanda is rewriting reality." Changing things to fit the hex. So they'll send in something that doesn't need to be changed. Um. Sure. Fine. I don't know what that means, or how that would help in this context, but I'm sure I'll find out.

Meanwhile, Vision is at work, and all his coworkers are amazed at the actual computers. Golly shucks. Computers. Hey, so, computers have been around since the 40s. ANYWAY.

"Should we surf the internet?" We're progressing rapidly through the 80s. Oh, lol, Darcy sent an email. And the whole office creepily reads it out loud. Vision is very weirded out. As well he should be. He wipes the computer with his glowy synthezoid powers and then he glowies Norm when Norm tells him 'none of it is real'. Norm wakes up "please help me. what day is it? how long has it been?". Oh dear. Poor Vision. This is all going to go so very badly. Norm gets very freaked out begging Vision to "stop her". Vision resets him.

At the house the boys wonder where dad is, and Wanda tells them it's Monday and he's at work. Except the boys are all "um, no, it's Saturday". Wanda, your house of lies is tumbling down! You shouldn't have let them grow up so fast. Babies don't ask inconvenient questions about why Daddy needs some space from Mommy and her questionable choices for their shared reality.

Wanda takes the opportunity to impart the 80s family sitcom trope of the weekly life lesson about how family might fight, but they still love each other and family is forever. One of the twins asks if she has a brother. She does. He's far away. But, Sparky goes barking at the door. Wanda looks far away herself. She goes to open the door and Sparky runs out.

Monica has sent in a drone from the 80s. Well that wasn't really a thing. But, how does the 1980s rc plane look more high tech than the 2020s drone they sent in first? Talk to your design team, SWORD.

Anyway, Wanda spots the drone, but she's keeping it out of the broadcast, because she's the editor and director and producer of Wandavision, of course.

Monica announces herself and tries to get Wanda to acknowledge her. Whoops. Wanda's eyes go glowy. AD Dick says "take the shot" and Monica's all "what? no, the drone isn't armed." Except of course it is, because AD Dick is a monumental dick, and he's got a backup drone pilot who takes the shot. Wandavision goes off air. And, oh no, there's a breach at the Hex!

Lol. It's Wanda coming through, dragging the mangled corpse of the drone with her. That was entirely deserved, AD Dick. I hope she shoves it up your ass, dick.

"The missile was just a precaution". AD Dick backpedals quick, like a coward. You gave a three second attempt to talk to Wanda before you pulled the trigger, I don't like you. "You can hardly blame us."

Wanda warns him to stay out. "You won't bother me, I won't bother you." Okay, well, he does kind of have a point, in that there's a whole town of people who are stuck as bit players in Wanda World. That's not very nice. I mean, surely she could have found a nice empty spot somewhere and created her sitcom utopia. That's at least a fair criticism.

Monica tries her best to talk Wanda down. It doesn't work particularly well.

"What do you want?" "I have what I want and no one will ever take it from me again." And she mind controls the soldiers training their guns on her, to turn them on AD Dick. Whoops. And Wanda goes back to her world. The Hex glows all red as she goes.

And we go to commercial. Lagos Brand paper towels. "For when you make a mess you didn't mean to." Wow, so that was brutal. Wanda's not mad at you, Monica. She's just carrying a lot of guilt. Ouch.

Back in Wandavision, the boys are looking for their dog. They find Agnes hiding in the bushes with the dog. Poor Sparky apparently ate some azalea leaves and died. The boys are very sad and Wanda warns them not to age up. They can't run from their feelings. Oh Wanda. "It's too sad," Billy says. "You can fix anything mom," Tommy cries, "Fix the dead". Yikes.

Wanda "I'm trying to tell you there are rules in life." Poor Agnes is trying not to have a total meltdown. "We can't reverse death. No matter how sad it makes us. Some things are forever."

Billy and Tommy try to talk her into bringing back Sparky. And Vision turns up. Well, this is just brutal.

Vision is entirely outside of Wanda's control. "I spoke with Norm. I unearthed the man's suppressed personality and I spoke to him free of your oversight." Yikes. "He was in pain, Wanda."

Okay it's kind of funny they're arguing over the end credits. Vision is very very pissed. "I'm scared." Aww.

Wanda insists she's not in charge of every life in Westview. "I don't know how any of this started in the first place." Huh. Is that really true? Because she's pretty sure of it now. Somebody or something convinced her into a sitcom world and now she's just like "yeah, this is good"? really asking.

Ding-dong.

"I didn't do that."

Vision: *doubt*

DING DONG

Wanda goes to answer the door.

In the real world, alarms are blaring but Darcy notices a new revelation on Wandavision.

Wanda Word — and it's Pietro at the door. See! I knew it had to be Pietro who'd be the surprise guest thingy. I mean it's hilariously X-Men Pietro (Evan Peters, like @lewstonewar suggested), but Pietro nonetheless. There's nobody else it could have been.

Darcy be all WTF? "She recast Pietro?" lol

Okay, Wanda seems legit shocked. I don't think she did that. And I super really don’t think she’d make him sound like a NYC cabbie.

And end.

Well. I mean, I'm not sure what to think. Wanda insists she's not controlling everything. I don't think she created Pietro. But, she totally stole Vision's body and created the kids and seems mostly happy in her sitcom universe and she can traverse the Hex, which obviously suggests its her doing. Dunno. I have questions about Agnes and her convenient timeliness here and there.

The mystery continues.

Disney wants to know if I want to watch Age of Ultron next. How poorly you know me, Disney.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #long post #didn't mean for it to get all long #wandavision liveblog

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astrology-with-charu · 3 years

Text

20 Jan 3:38pm ET Mars Conjunct Uranus 6º44’

Aquarius Season Begins ! Focus of Feb 2021 by sign :

So we have talked about it, warned about it, fret a little about it and at the same time felt a little excited about it. Mars Conjunct Uranus is here. As its not just a day long transit we have felt this about a week or so coming in and would continue to feel for a week on the way out though it wouldn’t ever be fully out. Fixed aspects are such they are never out of our system.

They create long term shifts in fixed corners of our psyche.

This is the most interesting aspect and to some its scary & erratic as well as it acts out of character or norm and its unpredictable. I have this aspect in my natal chart in a square and I can tell you people who deal with me have that kind of varied response too. Some find my actions interesting, some erratic, some strong willed and some think I am downright nuts - mission accomplished, keep them guessing 😉 When Mount Etna slowly but surely exploded its lava out after seething for a while it reminded me of this aspect. Whatever is hemmed in surely explodes - thats one thing thats certain of this aspect - Need for Freedom.

We take what we want from each aspect and each person so I am going to try and see if we can draw the best of this aspect. It happens every year & in Taurus it helps over seven years release fixity in comfort zone corners of our life in food, in money, in assets, in economy, in voice, in talents. The special and unique thing about it this year and about 2021 as a whole is that this aspect are / will aspect the 5 planets in Aquarius over Jan and Feb - nothing real or noticeable happens without a square - I mean what’s the point if it wont be in your face 😉. You cant ignore a square, its not easy but it makes sure you notice it and do something about it cause otherwise it just hurts too much to live with it. It actives us to make the shift.

So if you feel the pain in places you used to draw comfort from, know its your body and psyche giving you hints like boulders to make that shift.

I noted where and what this aspect is happening in my 2021 note as thats something where every fabric of your being would look for more freedom and shift in. How will it play out though, where would it manifest is another story cause those 5 planets in Aquarius in this season will help you put the sand in the sandpit for you to play in and display your need for freedom, brilliance and change. Mercury will also be going retrograde in Aquarius (30 Jan-20Feb) so you will have some rethink, rework before you put the first layer in - this process will go on this year as Saturn and Jupiter go back and forth over it helping you create source of your next 20 years of growth using this first layer of sand you are putting in Aquarius season.

Videos by sign done before :

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLv3tUTLu8-MT2IvHWqfAHwrOXVpEPjfxw

Across signs Mars Uranus is a volatile energy so physically you would want to be careful with devices, knives etc especially fixed signs : Taurus, Aquarius, Leo and Scorpio especially planets around 7º.

Let’s begin - by sign what are you about to begin:

#Aries : Network, platform, investment gains, group of influential

Looking to have a platform or a group of influential people or a fan base or a set of like minded people - your tribe who can work on the new vision you have of your life. That’s where it will manifest. What’s the driver and what’s the Mars Uranus restleness and brilliance - its in your money, confidence, self respect and assets house. You seek freedom in financials, radical self confidence in your personal assets and its a drive to prove your worth to none other than yourself. It’s you wanting to play and have fun with assets and money without being tied down. Creating all of it from the things that bring you bigger vision of life and helps you connect with people on larger scale instead of being confined and limited in your outlook to life. So you would work on money & asset shifts and manifest it in form of a platform or a network or a group of like minded people working on a larger vision - also through investments beyond a job, gains from investments. Detachment from fixity of assets and any kind of source of income that inhibits your freedom would seem urgent and essential. It might almost feel manifestation of your vision is impossible without it. Money becomes a means to freedom and you look to stop trading money for time as how you spend your time becomes more meaningful. A step towards that vision is what this season is about.

#Taurus : Job, career, leadership style, your title

Looking to start a new job or a new way to do a job or a shift in title - what you are know as and known for, shift in how you are a leader of your life. Driver is you don’t want to be who you were before. You want to detach from your past life in some ways as you would like to be more authentic to yourself, be more of you instead of what others want you to be or see you as. As you “show yourself” so as to speak - the existing mode of how you express yourself - which is normally our profession, our formal title - would also shift with it cause you want it to. Mars Uranus right now might make you feel very rebellious - wanting to jump out of your skin - sorry I don’t know why the werewolf analogy is popping in my head - you are beautiful inside out - but as risk of offending you I will use that analogy. It’s about you about to pop out - if you are a wolf inside and have been a sheep outside, it wont work for you especially not in your job. Yes it can be an erratic display, a conflict, a fight with authority but you know what - its long overdue probably. We can manage how it looks but not how it is - how it is , is how it is. So it would be a bit of truth time and time to move to what’s more real to you as you make a new start this season in your work.

#Gemini : Travel (jeez talk about being a tease), adventure, higher education, publication, putting your content on a platform, teach, higher mind

Geminis are going places, wanting to start something that gives them adventure, gives them that high vibe they crave. Aquarius season activates a very positive and to some extend radical part of their chart - this is what makes them so brilliant and interesting. They get radical also positively. They look like they are thinking of ten things at a time seemingly lost on all ten but inside they are synthesizing how to take over the world. This is where Gemini converge all they have learned and put it into a book, into a publication, on a platform, they teach, they engage with people who are different and far from them using tech and state of art platforms, they create state of art platforms to publish information thats useful and meaningful. Their drive is this Mars and Uranus bringing all thats within to right in from of them - they don’t feel scared any more of endings, of facing any demons within or outside, of facing their own fears - they have got to do it cause they are after finding their place in this wide wide universe. They are after establishing meaning of their existence and wanting to make it valuable beyond imagination. They want to wrap all their hidden talents, hidden insecurities and light it all on fire to get out in the open. It’s almost like they are asking - let me see how my worst fears play out - let me see what was I really afraid of. So I don’t ever have to use that word “fear” ever again anymore. Preach Gemini we are all ears!

#Cancer : Give & take in partnerships, Karmic, depth, healing

You know they say those who hurt so much, learn to heal others of their hurt. I always think of Cancerians when they say that. Cause why else would God or higher powers make them feel so much... unless it was to help them understand how every living being feels in every living instance. Human emotions isn’t the only thing Cancerians are expert on using their intuition on - they are sensitive on knowing the undercurrent of society and even financial world if they apply themselves to it. They are brilliant in seeing things below the surface but they create a protective layer even against their own intuition sometimes cause sometimes what they see hurts them. That sometimes makes a Cancerian stay in dysfunction longer than they should. So its a new wave of detaching ourselves from what’s karmic what’s bad for us and our intuition has told us so many times but we have been shielding ourselves from our own knowing. Its time to start a new ledger and put a knot on all old karmic ties so you establish a blank slate. A new start in much more powerful way of being when it comes to partnership, seeing the writing on the wall and handle give and take differently in relationships, use your depth and intuition in financial matters where you know things way ahead of time. Using your knowledge of matters unknown to others by putting that knowledge out on a platform, on a screen, for wide population to see. Sharing your depth, your knowing, your ideas with a larger set for their benefit versus reserving all your heart and love for one. Uranus and Mars will introduce you to unique people, offer you opportunities to work on new and state of art platforms to put your knowledge on and help you detach from past patterns in relating to others. Love is a tough topic, actually not love but intimacy and that depth & returns you seek in relationship is cause may be for far too long we have been mistaking unease, dysfunction, pain and karmic for depth and love. Love is not supposed to feel like pain. This is process of relearning it all by detaching from dysfunction. Starting new without the heavy.

#Leo : Clients, contract, commitment

Restless restless Leos have been looking for that thing, that thing they don’t know what thing, but that thing in their work, in their business, in their title, in the way they rule that domain of theirs - that links what they feel inside with a manifestation outside. They feel like a king or a queen inside - larger than life, magnanimous, caring for the people who benefit from just their smiling confident gaze. That’s their true self, that’s who they were born to be. But then life got in between and daily annoyances, need to pay the bills and take care of people got in the way. Licking the wounds of not being themselves for far too long, Leos have been waiting to roar. Fixed signs are triggered and Leos are on top of the list cause they crave and need to break out of these shackles that hold their mind down and make them be who they know within they are not. The place they would want to be themselves the most would be in how they handle their job, their work and especially in the one on one interactions with their clients and partners. You are preparing a stage for your enormous potential. It could be by working towards a new contract that allows to access to the client or people who you crave to connect with or gives you the kind of freedom and eclectic freedom and brilliance in work you crave. You want your clients, your partners, your platform to benefit from your ideas and brilliance. You need a mode to convey that - may its not in the traditional job or may be a traditional job needs to follow some new rules to make that happen. Either ways if there is not a way you will make a way - such is the fixed intensity of your Mars Uranus in your career - it will make you jump through jobs, rebel at jobs, create unique roles, create unique career - till you have got it. What would you start new to make it all happen - a new contract, a new commitment, a new partnership or a unique disruptive partner which helps you explore your own psych to see why any of the titles not fitting who you feel within. May be cause what you want doesn’t exist right now, may be cause you are a creator and not a follower, may be its time to stop looking for someone to create what you want and make it yourself.

#Virgo : Order, job, project, coworkers, work place, mind body connection

When Uranus first entered their house of higher mind over two years back, it was almost like something very subtly but surely shifted in them. Whatever they thought they knew about life and where theirs’ is going at least changed. It’s a weird thing - philosophy - its supposed to be nebulous, non physical thing but its one thing in our life which if shifts - everything consequently has to shift to adjust it. As their philosophy in life shifted and is in process of fully changing who they are - Virgos have to adjust the most important thing in their life to adjust that to go with it - their own daily routines, the thread of life that runs their physical existence - their processes, their work environment, who they work with and what kind of projects they work on and most importantly how they take care of your body. Its a cause of friction when your life philosophy and who you are within has expanded but you still continue to work with the same people or employ the same people you did before or the way you handle your body and your routines stay the same. When your higher mind has been set free you need to start a new chapter in your physical reality as well - new start in your own daily routines, when you work out, where you work out, how you take care of your body, what kind of projects you work on, who you work with or who you hire, what’s the structure of your work place, what’s the kind of workplace you go to. Its got to reflect it all - your daily environment has to mirror your higher vision else you will feel a friction in your body and that friction would show up in form of non stop conflicts with coworkers or unease in health. Use this season to break a pattern and start anew.

#Libra : Risk appetite, love, passions, children, joy

People have a lot against pandora box - I love the unexpected nature of it all - I love the fact that it shows that side of us that we knew was in us but it wasn’t oh so kosher to show up cause of others. But when you close it - the gifts go back in as well as does hope, joy and passion. The very balanced and my beautiful Librans can write their own book on balance and the evils of opening such boxes but what if it was knocking on their own doors. Uranus and Mars wakes up a dormant yet very important part of Librans thats not only powerful, its essential to help them make their passions come to life. Some call it kundalini release some call it that coiled serpent - one thing thats common in it all is that its not something that anyone attaches with a Libra archetype. Its raw passion, even anger, jealousy, need to be powerful, establish that right give and take in partnership, knowing your own worth and not being shy of making it evident and asking returns that corraborate that. Its somewhat essential to release that - cause its also the part of you that helps you go after your desires, helps you take a bit of risk in your love and professional life, helps you give birth to what you love and would cherish as your legacy. So thats where we begin - driver is to come into your own power, to release archaic ways of give and take in partnership, to let the patterns play out as they should and not on basis of how good or bad they look. What you start new to give that drive an outlet is a new passion, a new appetite for risk in life and that could be in form of a new love, a new hobby, a child, a business thats like a child - its you giving birth to what you would love, cherish and is an extension of your love for self. This is excellent season for you Libra as its your house of joy which is woken up but its facing a hesitance - a bit like resistance to ones own happiness as it requires you to go out of your element to get there. It requires you to not hide the powerful side of you when you deal with others and let them know what you know.

Don’t reduce yourself to make mediocre feel comfortable. They aren’t elevated, we become mediocre in the process.

#Scorpio : Home, family, ancestors, place of living, comfort

People don’t understand why a Scorpio needs to be sure before going into something or going “steady” and why they have to “sense” out things. Sage the hell out of their aura cause they are about to occupy mine for a lifetime says my Scorpio rising.

People don’t get that as much as we are eager to act and ready to face any consequence, we have a fixity in our relationships and partnerships. Partners and relationships never leave Scorpios even when they leave. But the “please no drama” zone of partnerships to be honest has become a bit of battlefield lately. What are we fighting for though. More freedom, more authenticity possibly. But may be more passion, more expression, more dynamism. Its such a contradiction isn’t it - the area we seek the most stability in - we also seek the most excitement and freedom in as well. That kind of freedom can only be based in trust, can only be based if we feel stable in our footing. Feel sure of the ground we stand on and then we can build all the existing relationships, connect with unique partners and clients / networks with. Aquarius season and this year of Saturn Jupiter in our house of home, family, place of living is aiming to do just that. Beef up the home metaphorically and physically. So this season we do something new in that direction so we can take more risks in our business and personal partnerships. We embellish our home, shift houses, countries, find a home within home and find the resources that beef us up from within or find that tribe we can call family that help us get there. Nothing above the surface can fly higher without that home as much as we would want to run away from it. So it might be time to put roots, find that place or do something make your family comfortable in some ways so you have a sure footing within - by purchasing real estate or changing your lease or shifting something in the house or deciding which country you would live in. Normally modern family structures and home structures suit us, possibly away from place of birth or away from parents in some ways - Scorpios cherish the closeness that comes from letting them have their “space” - may be time to find a bit of space so you can think, create and draw strength from. Beef those roots up.

#Sagittarius : Communication, immediate environment, commercial skills

Like a fish out of water, Sagittarius might have put themselves in a zone totally out of their comfort zone cause what they themselves don’t understand right now is that traditional isn’t cutting it for them as much as they are trying. Old isn’t vast enough to let them be who they need to be. The kind and level of commercial success and to some extend the kind of impact they are looking for doesn’t come from traditional careers. They are looking to create something unique and its coming in tough by sticking to old work environment or even that environment might have stopped suiting who they are becoming. Its a process that started over two years back when Uranus first started in their house of work and health - creating a bit of environment of restless brilliance which is just waiting to pop but not yet finding possibly its outlet. Not yet finding that outlet cause may be using the old skill sets and using the old teachings / learnings or old modes and methods of selling / communicating. When you cannot stand the confinement of your surrounding, usually your immediate environment needs a shift - as does the people you see on a daily basis, the road to work you take, the car or vehicle you use and the platforms / devices you use for communicating your perspective along with the words that you are communicating. This new start this season is an up skill to a new commercial reality by changing what you talk, what you sell, what your talents are. I love that unique brilliant futurist sign of Aquarius sits in mind of Sagittarius - it makes them say what they think but also say what they see far ahead of time. They blurt out outstanding thoughts... well without a thought. Possibly a new course can be pretty helpful just to open your mind to new way to commercialize those brilliant thoughts. Perhaps a new neighbourhood or new surroundings can open the mind to more suitable environment that help you commercialize. Perhaps a new platform or new communication devices help support your work in the way you would like. Perhaps a new route to work could help support the new health routine you are looking for. Anything that opens your mind to new economy would be a helpful hand in your journey to get more freedom in your work and provide a platform for you to express your ahead of time ideas. But speak, sell, communicate, connect, commercialize - its time to.

#Capricorn : Money, assets, networth and self worth

I have said it before and I am going to shout from the rooftops till everyone knows, I love love the Uranus transit Capricorn are getting on. Its so freeing - its going to free their sense of joy, their ability to connect with the fun playful innocent child within which has been forced to grow up way too fast with the last few years of transit. Uranus in your house of joy and passions is screaming to release all thats fun, confident, talented, creative, passionate about you. You feel driven to take the risks you have not taken in love, in money, in business - it creates this radical confidence in your ability to bring things to life, in your ability to give birth to the unique thoughts within. And it all, as with everything else with Capricorn, has got to be something real - something touch it feel it. The manifestation of it all to start with could be seen in your financials , in your assets, in things you are going to buy or invest in. Aquarius season starts a new cycle in your networth and self worth. New source of income, new asset, new investment, new purchase that would add to your networth and a new sense of self that helps you go after getting true value of your talents. You might even go after aquiring some talents that help you create more value e.g. in stock markets. You are on a new journey where you want to be free of guilt in being happy, in being fruitful, uninhibited smile - whatever brings that on, bring that on!

#Aquarius : You

Everyone’s talking about you or of you, you don’t necessarily like that... you didn’t ask for it but may be you did - its all been going stale for a while so you did ask for it all to become interesting and it all started being a bit more interesting two years back and now its just all changing way too fast. More importantly think I am changing too fast and rest is changing with me cause my comfort zone is shifting - cause well I wanted to do something different. So here it is that time to start new life, new you in your season - Happy Aquarius Season to you and happy birthday to Aquarius Sun. It just is how your season would be for next few years but this is a landmark one as lot of energy concentrated in your sign is being challenged by your own inertia to change things cause you feel the comfort zone will be lost in some ways - not registering there is no comfort zone anymore. When a kite has taken a flight there is no ground to rest on so its better to learn to fly breathlessly a bit cause stopping isn’t an option at this stage. Unprecedented growth is the reward awaiting of you taking over the reigns of your life in your hand. You have taken a journey where you are fully owning everything in your life, now so don’t look back - start another new chapter in that new direction you have decided to go on. There could be physical volatility in home, family or place of living - its like some constant ground you stood on is shaking - cause its limiting your ability to go where you need to. Its like you need to almost forget where you came from to become who you need to be - leaving the nest is one thing, forgetting the patterns that physically kept you there is another. This is like you are literally being reprogrammed as a person - physically in your body, in your fitness, in what kind of a leader you are and how you show up to the external world. And as part of that reprogramming, your old patterns would have to be irrevocably erased. Whatever it takes!

#Pisces : Peace, healing, health, recognizing your hidden talents & place in universe

Most brilliant creators go to isolation away from everyone to create their masterpiece even though the masterpiece is for the enjoyment of the very people they are going away from. Its like somehow they need to connect with themselves before they can give to others their best work. Its like for it all to be kosher pure chaste and brilliant it needs to be all free of any influence. Do you feel the need to shut all that noise sometimes so you can hear what the universe is trying to talk just to yourself - so you can find why you came here - what is your role and what are you here to serve. Uranus in your house of mind, create such sensitivity and brilliance in your mind that you feel sometimes an idea a minute coming - yet not having an outlet for it all sometimes just leaves a restless feeling that makes it impossible to settle down or sleep sometime. What if you needed a beat to put it all down, what if you needed to create your island so you can in that silence synthesize all that the rest of the connections have inspired you to think of. I am in no way suggesting its time to go on a mountain but I am saying there are two parts of you - conflicting parts of you fighting it out right now. One is teaming with day to day bustle, so much talk, so much information, so much connection, so many ideas, so many people in surrounding acting erratically. Yet not being able to leave that cause I know I can create here something unique, I am learning so much commercially, I am meeting so many unique people, I am actively engaged in my mind and body. Yet this can make you exhausted and scattered. Aquarius season and this year helps you find that corner behind the stage where all the real work happens. You work on a network project behind the scene there, you find peace in your thoughts there, you possibly connect with your hidden skills there, you meditate, put yourself in unique healing positions and potions to bottle all that brilliance into something of value, something of impact, something that can benefit many people. Gift that place behind the stage this season by starting a practice, finding your spirituality again, work on a behind the scene project thats your vision, deal with your fears and inner world. Its going to completely change how you deal with that active, bustling yet brilliant external life of yours. All innovators do this and you are one. All innovators also decide to give away & serve before they get & gain.

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samatedeansbroccoli · 3 years

Note

HOW YOU DOINNN

4, 11, 21

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

Took a while to figure this out

Famous Last Words — Writerofthelorde (Star Wars; Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus)

AU where the last word you speak before dying is tattooed on your wrist.

Nothing Left to Say — canofwhoopasstiel (Attack on Titan; Jean Kirstein/Marco Bott)

When Jean Kirstein body checks a guy on his way to detention, he didn't realize he'd soon be labeled as "that guy who beat up the deaf kid."

He also didn't realize "the deaf kid" would be really hot.

meat — allwellandgood (formally Askance) [also the creator of Ao3] (Supernatural; Wincest)

Sometimes—lately, especially—he thinks about what it would be like to eat something really, desperately hot—Sam's heat, the fever-warmth that comes off him in this tiny space.

Honorable mention, because this fic is so good:

Carry On — TamrynEradani (Supernatural; Destiel) [PDF because OP took the fic down, but someone saved it as a PDF]

When Sam gets into Stanford, Dean needs a bigger paycheck than Bobby’s garage can give him. Luckily, he knows a guy.

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

I used to stuff summaries into my titles. So one of my first fanfics, Circles of Confusing Love, was about all the Star Wars TFA characters falling in love with one another (only read it if you want to witness Hell). Now, I typically use the last line or dialogue I write, such as with my COD Mason x Woods fic, Thought You’d Never Ask. Occasionally, I title it the repeating dialogue or line I use, such as in my COD Ghost x Roach, What’s There to Talk About?. And any others that don’t fit under the above are just random titles I happened to come up with.

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Probably letting my ideas get too big and then I either have a 20K word one-shot or a 40K chaptered story. Too much to keep track of once they get big, and frankly I’m more prone to boring myself with them upon editing.

Such is what happens when I deviate from the original idea XD

Wanna ask me a question? Here’s the writer’s ask!

#thebroccoliresponds #wack how I don’t like reading smut #but carry on is one of my favorite fics

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strwberrytae · 4 years

Text

Karma | 01

✦ characters: warlock!yoongi x witch!reader ft. warlock!taehyung ✦ summary: you never wanted to be a part of a coven but sometimes you crave to be a part of one. they seem too structured and formal for your liking, so being a Solitary Witch seemed more appealing. a Solitary Witch is a witch that practices magic alone, without a coven. that and the last coven you were a part of kicked you out due to your refusal to practice the darker magic that they were so drawn to. this meant losing your friends and a boyfriend that you loved you deeply. but after meeting a Solitary Warlock, you found yourself wanting to be a part of something again - maybe a coven or maybe something more. ✦ genre/words: witchcraft. mild violence. death. drama. light flirting. | 5.3k → chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 → [mini series in progress] ✦ moodboard made by me ✦

What exactly does it mean to be a witch? You ask yourself that very question everyday. It has a different meaning to everyone. Hence why there’s 10 different types - that you know of. It’s only been a year since you left your coven. To be honest, it’s been very peaceful. The life of a Solitary Witch is sometimes frowned upon. What is a Solitary Witch, one may ask. Essentially, it’s a witch that chooses to practice magic without being a part of a coven - solo magic if you will. Some witches feel that you need a coven for protection and guidance. Your coven was leading you down a dark path, so you chose to leave rather than betray them by joining another coven. They didn’t take that choice very well either.

Leaving your coven meant losing your friends and a boyfriend you loved very much. They were your family for years and then...something shifted. Su-mi, the leader of your coven, started presenting new spells and incantations to practice. Small things here and there like making someone get a flat tire on the way to work, a pipe bursting in a neighbor’s apartment just because they always gave you a dirty look, but then it got bigger. The other witches wanted to get revenge on those that have wronged them - cursing exes, bosses, the barista who got a coffee order wrong. Things were getting out of control and when you spoke up about how wrong it was, they laughed at you. One day in particular pushed you over the edge.

“Tae, I still don’t think this is a good idea,” you said as you nervously watched one of your witch sisters lying on an altar. It was midnight, witches hour, and your coven was going to sacrifice your witch sister, Ara, for a ritual. Candles and torches decorated the sacred ground to illuminate the dark area. Ara looked over at you from the altar with a cute smile.

“Relax Y/N. It’s only temporary. There’s a spell to bring me back. I’ll only be gone for a minute.” You raised your eyebrow at how nonchalant she was being about the situation.

“Ara, that’s necromancy! Once you’re dead, you’re dead. What happens if we bring you back and your soul gets stuck in limbo or something? Or what if you pass because it’s too late?” Your boyfriend, Taehyung, stood in front of you and placed his hands on your shoulders; leaning down slightly to meet your worried eyes.

“It’s okay, baby. We know what we’re doing. Don’t you trust us? We wouldn’t let anything happen to her, okay?” His deep voice and kind eyes were so soothing. You felt your doubts slowly fading but something didn’t feel right. Death was not something to play with and this was crossing into a realm of dark magic that made your stomach churn. What happened to innocent little spells to give someone good luck or cure someone who was sick, things that helped the greater good? Now we’re doing spells that require a sacrifice so your coven can heighten their powers to become stronger? Nothing good comes from magic that results in personal gain.

You took a deep breath and nodded your head slowly. Tae smiled at you and cupped your cheeks to press a gentle kiss on your lips. He lightly brushed your hair behind your ear after pulling away.

“That’s my girl. Now, did you bring the knife?” Reluctantly, you pulled the antique athame, ceremonial blade, from your bag. It was your job to find it for your coven’s use and although it was an easy task for you, it was easier than handing it over to your boyfriend. Behind him near the altar stood Su-mi, with a proud smile on her face. A part of you felt that smile was more deviant than anything else. Su-mi extended her hand towards Taehyung to get him to walk towards the altar. Your boyfriend was the strongest warlock in the coven. Naturally, she always chose him to do the dirty work, and you hated it.

Taehyung walked to the altar as you stayed back. Your brothers and sisters gathered to form a circle around the altar. They held hands together and began the incantation. One of your brothers turned around, always the sweet one who would realize that you were still left behind.

“Y/N, join us,” Jimin said kindly. All you could do was look between them and Ara lying on the table as Taehyung stood beside her with the knife in position above his head. Tears formed in your eyes and you shook your head, frozen in place. Slowly, you found yourself backing away. Su-mi scoffed.

“Leave her be. No one can force her. Her loss anyways.” Her words were so cold. She’s been questioning your loyalty to the coven for some time now and maybe she’s given up. There was no way you could be a part of this. Their voices became louder and louder. A breeze began to blow amongst the sacred ground and you could feel a stronger magical presence. Before you knew it, Taehyung’s arms dropped and the athame pierced through Ara’s heart without a single scream, only a small whimper that rang through your ears. The flames from the candles around the circle ignited in a stronger haze as a rush of smoke rose from Ara’s lifeless body and dispersed into the mouths of your coven. The spell worked.

Within seconds, the wind ceased and the candles returned back to their normal state. Everyone collapsed to the ground, which made you panic. Who would perform the revival spell to bring Ara back? Would Ara just rise soon on her own? As fear coursed through your veins, you ran over to make sure everyone was still breathing. They seemed to be unconscious but certainly still alive. When you turned to Taehyung, you shook him lightly, calling his name but he wouldn’t stir. You didn’t know the spell that needed to be performed to bring Ara back but even if you did, could you perform such a dark spell to bring someone back from the dead? Maybe you could take her to the hospital.

Your heart raced as you stood next to the altar to observe her body. The athame was still in her chest; a perfect stab into the heart. Blood stained her white dress, a dress to symbolize her purity. The youngest witch of your coven lies before you with nothing behind her open, lifeless eyes. Your hands shook as you attempted to lift her but you didn’t have the strength to lift her stiff body. Suddenly, you heard a voice.

“Y/N?” You froze at the sound and slowly looked up to find Ara standing on the other side of the altar. Your eyes widened at the sight of her. She looked at you and smiled.

“Did it work?” You looked at her in disbelief and shock. Your lips parted but you couldn’t speak, not knowing what to say or what to do. Ara’s eyes fell to the altar, realizing that her body still remained there. Reality settled in as she discovered that she was merely a spirit form of herself.

“A-Ara...I...I don’t know. I-I don’t know how to bring you back.” Tears streamed from your eyes as you could see worry flood over your sister. It looked as if she was going to cry but she smiled and shook it away.

“It’s okay. They will wake up soon and they will bring me back.” Always such the optimist, always believing in the coven; all the while, you could not. You looked at your brothers and sisters on the ground with no sign that they would wake soon. Your heart sank into your stomach. Ara followed your gaze and her smile slowly disappeared.

“Y/N...I don’t feel well,” she said with a shaky voice. When you looked back up, her form was becoming more and more transparent.

“No, no, no, no. Ara, stay with me,” you said as you rushed to the other side of the altar, “Wake up! Wake up please!” Your voice roared into the night but no one stirred. Ara stood before you with tears streaming down her face.

“Y/N,” she said with pure sadness in her voice. You reached out for her but you couldn’t touch her. Your lips trembled as you watched her fade away.

“I’ll find a way. I’ll bring you back somehow,” you promised desperately. But it was too late. Ara disappeared and the candles around you extinguished. Silence surrounded you and you felt more alone than ever. Your friend was gone and your coven remained unconscious. You knew this would happen and no one listened, not even the man you loved. Is this what they’ve become? Murderers for power? This isn’t what you signed up for. Without giving it a second thought, you found yourself running and never looking back.

It’s been a year since you ran away from your coven. Taehyung tried to see you but you would never open the door or respond to his calls or texts. In fact, you had heard recently that he was now dating Su-mi. That was all she ever wanted - more power and your boyfriend. Now she has both. Mazel tov. There was never any report about Ara’s death or disappearance. No one in town questioned it. It was as if she never existed but you could never forget her. Her death haunted you ever since. In fact, you haven’t used any of your magic since that day; at least nothing spectacular. Just small spells here and there. Anything more didn’t seem right.

Sometimes you still see Ara in your dreams. Whenever you passed by your friends on the street, they would give you dirty looks or simply pretend like you don’t exist. A few times, you’ve tripped over nothing and fell to the ground; knowing that it was their doing. You considered trying to speak to them and explain what happened and why you left but it seemed useless. They would believe anything Su-mi said and you were not her favorite. You were nothing more than a threat that is now gone. Your magical abilities surpassed hers and she couldn’t stand it. She especially couldn’t stand the fact that you did nothing with your powers except help others. She said you could do so much more, become all powerful, but you didn’t care. Now that you’ve chosen a life on your own, you’ve tried to live a normal life. At least until the anniversary of Ara’s death.

It was early May and the days were becoming warmer. Although the days were brighter, they seemed darker as your lost friend’s anniversary was approaching in a week. Living in a small town, it was always enjoyable to take little walks downtown as you always came across a friendly face. Friendly faces always put a smile on yours when you were feeling blue. Today seemed to be the exception. Today, there were fewer friendly faces and more appearances of your past coven. What are the odds?

“Screw this,” you mumbled to yourself as you saw your ex, Taehyung, and Su-mi walking hand-in-hand down the street. It seemed like a glamour spell of sorts. A spell that made you see things because it wasn’t just once that you saw them but it seemed to be about ten times within the same block. You stood in the middle of the sidewalk and closed your eyes for a moment, rubbing your temples to try to shake off the illusion. When you decided to keep walking, you bumped into someone.

“I’d say I’m sorry but your eyes were closed. Seems like it’s your fault, hm?” The voice didn’t sound familiar but it was deep and smooth. You opened your eyes and found a dark haired man before you. He wasn’t much taller than you but he had soft features, despite his eyebrow raised as he looked at you. You didn’t recognize him but you admired his grunge-style clothes.

“S-Sorry. I had a sudden migraine. I didn’t mean to,” you said as sincerely as possible. Witches were a best kept secret in this town, so you couldn’t explain what was really going on. Although you did feel a large amount of energy from him. The man chuckled lightly and presented you with a small smile.

“I’m just teasing. I can tell when someone’s having a bad day. I may have intentionally stepped into your path, so I’m actually at fault. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Now you were the one raising your eyebrow at him. A bit forward for a strange meet and greet.

“That’s...kind of you, I guess. I’m fine. I just need to get out of here. Clear my head. It was nice to meet you,” you said the words as you stepped around him. He turned around and laughed lightly.

“Did you really meet me though? You didn’t get my name and I didn’t get yours. So, it would be more appropriate to say ‘It was nice bumping into you’.” You stopped and turned around with a look of disbelief on your face. Who the hell is this guy and who does he think he is? It’s hard to tell if he’s being nice or trying to cause trouble. Perhaps it would be best to try to get rid of him a different way. Harmless magic wouldn’t be too terrible. You scoffed with a smirk, folding your arms as you faced him.

“You’re right. My mistake. It was nice bumping into you,” as you spoke, the man’s shoes were becoming untied and re-tied together with the force of your telekinesis abilities without him noticing, “I’m not sure if you’re just visiting, passing through, or a new resident but enjoy your day. Have a wonderful walk.” You smiled sweetly and waited for him to take his step in hopes that he would trip on his shoes. The man looked at you and remaining in place. He put his hands in his front pockets and smirked.

“That’s impressive. Subtle movements and you didn’t even have to look at what you were doing,” the man said without a single stutter. Your heart felt like it dropped into your stomach but you tried not to show emotions. Instead, you tried smiling.

“What are you talking about,” you asked nervously but trying to mask your nerves with steadiness. The man mirrored your crossed arms.

“Do you usually practice magic so freely out in public? Someone could catch you, you know? That’s kind of careless, don’t you think?” And in that moment, your heart stopped and started beating faster. The only witches you knew of in your town were those in your coven. Other than that, there are rumored to be witch hunters around. So, does that make him a witch hunter? Panic coursed through your veins.

“Very funny. I have to go. Sorry again for running into you,” you said in a rush, unsure of what to do in this situation. You turned on your heels to continue walking away.

“Wait,” the man called out to you but it only made you walk faster. You wanted to make sure you lost him, so you turned down an alley to take a shortcut back to your apartment. Your stride was cut short when you turned back to see if you were being followed then suddenly bumped into someone. Again. When you turned, the man from before was standing in front of you. This made you jump back.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said with a slight laugh. The laugh made you only worry more and also become a little annoyed. This game wasn’t funny.

“How did you do that? Your shoes were tied together,” you asked to get right to the point. He raised his eyebrow and tilted his head a little to look at you.

“How did my shoes get tied together when they were perfectly tied before I bumped into you,” he asked with a cocky tone with a smirk that made your heart flutter a little. You couldn’t help but to smile.

“Touche,” was all you could say.

“I’m Min Yoongi and I did that the same way you did. Simple telekinesis can go a long way. I was untying them as you tried running off. As for my sudden appearance? That’s called Apporation. Different from Astral Projection because my whole living form can project to other places. Simpler term is Teleportation.” You looked at Yoongi like he had two heads. You’ve only seen people Astral Project, so this was completely new to you. Astral Projection is basically teleporting somewhere but only mentally while your physical body remains in its original place. A projection of yourself, if you will. He suddenly made you feel very insignificant but it wasn’t his fault; just your own insecurities.

“I’m Y/N. Telekinesis is really all I have, so. Not as cool as…” You stalled for a moment as you tried remembering the word.

“Apportation,” he said to help you with an amused smile on his face.

“Yeah, that.” The two of you laughed. You didn’t feel as nervous around him anymore. He seemed like a decent person nor did you sense anything off about him. Even though the weather was warm, you felt goosebumps on your arms, causing you to rub them slightly as you looked away.

“Do you want to go somewhere? You said you wanted to get away and I have the perfect place for that,” he saw the hesitation in your eyes, “I’m not a serial killer. I promise.” His comment made you snort.

“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say but sure. Why the hell not?”

It’s been so long since you’ve been out in the woods. Yes. The woods. Why did you agree to venture out to the woods with Min Yoongi? Because there was something about him that made you trust him with your life. Not only that, but this was the first person that has given you the time of day to this extent since the incident last year. Perhaps it was a coincidence or fate; either way, it’s worth a try, right?

Going to the woods ignites something in you. Perhaps it’s a sense of home or perhaps it’s a chilling feeling of suppressed emotions from a dark past. Leaving your own coven and staying away from a part of you that means so much to you - it’s been too hard; at least alone anyways. Thinking back, you don’t have regrets of leaving them but you do miss that sense of belonging.

The forest was just as beautiful as you remembered. There was a subtle eeriness that was somehow overwhelmed by a calm nature that made it more comfortable to be there rather than fearful. Now that spring has passed and summer has blossomed, the trees and ground that surround you are covered with greenery beyond belief. The tall trees provide shade from the blistering sun. Twigs graze your black jeans but it doesn’t bother you - not one bit.

As Yoongi walks ahead of you, you can’t help but to watch his stride. He didn’t necessarily seem like a loner; more of a wanderer. His porcelain skin in contrast with his dark hair and attire was alluring. He seemed gentle and calm, not threatening or menacing. With your past experience as a witch, you knew better than to follow a stranger into the woods but you felt as if you could trust him. The tall trees around you start to become more and more bare. Just tall stalks of lumber that are so symmetrical in every way that then leads to a clearing. Before you is a clearing of trees that create a large circle with nothing in the center; just dead grass and leaves and rocks. Yoongi slows to a stop. Now you can’t help but to become highly alert. You scoff with slight nervousness and laughter.

“Okay. This is officially the part when you kill me on some ancient burial ground,” you say loud enough for him to hear. He turns around and looks at you. His expression is calm but a part of him looks sad. In his eyes, you see something lingering within them. Your smile slowly faded as you could see that he didn’t think this was a joke. You felt a strong energy from this place - very strong. Something about this place seems all too familiar and not in a pleasant way. You take a look around all the trees and try to channel the energy you feel radiating around you. Suddenly, you feel completely drained; as if you’re going to be sick. Your eyes widen as you feel a cold chill brush over you. How strange to feel such a chill in the dead of summer. Yoongi remains the same, as if waiting patiently.

“W-where...did you bring me? Yoongi, what is this?” Yoongi remains. Panic starts to set in as you’re taking in the situation. Unsure of whether or not you need to take flight or fight. Either way, you find yourself bracing yourself for either.

“This isn’t funny. Tell me what this is right now or I’m out of here.” Your voice is stern but no matter how hard you tried to mask the fear in your voice, it was evident. Yoongi let out a somber sigh as sadness truly washed over him.

“I lost my sister a year ago. People have been telling me that she ran off and moved somewhere to discover herself or to live her own life but I know better. I knew her better than anyone. She would have never abandoned me. Not like this,” as Yoongi spoke, you felt your heart beat harshly inside of your chest.

“I went to look for her. Day and night. I couldn’t rest until I got answers. People in town wouldn’t give me a straight answer. It was always the same as everyone else as if it was rehearsed. I searched everywhere but something told me to try the woods. I didn’t find anything. Even when she was missing after 48 hours, the cops wouldn’t come out here with me to look for her. Then I noticed that here, in this clearing, I could feel something. To other people, this clearing was just filled with trees. No one could see that it was a symmetrical opening. Here in this spot, I felt my sister’s presence. She was here. She lingers here. Trapped. Now why is that Y/N? Why do I feel my sister here? Why is it that we can see the clearing and no one else?”

Yoongi’s words froze you. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. There was nothing but screaming in your head. Unwanted flashbacks from a year ago. It couldn’t be…

“A...c-cloaking spell. Only witches and warlocks can see it. It’s...sacred ground.” Every word that came out of your mouth was so difficult to voice. Now is the time to tread lightly. There’s no knowing what is about to happen or what Yoongi is trying to say. At least...you’re hoping that he’s not about to say what you’re thinking.

“Right. A sacred ground. Witches would use places like this for so many reasons. Rituals, cleanses...sacrifices. There’s a plethora of reasons. Right, Y/N?” His tone changed. The air changed. So cold. Shivering to your core. Sweat beading down your temple.

“Y-yeah… Various reasons,” you take a few deep breaths before speaking, “but why bring me here, Yoongi? Why show me this?” You weren’t sure what to prepare yourself for next but you started channeling energy in case you needed to defend yourself. It wasn’t your fault, no, but does he know that? Does he know what happened to Ara? Is she really his sister?

Yoongi let out a sigh and scratched the back of his head. A look of defeat on his face as he looks down and nervously drags his foot across the dry dirt on the ground.

“I don’t know… I-” He lets out a loud cry that makes you jump a little. He runs his hands down his face and lets out a huff.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I just thought maybe… Bringing you here… You’re the first witch that has actually been nice to me. No one would come out here with me. Everyone has their own coven and they’re so damn possessive of each other. I’m not trying to make my own coven! I just want answers! I thought maybe...nevermind. This was a waste of time. Why would you know anything? You’re a lone witch and...the nicest person I’ve met in this shit town,” he lets out a sigh and takes a step closer to you but you take one back in hesitation. He stops walking when he realizes you’re stepping away from him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to scare you. If you want to leave, I get it.” Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair. Frustration is so evident on his face. You can’t help but to feel empathetic towards him. In that moment, you let down your guard and take a step forward.

“It’s okay, Yoongi... Do you...want to talk about it?” There’s genuine kindness in your eyes and Yoongi can easily see it. He sighs in relief; as if he’s been dying for someone to ask him this question. He sits down in the grass and crosses his legs to get comfortable. Your instincts tell you to follow suit as you approach him to sit in front of him. Your empathy can feel the dread illuminating around him.

“She was my twin sister. We were inseparable...are,” he scoffs, “I find myself talking about her as if she no longer exists but… I’m still hopeful, you know? She just vanished. I know damn well that the coven she was a part of knows where she is but they always deny it. I told her that she shouldn’t hang out with them but she never listened to me. At least after joining them…”

Guilt flooded your core. There was this bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that he was definitely talking about Ara. She had mentioned having a brother once but she spoke very little of him. It was as if she was trying to protect him. Su-mi was the only one that would bring him up from time to time; trying to get him to join us. She always said that the power of twin siblings was a force to be reckoned with. Your coven would be stronger, she would say.

“They wanted me to join too. Several times. But I don’t know. I’ve always been a bit of a loner, I guess. I only use my magic to help the Earth, you know. A Green Witch. Using my magic for good. As witches and warlocks, we shouldn’t use our magic for anything else besides protection. We’re protectors of the Earth. Not...manipulative, selfish, mischievous little...” Yoongi stopped as he realized he was rambling. His pale cheeks turned bright red. The sight made you smile softly.

“S-sorry… I didn’t mean anything-”

“You shouldn’t apologize for having an opinion, you know,” you interrupt with a warm smile, “You’re one of the few that remember what our true nature is as witches. That’s why I haven’t tried seeking out a coven to join. Most of them are...well, corrupted. Dark. Wanting to cause harm to others or use their magic for personal gain. It’s sad.”

Yoongi listened with the utmost interest in your words. There seemed to be a little twinkle in his eyes. The more time you spent with him, the softer he seemed to become. Something about his presence made you feel warm - given the current circumstance.

“Yeah, exactly. Glad I’m not the only one that feels that way around here. So, I’m curious. Have you ever been a part of a coven? Or have you always been solo?” His question made your cheeks flush.

“In the past, yes. But it wasn’t for me. Dark and corrupted, just like the others. Even left my boyfriend behind because of it. He seemed like one of the good ones but...I guess I was wrong.” Your head shifted downward as you fiddled with your fingers while playing with a leaf that you found on the ground. Yoongi could hear the sadness in your voice.

“That must have been tough. But...for what it’s worth, it seems like it was for the better. Maybe it was fate.” His words made you lift your gaze to his. He was being so kind. This stranger didn’t know you but it seemed as if he did in a way. The thought started buzzing in your head - if someone I cared about was missing and someone knew where they were, I would deserve to know. The urge to cry suddenly flooded over you. You couldn’t find the right words; as if your mouth was filled with cement.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Yoongi shifted as he could see your distress. To avoid crying, you shook your head and sniffled a little.

Suddenly, thunder cracked in the sky. When you looked up, you noticed that dark clouds were moving in very quickly. Strange how there wasn’t any rain forecasted for today. Simultaneously, the both of you stood up from the ground just as the rain came rushing in. To avoid the downpour, you ran to the nearest tree that had enough branches and leaves for coverage but it was too late. You were both soaking wet but couldn’t help laughing it off. Damp hair and clothes clung to your skin but the summer heat made the coolness from the rain more tolerable.

Leaning against the tree, your laughter faded as you looked up at the sky. The clouds were already starting to separate to let the sunshine back through but the rain continued to fall. Yoongi wiped the hair dangling over his eyes, revealing his dark eyebrows and brown eyes. He had such innocent features and yet so mature at the same time. A soft smile appeared on Yoongi’s pouty lips.

“We should hang out again. Only...not under such cryptic circumstances,” he said with a laugh that was infectious. You nodded lightly with a kind smile.

“I’d like that,” you said timidly, realizing just how close you were standing next to each other, “It’s nice to meet someone who actually seems like a decent human being for a change.” Yoongi scoffed.

“I don’t know about decent. Tolerable, maybe.” Yet again, he made you laugh as he did the same. The rain slowed to a stop as the birds began to sing once more. This seemed like a good opportunity to head home. One too many overwhelming things have happened today and you weren’t about to stick around for another phenomena. You wiped your arms of the excessive rain water and fixed your hair.

“Let’s grab coffee or something tomorrow. Meet at the town square say...at noon,” you asked in a kind tone. Yoongi nodded with a light tint to his cheeks; flushed it seems.

“Noon it is.” His response and tone was so smooth and deep. Chills ran up and down your spine. You didn’t intend for it to sound like a date but perhaps it came across that way. Heat filled your cheeks.

“See you tomorrow, Yoongi,” you said with a cute little wave before venturing off into the woods. Your encounter with Yoongi started off strange but somehow, it seems as if your bond will grow stronger. A new friend perhaps. No phone numbers were exchanged but you had a feeling that he would definitely be there. Call it a hunch.

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homenum-revelio-hq · 4 years

Photo

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Midge!

You have been accepted for the role of ANDROMEDA TONKS with the faceclaim change of Gemma Arterton! We really enjoyed how the old prejudices come out with your Andromeda, all while trying to combat them. We think it’ll be really interesting to see how she fits within her role in the Order, especially since she’ll be connected to old family. So excited to have you as part of the roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Midge ( she / her )

AGE: 28

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: It’s pretty solid - I am generally around to plot on mobile throughout the day and while my job can be very demanding at certain times of the year, I still am able to post a few times a week.

ANYTHING ELSE: ( Triggers ) Rape, incest. [edited for clarity]

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Andromeda Cassiopeia Tonks ( nee Black )

AGE: Twenty-nine

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: CIS Female ( she / her ). Heterosexual. While Bi-Curious, Andromeda has never explored her sexuality fully.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

ANY CHANGES: I would love to use Gemma Arterton, if possible!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY: Scorpio ( Sun ). Scorpio ( Moon ). Taurus ( Rising ).

A sun in Scorpio and ascendant in Taurus, Andromeda does often find difficulty understanding how she is perceived by others. In a position where rubbing people the wrong way was never much of a worry of hers, she often presents herself as materialistic and overly self-involved. While materialism is something she is mindful of ( finding comfort through her means being something she does strive towards ), this is not her driving force.

Her Sun being in Scorpio means she has a fundamental urge to get to the bottom of things, which can at times lead her to be manipulative or power-hungry, but it is from a place of intense passion for authenticity, real intimacy, and the truth. Andromeda is driven to set herself apart from others, often through her close relationships and long-term partnerships. Her desire for marriage was not only born out of a moment of heated vitriol to her family, but also in the pursuit of sustaining the connection she felt with Ted in the most lasting manner she could think.

Her Moon represents her emotional self: intense, passionate, and a bit dramatic. With an eye for a bit of a show, she still is inclined to keep her more intense and darker emotions private and has a hard time truly letting people in. Trust is hard-fought with her, and while she is very perceptive this sometimes manifests in suspicion and even controlling tendencies. The through-line of Andromeda’s personality is that she craves intimacy, and while it takes effort to get to the core of her it is upon being truly known she finds herself most fulfilled.

Dromeda is extremely practical, she is reliable and deliberate, giving off the impression of someone who is sensible ( though sometimes, extremely, stubborn ). Through her insightful intuition, Andromeda excels not only in her career but her obsessive tendencies make for someone who can build out a life for herself. She avoids “ beating around the bush ” where she can, and as a result can come off as harsh or intrusive. Being as intuitive to others as she is, she also heavily relies on communicating through body language or if the relationship allows, physical affection.

Ultimately, Andromeda can be very internal even when present with her own deeply intuitive and feeling self. Run through with a stubborn nature and desire to use her mental capacities to achieve her own personally set goals, she is ultimately a loving and devoted person to those she allows past the moments of discernment. As a result she’s always very aware of any who come into those people’s lives, utilizing her scrupulous nature to ensure that what she holds dear remains safely guarded.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: ( TW: Mention of child death )

It is their cousin who tells them his sister died.

Not much older than Cissa, Iris died before she could even get a place on the family tree. Aunt Lavinia sits by a window and while her eyes are transfixed on the glass, Andromeda somehow knows she is not looking at anything that is outside. The house is quiet, save for Evan occasionally tugging at the cat’s tail just to hear it hiss. Normally Dromeda would tell him to stop, normally she would start pulling his hair so he could understand how it felt. But normally he did not have a dead sister so she sits with her hands politely folded in her lap.

In any case, she has a question to ask.

" Why? "

" How? "

The second question comes rushing from Bella.

They do not receive any answer right away, a pinch from Mother and a look from Father bars any more words from leaving their lips the rest of the visit. They get their answer at home before bed, Mother and Father sits them down in front of a window. Aunt Lavinia’s eyes must still be looking at but not out the window in her own home, Dromeda thinks while her too-wide and observant eyes strain to study Mother’s face.

As usual, it comes back to those creatures called Muggles. The same who burn witches and wizards alive, the same who beat Andromeda’s relatives and stoned them to death. Those evil beings who destroy everything and made Wizard-kind ashamed of their powers. Mother tells Bellatrix and herself of a new heinous act. They sneak into nurseries of the most innocent babies with their special, magical blood and pierce their soft, sweet skin with their teeth. They drink and drink until the baby stops breathing. They take all that is special from the child to pass on to their own offspring, to make those mudbloods look and speak as they do. They do it to infiltrate, to feed on more, to destroy every bit of goodness in the world.

( Aunt Lavinia’s baby is dead because of muggles - she was killed by a greedy, horrid monster. )

Mother tells her to stop clutching at her as she walks her back to her bedroom. She does her best, straightens her back and balls a small fist at her side - she stops holding Mother’s hand and instead tries to hold her own. It does nothing to stop her heart from racing. Once in bed, she counts the footsteps of Mother’s graceful stride until she knows she is alone. Until she knows she can move from her bed without being punished. Andromeda's less-than-graceful feet fumble from sheets and scramble to the ground. Frantic steps carry her toward the nursery. The door is cracked, and that is concerning.

It takes all of her courage to push through.

She expects to find a horned creature with long fangs hovering over her sister’s crib - instead she finds Bella laying on the floor beside it. With only a look exchanged in recognition, Andie joins her and is comforted in the thought Bella does not mind when she holds her hand. No matter how hard she squeezes.

Without any words the two sisters resolve themselves to be the protectors of the youngest from those who would wish to prey on her.

This memory begins to dull at age eleven. She watches a boy from across the Great Hall with mild curiosity, and his whole body moves as he laughs.

“Filthy mudblood,” is sneered from somewhere down the table. Instinctively, Andromeda reaches for Bellatrix’s hand.

( How odd, she thinks as she spots him later, he doesn’t seem to have fangs at all. )

She’s thirteen by the time they are formally introduced, her upbringing does not allow for her to be anything less than polite. At least, this is what she tells herself as she engages in conversation. He tells him his name is Ted and Andromeda spends the night thinking of how it felt when they clasped hands.

They talk, confined by isolated areas and the moonlight. Out of shame at first, perhaps. But there are some things Andromeda comes to find she only wants the moon sharing with her, with him.

Later ( in secret, away from her sisters’ prying eyes ), she’ll trace the veins in his wrist and she thinks she can feel the blood beneath begin to warm. How could it be thick, how could it be muddy - she thinks. His blood, and a burgeoning feeling becoming increasingly harder to ignore is as pure as anything she’s ever touched. Soft and warm when she’s nestled beside his beating heart, soft and warm even when she’s not.

( He’s not dirty, she thinks. Her family might be the one that is wrong. )

She’s lost to them long before they realize, long before she herself has accepted the truth. Ted holds one half of her, she believes, reserving some part that has listened to the lessons taught by her parents. Bellatrix’s infatuation of her own dalliance grows, a man who is allowed to eat at their table and handled their most prized heirlooms. He is the one who is unworthy, he is the one who poses the greater threat to everything important. ( There are bigger problems, she reasons, than a simple affair. )

Pregnancy brings on horrid morning sickness, and a slap that rings in her ear to this day, if she listens closely enough. “ Dead to us, ” they say. But offer a gift in the wake. As she spills out into the night air she finds herself gasping, as though she had resurfaced, as though she has just been saved from a watery grave.

( She stops by Cissa’s room, hoping to salvage at least one piece ).

Years of playing protector, vanquisher of the monsters under the bed, come full circle on her own. Nymphadora is born without the usual pomp and circumstance she has known in such occasions, but love pours from her quickly enraptured by strong lungs unabashedly wailing into the night air. Born able to achieve whatever she would like. That’s what she tells her, whispered promises like the exchange of vows shared with Ted before.

( She tries to ignore the Daily Prophet’s proclamations of anything else ).

A life is built, with difficulty and with trial and error ( how was she to know washing machines were to work like that? ) She is happy, she thinks, after years of being told such pursuits are foolish or secondary. She can protect them, she can keep them just isolated enough to not call any attention their way. There’s an effort to bring them closer to the fold but Andromeda balks at such a concept. ( Albus Dumbledore can not be trusted, she implores. Men with such power rarely care for their pawns at play ).

And still the part of her remains. The way certain light catches and she can feel those around her stiffen ( She looks so much like her, doesn’t she? ) The part of her which sharpened fangs in duels with Bellatrix left idly twiddling her fingers. It’s relentless, the tide. All the reasons why her job suits her. All the best, she thinks, to keep some things separate.

( She was told, once, about the myth behind her name. The Chained Woman. Andromeda was never asked her opinion, or so it’s said. Perhaps she only knew better to keep it to herself. )

OCCUPATION:

Unspeakable in the Ministry of Magic. A niche for ancient artifacts and interest in history allows for her attention to be drawn to the mysteries that keep magic interesting. Andromeda enjoys her job, finding it satisfying an itch she oftentimes could feel ashamed of ( if she spent much time thinking about what compels her, that is ). It is with the understanding of the level of access such a position has given her that she found herself acting as informant to the Order in the first place, and not necessarily because she felt any good will towards the movement of radicals. Andromeda isn’t compelled to trust the Ministry, exactly, nor is she inclined to leave her trust with men recruiting children to war. Her loyalty has always been a closed circle, stuck to a desire to move forward and a need to provide for her family.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Andromeda is more inclined to believe that the Ministry and actual authority would have the means to bring about the end of the war, but with the shift of tide she understands that such measures are a necessary evil. For however far removed she has been from the Black Family Tapestry for the time she’s been married, Andromeda still remembers what it was like to host Voldemort for dinner parties as Bellatrix’s obsession for him grew. She is of a unique group who understood what was happening long before the Daily Prophet began their war correspondence.

That being said, Andromeda also knows of the ambition of man in general. Whispers of a vigilante group were met with indifference at first, she was ( perhaps misguidedly ) indignant at the idea of a select few taking matters into their own hands, let alone the rumors that some were being recruited right out of school? Her opinion on the group as a whole has only slightly softened since a few loved ones got involved, most notably Sirius and now Ted. Accepting the reality of the threat they are faced with comes with the ( somewhat begrudging ) acceptance compromises must be made.

SURVIVAL:

To put it bluntly, survival is everything to Andromeda. Above all else she is a true Slytherin and will do whatever it takes to survive, the caveat being that this extends to her family. Andromeda, though certainly affected by her upbringing in prejudice and violent bigotry, has not been indoctrinated in the same way. However, a certain edge to her allows for more than a few people to draw the direct line of understanding she is cut of the same cloth as Bellatrix Lestrange. While Bella found herself perverted past recognition to her devotion to the cause and her “master”, Andromeda made conscientious decisions to be as self-possessed as possible. This includes a willingness to play coy with the war effort that stands to protect her way of life.

Because, and this is very important, Andromeda thinks herself above it. She does not always draw a direct correlation to the suffering of others to what could become of her, because in Andromeda’s mind she will simply not allow it to happen. She knows she will be ruthless when it comes down to it, and tries to maintain a certain amount of plausible deniability when it comes to moments in which she is directly associated with the war.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Ted is, above everything else, the love of her life. She would have moved them to another country if she had her way but they settled on a cottage by the coast. They have fundamental disagreements and while there are times when he is met with exasperation on her end Andromeda has always liked the challenge he presented to her. A certain recklessness to give himself over to a cause rather than be content with the life they have stolen away offers a host of issues she would rather avoid; and it is in part due to this reasoning she doesn’t always share her own passing along of details. Ultimately, however, everything Dromeda does is for Ted, for their family.

Andromeda carries with her an adolescence of her family’s social engineering, which means she has connections in various places ( some she isn’t the quickest to acknowledge ). I think she finds herself drawn to the other members of her family who have been disowned, or even the women around her year who she recognized herself in. Which is to say nothing of the particular status she has achieved as an Unspeakable. Indifferent to status ( possibly as a result of it always being given to her ), Drom certainly knows how to use it.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: I am a huge sucker for Tedromeda, to be perfectly honest. But at the end of the day I will write with wherever there is chemistry and am always looking for fun avenues to explore!

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?:

There is a lifetime of prejudice which Andromeda needs to consistently unpack and confront ( and, as is the way of someone who grew up as incredibly privileged as she did, she is not always willing to do the work ). In many ways, hers is the story of triumph of love over the built-in bigotry that poisoned her home. In practice, it is much trickier. For as much as Andromeda knows what her family is now, there are still fond memories she holds dear. For all the horrors she knows that have been perpetrated in the name of purity, she often finds herself subject to the conditioning she was raised on.

Andromeda was taught, young and often, through the various state-sanctioned ( and family approved ) propaganda pieces to fear and resent anything that would be seen to be an outside, infiltrating force. She does attempt to give her daughter a more objective education of the world around them, though this is made increasingly difficult with the way the war seems to be going. Fear does things to people, she knows more than most, but there is a lack of malice in her heart.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?:

Honestly, I’ve been keeping my eye on this roleplay for some time and the stars just aligned in terms of my schedule opening up and a role that I wanted to play around with! Andromeda is fascinating to me because of all her contradictions, as well as a major resistance to actively take part in a war which she could potentially play a role in. I think the natural tension between her and former family members could also lead to a very interesting dynamic as we move forward!

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

I am open to going with the flow and love organically plotting, but I think Andromeda’s position at the Ministry / her being an informant to the Order could really challenge her laissez faire attitude when it comes to the war in general. Along with the building tension she has in her own home, and her desire to keep her family safe above anything else, it would be interesting to explore the boiling point of where that all comes to a head. Passivity has no place when she has a husband actively partaking in the war effort, and when the outcome could potentially call into question his safety she might have to fully establish herself as a combatant against what she was raised in.

ANYTHING ELSE? I don’t think so!

#homenumaccepted #harry potter rpg #hp rpg #marauders rp #marauders rpg

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cinaja · 4 years

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Before the Wall part 11

An acotar fanfic on the time of the War. For summary and the entire fic, click here

Disclaimer: The world and the characters of acotar belong to sarah j maas

----

Miryam tugs at the sleeve of her dress, frowning. I's not quite long enough. At least it covers the brand on her left forearm, but the scars on her wrists are painfully visible.

The opening of her tent flaps and Miryam looks up, expecting to see Jurian. Instead, Helion enters.

"Oh, don't look so disappointed", the male drawls, "I might get the feeling you don't like me."

"You'll find that few people take kindly to being called a witch."

Helion has been hounding her these past days, ever since the incident with the wards. Trying to get answers out of her. So far, Miryam has managed to avoid him.

Helion just huffs a laugh and points towards Kiel. The falcon's wing is almost healed, it puffs his feathers and clicks its beak at Helion. "It's not like you're trying hard to hide it."

Miryam glares at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She tries to shove past him, but, quick as lightning, Helion grabs her arm. "I'm not your enemy", he says softly. Miryam can see his magic moving through the air. Her sleeves begin to grow, covering her wrist. "I don't know why you think I am."

Before Miryam can reply, Helion lets go of her arm and takes a step back. A second later, Jurian and Mor enter the tent. Jurian frowns at Helion, Mor winks at her.

Both of them are dressed in their finery for the meeting, Jurian in light leather armour and Mor in a red silk dress that is far more revealing than anything Miryam could ever wear without breaking down.

"Everyone ready?", Helion asks, "Then let's go."

Hesitantly, Miryam takes his arm. This time, she pays close attention to the way the strings move around him, trying to figure out what they mean. But he winnows far too quickly for her to make sense of the glowing lines. They land in the garden once again. Miryam steps away from Helion and closer to Jurian.

"Everything fine?", he whispers into her ear.

Miryam nods and gratefully takes the arm he offers her. She tries to pretend she doesn't notice the encouraging look Mor shoots her.

Then, Andromache rushes down the palace steps towards them. She pauses for a moment to smile at Mor. "How's training going?"

"Oh, fine", Mor replies. Miryam wonders if she imagines the colour staining her cheeks.

Andromache smiles. "Maybe one day, we can train together." Then, she turns to Miryam. "Come on, the meeting starts in an hour and there's so much to discuss."

The queen falls into step next to her. "I missed you during the meetings, it's so much harder without you here. You're the only one who can really deal with the Fae."

Miryam wrinkles her nose. When did she become the expert for Fae? Oh, right. When she thought it was a smart move to announce that she was the one who knew them best.

"What's going on?", she asks.

"Is Nakia still being a pain?", Jurian cuts in

"She isn't a bad person, you know? Just hard." Andromache sighs. "And yes, a real pain sometimes. Most times. Anyways, most days, this council argues three quarters of the time. We can't seem to agree on anything."

Miryam stifles a groan. "Any good news?"

"You're the only one both us and the Fae seem to respect, so that's good." Andromache grins. "And we now control the Callian Pass."

"What?", Jurian asks, "You're serious?"

"What's the Callian Pass?", Miryam asks.

Jurian says, "It's one of the only ways through the mountains. An incredibly important strategic location. Who got it?"

"Erithia", Andromache says and Miryam freezes, "It's funny, really. We kept sending out messages to them and they kept refusing. And then, they take the Callian Pass from Rask and send a message the same night, telling us they'd like to join." She shakes her head. "Did you know that their Prince was engaged to-"

"So Prince Drakon will be at the meeting today?", Miryam asks, before Andromache can say that cursed name.

She wonders if the Prince will recognise her. Probably not. Chances are he already forgot about the slave girl she helped escape. Maybe it would be for the best. But somehow, Miryam knows she'll still try to thank him, no matter what.

"No", Andromache says, "He sent an emissary. I heard politics isn't his strong suit."

"Oh, that certainly is true", a new voice says from behind and the Grand Duke of Sangravah steps next to Miryam. He bows to the waist. "Lady Miryam. A pleasure to meet you again."

"The pleasure is mine", Miryam replies and returns the gesture, "How do you know the Prince?"

"Knowing is too big a word", the Grand Duke replies, "We met a few times, but I mostly just heard of him and read his texts. I'm quite fond of some of his ideas."

Miryam wants to ask another question, but the Grand Duke already turns to Mor. "So you're the one from the Night Court?", he asks.

"Yes, Your Grace." Mor inclines her head (not deep enough by far).

"Prythian, hm?", he says, "I always felt you guys take yourself quite seriously for such a little spot on the map."

Helion and Mor exchange a look.

"Let's go to the meeting room", Miryam says before one of them can start an argument and walks ahead.c

The meeting room is different from the one Miryam remembers. Mostly, the table is bigger and there are more people sitting around.

"You ruined my fun", Jurian whispers into her ear, "I would have loved to see that fight."

"Sorry. But I would have hated to pick up the pieces afterwards."

Jurian rolls his eyes and kicks a Fae soldier out of his usual chair. The male lets out a growl and Miryam offers him an apologizing smile, making him calm down a little.

She leans on the back of Jurian's chair. "Can you manage the hour until the meeting starts without getting into a fight?", she teases.

"Sure." Jurian smiles up at her. "Since I have no interest of meddling with the Fae, I'm staying right where I am."

Miryam doesn't have the same luxury. But fortunately, she likes several of the Fae in this room. During her time as an emissary, she met most of these royals and some of them were alright (cutthroat, with words like knives, but not bad people)

Still, it's weird to have these conversations. One moment, Miryam's perfectly at ease, sometimes she even enjoys herself - the next second, it takes all of her self control to keep smiling and not break down.

She manages to get a grip of Mor for a moment and make sure she's doing fine. It's the female's first time in foreign politics, but the High Lord excused himself, so Mor had to step in. As far as Miryam can tell, she is doing well (messing up the rules of Continental politics so badly that Miryam has to suppress a wince whenever she says something, but since she's from Prythian, no one minds). Either way, Miryam has only exchanged a few words with her when another Fae royal wants to talk to her.

Eventually, she ends up in her seat next to Jurian and the meeting begins.

The first one to speak is a white-winged Fae male who serves as emissary to their newest member. He gives a brief summary about what happened in the Callian Pass and officially informs them that Erithia would like to join the Alliance.

"And your Prince couldn't be bothered to come himself?", one of the present royals asks.

Another one laughs. "He was probably scared to mess up again after that incident with Queen Ravenia."

A few people chuckle. Miryam honestly wonders why Prince Drakon sent an emissary. He may be bad at Continental politics, but surely he must see that staying away only makes things worse.

The Seraphim emissary bristles. "Prince Drakon is understandably busy with his army. He sends his regards."

A Fae female smirks. "Or he thinks he won't be able to resist all these pretty mortals on the council. After all, I heard a rumour that he broke his engagement with Ravenia over one of her slaves."

"And I heard", Miryam says lightly, "that spreading rumours about your allies is frowned upon in polite society. At least it's not a very nice way to thank them for winning us an important strategic location."

"Thank you, My Lady", the emissary says and inclines his head

Miryam smiles at the male. "I apologize for the incident. Do tell your Prince that we are grateful for the assistance."

To her surprise, there are no more teasing comments after that. Does she truly have such power over these centuries-old royals?

The vote on accepting Erithia's wish to join the alliance is pure formality. For all their cruel jokes, no one is about to reject an ally this powerful.

After that, the floor is given to a female from one of the countries south of the Black Land. "I'm afraid I don't have good news", she says, "We lost 1500 soldiers yesterday."

Jurian frowns. "What happened?", he asks.

"The Black Land tried to invade, we sent an army to meet theirs. At first, we were holding our own, but then, something changed. I still don't know what exactly happened, but suddenly, our magic stopped working." She shakes her head. "Our soldiers were slaughtered. Less than two hundred made it out alive."

"What do you mean", the Grand Duke of Sangravah asks, "your magic stopped working?"

The female shrugs, looking a bit helpless. There are shadows under her eyes. "It just vanished. High Witcher Artax was at the battle, I assume that he cast a spell."

It's all Miryam can do not to flinch at the male's mention. She takes a deep breath and slips on a mask of neutral interest. She keeps a tight grip on her emotions, refusing to let the sheer terror that's flooding her at the memories appear in her scent.

Helion is watching her closely from the other side of the table. She wonders if he thinks she could have stopped it, if he truly believes she could have gone up against Artax and saved these soldiers.

Queen Nakia shakes her head. "You mean to tell me that one witcher could do this to an entire army?"

Helion snorts without taking his eyes off Miryam. "They could do worse. Artax, especially."

Andromache asks, "Can't we get some of them on our side?"

"The witcher's Guild isn't exactly known to care for mortals", Helion says, "And joining our side would mean giving up on the Sacrifices, which isn't likely. Especially with Artax as the High Witcher."

Miryam wishes she could vanish. Her power is whispering inside her and the fact that this room is full of powerful Fae, all of whom make no effort to dampen their power, isn't helpul at all.

"So", Jurian says (and Miryam doesn't want to hear what he has to say, but she can't stop him), "Nothing we can do about this. Unless someone knows a way to kill all these witches."

A few people laugh. Miryam doesn't.

Fortunately, the conversation turns away from the Guild after that. Instead, they argue endlessly about everything from chains of command to strategies. Miryam doesn't feel like she's entirely there. Even as she navigates the conversation, wielding words like knives, working together with Andromache and the Grand Duke, her thoughts keep drifting back to those dead soldiers.

And finally, the meeting is over. She is so very tired.

Helion winnows all of them back to the camp. Miryam brushes off Jurian's worried question if she's fine and hurries off to her tent.

----

Rhys is having a horrible week.

The flight from Prythian to the Continent with his soldiers was already difficult. It took two days to get to where they were supposed to be and during that time, he had to get through a total of fifteen dominance battles with the Illyrians.

By the time they reach their designated camp, Rhys is done. He's about one insult away from snapping.

This straw is an Illyrian male who somehow thinks it's a good idea to insult a bunch of mortal soldiers and then get into a fight with them. Fortunately, Rhys arrives before someone ends up dead. His power slams through the male's shield and Rhys grabs him by the wing. The male whimpers as he drags him off.

The mortals, however, don't look scared, even though they quite obviously lost the fight. If anything, they seem angry.

"Sorry about that", Rhys calls out to them as he drags the male towards their camp, "That one isn't trained yet."

He doesn't let go of the male's wing until they have reached the Illyrian camp that's still being constructed next to the main one. A part of him wants to shrink back from the cruelty, but these Illyrians understand nothing but brutality.

All around them, Illyrian soldiers stop their work to watch. Rhys drags the male to the centre of the camp.

"Stay away from the mortals", he snaps, loudly enough that everyone can hear him.

He releases the hold on his power enough to let the Illyrians around him feel it in the air. Turns around slowly to hold all of their gazes.

Then, he lets go of the male's wing and stalks off.

Even after his declaration, he spends the day breaking up fights and dealing out punishments (ordering the beatings makes a part of him shrink back each time, but it's all the Illyrians know. Anything less and they won't take him seriously). To make matters worse, after a few hours, the mortals are fed up with the Illyrians' attitude and are tired of being pushed around and start fighting back.

By the time everything is finally settled, Rhys is done. Done with acting so cold and cruel, done with the Illyrians sneering at him. He just wants to go home, back to his family. Or at least, he wants a moment of peace in his tent.

But when he enters the commander's tent, he hears voices. Inside, he finds the Ironcrest Lord, Marek, and a male he never met, though his dark skin makes it seem likely that he's from the Continent.

"What's going on?", Rhys asks sharply.

The male arches an eyebrow at him. "I'm having a meeting with the commander."

"I'm the commander", Rhys says, a growl escaping his throat. He jerks his chin at Marek. "Out. I'll deal with you later."

The male looks inclined to object and Rhys lets his power rumble through the air. Malek bares his teeth, but is smart enough to do as Rhys says.

"As I was just telling that other one: Your soldiers", the strange male hisses, "are a menace. Since you arrived, there were 36 fights. More than in the last two months in total."

Rhys winces. "I apologize for their behaviour. I gave them orders to stay away from the mortals."

"Well, you're not a very good commander, are you?", the male (likely the general in charge of the camp) asks, "Letting your soldiers walk all over you. How did you even get the position, a green boy like you?"

Rhys bristles. "My father, the High Lord, appointed me."

"Oh, wonderful", the General drawls, "A prince. Grown up rich and thinks he deserves everything he got. You probably never even saw battle. You know, I just love kids like you."

Rhys glares at him. "I trained for years to earn that position."

The male laughs. "Then I have news for you, little prince. Your father, apparently, doesn't recognise you as a son. Meaning, no protection for you. So you'll see your fair share of battle." The male brushes past Rhys. "You know", he says as he exits the tent, "I've always wanted to make a privileged little prick like you learn what life is like for normal people."

----

"You're dead", Jurian drawls, "Again."

"I'm sorry", Mor snaps from where she's lying on the ground.

"Don't be sorry, do better."

"I'm trying!"

Jurian glares at her. "No, you aren't. Because your mind is elsewhere." He sheathes his sword. "Either focus on what's going on, or stop entirely."

Mor glares right back. "I just heard that my uncle sent my cousin and one of my best friends to the Continent to fight. And I'm not allowed to contact them, so I have no way of knowing if they are alright." She shakes her head. "They could die and I wouldn't even know."

Jurian doesn't really know what to say. He hasn't had any kind of family beyond his soldiers since he was a child. If Mor wants sympathy, she should go to Miryam. However, Jurian may be able to offer some advice.

"They send out casualty lists", he says, "You can check there."

Mor bites her lip, then nods. "Good idea. Thank you." She hesitates. "You want some advice?"

"What kind of advice?"

Mor looks torn for a moment. Then, she says, "You know, the entire camp noticed what's going on with you and Miryam by now."

"This isn't the kind of thing I'm discussing with you."

Mor shakes her head. "Just make a move, Jurian. Because she isn't about to."

"What did she tell you?"

"Talk to her." With that, Mor turns around and walks off.

For a moment, Jurian considers running after her and making her answer. But somehow, he doubts that would be win him any favour with Miryam.

He straightens. Truth is, he should have talked to her long ago. It's been months since he realised what he feels for her. But better now than never.

He only remembers that his timing is off when he enters Miryam's tent. She's been in a bad mood ever since the meeting. (At least that's what Jurian thinks. But with Miryam, even he sometimes has a hard time telling.)

At the moment, Miryam is standing at her work table, sorting through herbs. Which means she's upset over something. At least she turns around when Jurian enters.

"Did anything happen?", she asks, "You look a bit pale."

Honestly, he considers running off. But that's what cowards do.

"Everything's fine", he says, "Let's go for a walk." Miryam doesn't move and Jurian adds, "Come on. You can't hide in here the entire evening."

It isn't the first time this happens. Miryam thinks no one notices when she has a bad day, but Jurian sees. He can't usually tell why (and asking, he learned early on, is not helpful) but he usually finds some small way to help.

Miryam puts down her herbs. She follows Jurian out of the tent and through the camp.

The sun already set, but the camp is still full of soldiers sitting around campfires. Miryam, once again, is all smiles and kind words, addressing most soldiers by the name. Jurian, too, calls out greetings left and right, but he leads Miryam towards the edge of the camp.

"Where are we going?", she asks once they reach the trees at the edge of the camp.

"It's a surprise."

Jurian thought long and hard on where to tell her, until he finally decided. He prays she'll like the place he chose.

It's a walk of fifteen minutes from the camp. They spend the time talking about this and that - how Kiel's wing is healing, the newest rumours going around the camp, why Queen Nakia has a stick up her ass.

Finally, they reach their destination. Jurian goes first, pulling the branches of a tree apart for Miryam to go through. She pushes past him and goes entirely still, staring at the waterfall before them.

The moon is standing high in the sky and its light reflects on the water, transforming each drop into tiny diamonds.

"It's beautiful", Miryam whispers, awe on her face. Jurian loves that about her, how she treats everything like a precious gift.

Carefully, he reaches out and tugs a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You are beautiful", he says softly, "And kind, and smart. And so very brave."

"Jur..." Miryam turns to him, a thousand feelings reflecting on her face. "I'm not sure if I can do this."

Jurian doesn't know what to reply to that, so he just waits in silence, holding his breath. The waterfall is loud enough to drown out the sound of his racing heart.

Finally, Miryam says, "There's just so much..." She takes a deep breath. "There's so much I never told you. And I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to. But I'm a mess, Jur, I don't think you know how much of a mess I am."

It breaks his heart, to hear her say this. To see her so unhappy. He reaches out for her hand.

"I know that things will be hard", he says, “and that you can't tell me everything, but that doesn't change anything. Because even if I could have every girl in the world, I'd always choose you. You're all I want, all I ever wanted and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

There are tears shining in Miryam's eyes. "I-", she says, but then she freezes, her eyes fixed on something behind Jurian.

He's about to turn when he feels the sting at his back. A sword point pressed against his back, hard enough to draw blood.

"Don't move", a voice hisses from behind him.

Jurian is an idiot. Such a Cauldron-damned idiot. He just berated Mor for not paying attention, and what does he do? Run right into an ambush because he can't take his eyes off Miryam.

"Run!", Jurian snaps at her.

Then, he darts aside, narrowly avoiding being pierced by the sword (those Fae are always surprised when a human fights back). He draws a dagger, but before he can swing at his attacker, ropes of fire wrap around his wrists, climb up his body.

Jurian gasps in pain, the dagger falls out of his hand as he is forced to his knees. The fire isn't hot enough to truly burn his skin, but it hurts. Then, there is cold metal at his throat.

"Don't!", Miryam screams. She is being held by two red-skinned faeries with horns, one male, one female. She's fighting in their grasp, kicking and thrashing.

"Stop it or he dies", a female voice says from behind Jurian and the knife presses harder against his throat.

Miryam freezes. A moment later, the knife vanishes from Jurian's throat. The ropes of fire remain, though, singing his skin. A High Fae female, her skin the same light brown as Miryam's, steps between them.

She laughs softly and points her bloody dagger at Miryam. "You're a wild one, aren't you?" She nods towards her companions.

"Stay away from her!", Jurian shouts. (A nightmare. This is a nightmare.)

No one listens to him. One of the faeries grabs Miryam by the arm and pulls back her sleeve, revealing the brand on her forearm.

"Look at that", the female drawls, "Isn't that just lovely?" She steps closer and runs a hand through Miryam's hair. "You're going to make us very rich, dear."

Jurian is shaking with rage, but also confused. If this is an ambush, why are they only focused on Miryam? They don't even seem to know who he is.

"What are you talking about?", Miryam asks. Her voice is shaking.

"What if she isn't the one we're looking for?", one of the faeries asks, almost worried, "You know what happened the last time a bounty hunter brought the wrong girl."

The High Fae turns to Miryam. "Who was your owner, mortal?"

Miryam just shakes her head wildly. "Please, please, I never did anything, I'm no one, just-"

One of the faeries hits her in the face. "Answer the question, scum."

Jurian strains against the ropes binding him, but that just makes the fire burn more.

Miryam is crying and her voice shakes when she replies, "The crown. I worked in the kitchen, I'm no one. Please, I don't know what you want from me."

Jurian is going to kill these Fae. Slowly. (He knows it's far more likely they'll kill him, but he still imagines the end he'll give them if he gets free.)

The female steps closer to Miryam, who shrinks back. Runs a finger over her cheek. "You're very convincing, dearie. But my guts tell me you're the one."

"No, no, I just worked in the kitchen. Under the cook, Dalior. He always hit me with his spoon, I don't know why-"

One grabs her by the neck, hard enough to make her whimper. Jurian growls softly. But the Fae lifts a hand.

"This is useless", she says.

She turns to Jurian. He has a moment to brace himself before the ropes begin to burn. Pain shoots through him. He grits his teeth, trying to keep from screaming.

"Stop!" Miryam shouts, "Don't hurt him, please!"

"Oh, I don't want to hurt him. Just tell me the truth, then I'll let him go", the female says, "Because you are the girl who stole Queen's lover, right?"

"No", Miryam whispers, "I never even met the Queen, I-"

The pain intensifies and now, Jurian does scream. He can barely hear Miryam begging, the Fae refusing.

"Alright!", Miryam finally shouts.

The pain stops. Jurian falls to the ground, panting. Groaning in pain, he manages to rise to his knees.

Like someone turned a switch, Miryam stops crying. She holds her head high and stares at the Fae. Jurian could have sworn her eyes are burning from within. But maybe, that is just the moonlight playing tricks on him.

"You are right", she says, voice cold as ice, "I was one of Queen Ravenias' personal slaves for three years. I am the one you're looking for. But I didn't steal Prince Drakon - he left because no one in their right mind could stomach being with that monster you call queen for an hour, let alone eternity."

Jurian stares at her, not quite able to hide his shock. Cauldron. He knew she belonged to Ravenia, but he always thought she was one of the thousands of slaves owned by the crown. Not...

"Thank you", the female drawls, "Like I said, you'll make us very rich."

She takes a step towards Jurian. He tries and fails to get up. So this is it. The end. He always wanted to die in battle. Not like this.

"No!", Miryam screams, "You promised to let him go!"

"Oh, hush", the female says, "Once we deliver you to Ravenia, you'll envy his quick death." Then, she draws her dagger.

----

This is mean, I know. I'm sorry. To be fair, I went 10 chapters without a cliffhanger. I'll try to get the next part up as fast as possible.

#miryam #jurian #drakon #morrigan #mor #helion #before the wall #the war

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kaialone · 4 years

Text

Spirit Tracks Translation Comparison: Link’s Journey Begins

This will be a comparison of the original Japanese version and the US English localized version.

Specifically, this will cover the cutscene at the start of the game that first introduces Link.

You can also watch this cutscene for yourself in English and Japanese. If you want, you can check out the EU English version, too.

For the comparison, the usual points apply:

Bolded is the original Japanese text, for the reference.

Bolded and italicized is my translation.

Italicized is the official NOA translation.

A (number) indicates that I have a specific comment to make on that part in the translation notes.

As you read this, please keep in mind that with translations like these, it’s important not to focus on the exact literal wordings, since there is no single “correct answer” when it comes to translations.

Rather than that, consider the actual information that is being conveyed, in which way, and why.

Character in this part who had their name changed between versions:

Cirokuni = Alfonzo.

At Niko’s House:

Niko:

どうだい？わしの作った「実録！神と魔王の大バトル！」は？

So, what do you think of my creation? "True Story! The Great Battle of the God and the Demon King!" (1)

Well? Do I know how to tell a story or what?

I call it "Spirits and Demons...at War!"

Niko:

こいつは数年に一度の傑作...いや大傑作だよ！

This is something like you only see once every few years - it's a masterpiece... no, a great masterpiece!

I only do this show once a year, you know!

It's a blasted masterpiece! A...a...a blasterpiece!

Niko:

なんだまた寝ちまったのかい？リンク

What's this? Did you fall asleep again, Link?

What's this? You fell asleep during my magnum opus?

Niko:

やれやれ...

一緒に住んでるお前だから最新作をタダで見られるんだよ？

わかってんのかい？

Good grief...

You know, because you're living with me, you actually get to see my latest works for free.

You understand?

I can't believe this! You know, Link...

A lot of people would love to be in your position.

As my roommate, you get to see my work for free!

Niko:

わしももう歳だこれが遺作になるかもしれない

少しは真面目に年寄りの作品を味わって欲しいもんだよ...

I'm already pretty old, so this might end up being a posthumous piece.

I really wish you'd at least try a little to appreciate your elder's work...

Plus, I'm not getting any younger here.

This story might be the only thing that proves I existed.

Can't you pay attention for one minute...

And listen to an old man's final creation?

Niko:

聞いてんのかい？リンク

Are you listening, Link?

Are you listening to me, Link?

Link:

ながいよ / あきたよ

It's so long... / I'm bored...

Sort of. / Zzzz...

Niko:

そうかいそうかいそりゃすまなかったねぇ

Alright, alright, I get it. Sorry 'bout that, then.

OK, OK, I can take a hint. Sorry for boring you.

Niko:

おやお前の師匠が来たようだ

久し振りだねシロクニ

Oh, looks like your teacher's here.

Long time no see, Cirokuni.

Look, here comes your mentor.

Hello there, Alfonzo!

Alfonzo:

呆れたもんだなまだここにいたのか...

You gotta be kiddin’ me. You're still here?

Why are you still here, Link?

Alfonzo:

ん？寝ぼけてるのかよ？リンク！

Hm? Are you even awake? Link!

Come on now--wipe the sleep out of your eyes!

Alfonzo:

起きろリンク！

Wake up, Link!

Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!

Alfonzo:

今日は大事な謁見の日だ分かってんのか？

Today's the day of your important audience, don't you know?

Today is a very important day, you know!

It's your audience with the princess!

Link:

なにそれ？/ わすれてた

What's that? / I forgot

What?! / Uh, right.

Alfonzo:

なんと情けねぇそんなだからいつまでたっても半人前なんだよ

This is just pathetic. If you keep this up, you're gonna be a rookie forever.

Don't tell me you forgot!

You won't amount to much if you don't pay attention.

Alfonzo:

お前は今日正式な機関士になるために城へ行くんだろ！？

ゼルダ姫さまに任命して頂く大事な日じゃねぇか！

You're supposed to go to the castle today, so you can become an official engineer!

You know? That important day where Her Highness Princess Zelda is gonna appoint you as one?!

Don't you want your engineer certificate?

Well, the graduation ceremony is at the castle.

Princess Zelda herself is going to do the honors!

Alfonzo:

俺は先に駅で待ってるが寝ぼけたままで来られるか？

迷子になるといけねえから一応言っておくぞ...

駅は道沿いに上の方だわかってな？早く来いよ

I'm gonna be waitin' up ahead by the station, if you can manage to get there half-asleep.

Just so you don't get yourself lost, I'm gonna tell you this once...

The station is along the road. Got it? Then get movin’.

I'm heading to the station now, so meet me there.

Remember, the station is up the road. Don't get lost!

Got it? Good! Then get a move on!

Alfonzo:

ニコじいお邪魔さんです

Pardon me, Old Man Niko.

See you later, Niko.

Translation Note:

The title Niko gave his story is done in a dramatized style, similar to anime episode titles and the like, particularly ones from 90s shōnen.

Comparisons & Thoughts:

The localization in this cutscene is pretty faithful, so this section won’t be all too long. But there are still a few things I want to point out.

First of all, something you will probably notice from this point on is that the English version will sometimes take about two text boxes to say something the Japanese version did in just one.

This is because in Japanese, you can write more words with less characters, due to how the writing system works.

When it comes to English localizations of Japanese games, an additional hurdle is having to work with limited text space that was originally tailored to Japanese writing.

Typically, the older a game is, the bigger this problem will be.

So, localization choices can’t just be based around being accurate, but also what they will be able to even fit.

In the Japanese version, Niko says that his picture story is "something like you only see once every few years” , but in the English version, he instead says “I only do this show once a year, you know!“.

So in Japanese, Niko uses a figure of speech to describe how great his creation is, while in English he says he only does one show like this per year.

I think this is probably a minor translation error, rather than a deliberate change.

And technically, you do see Niko doing another picture story show like this during the credits, which suggests it’s an at least somewhat common thing for him to do.

Something that might be hard to spot in this cutscene in particular is that we got a slightly different characterization for Alfonzo in Japanese.

It only comes up at the very end here, but the idea with him is basically that he talks in a very informal, gruff manner, but completely changes his tone when addressing someone with authority, switching to a far more polite, formal speaking style.

In this cutscene here we see him chew out Link in an especially harsh manner, but then he politely says goodbye to Niko, which makes for a stark contrast.

This gives us a bit of an early glimpse into this character, whom you might first expect to be a simple tough guy, but then shows that he has a more cultivated side as well.

I feel this kinda hints at his past, which we learn about later, and contrasts his character a bit with his ancestor Gonzo, who’s a nice guy, but not formal at all.

But in this case here there is only one line that shows off this contrast, so it’s easy to miss in any case, and it’s a bit harder to get across when writing in English, too.

Overall, the localization in this cutscene is great.

The two points I mentioned aside, it makes sure to include the information that is conveyed in the original version, even if it does it slightly differently.

The writing of the characters’ dialogue feels natural and clever, exactly what you would want from something like this.

A specific example I want to highlight are the lines: “It’s a blasted masterpiece! A…a…a blasterpiece!”

I find this bit to be a nice example of retaining the overall feeling of a portion of text, while still changing it in some form.

The line “it’s a masterpiece… no, a great masterpiece!” from my translation is technically closer to the original, but it also doesn’t get across how the slight escalation of Niko’s description can come across as humorous in Japanese.

So taking the funny escalation of “masterpiece” -> “great masterpiece”, and coming up with the equivalent “blasted masterpiece” -> “blasterpiece” is quite smart, I feel.

And with that, this part concludes. Feel free to check out the next one!

< Previous Part | Start | Next Part >

#legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #spirit tracks #tloz #legend of zelda spirit tracks #legend of zelda translations #spirit tracks translations #my translations #spirit tracks comparisons

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mandarinastronaut · 5 years

Text

Homoromantic subtext in ‘The Goldfinch’

The Goldfinch is a novel written by Donna Tartt, published in 2013. It follows the characters Theodore Decker and Boris Pavlikovsky. The relationship between the two is a bit controversial. Literary critics have completely ignored the implications of a romance.

Let’s start with Theo’s toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia. Since the Tumblr user @borispav has already made an excellent analysis regarding the subject, I’m going to quote them.

”…Internalized homophobia is a fear and aversion toward homosexuality that is felt by a member of said sexuality. It’s an inclination toward projection, a way of securing confidence and self-image (two things which are threatened both systematically and socially) by registering one’s own sexual identity as a flaw in other people.

Toxic masculinity (or hegemonic masculinity) is a series of behaviors and traits found in men who have been molded by the ideologies of patriarchy. This mode of thinking presents a set of standards and conventions which men are expected to both adhere to and promote interpersonally.

When it comes to men, the ultimate goal—in both these cases— is to embody the widely advertised image of what is considered to be a ‘normal’ or ‘average’ man. This man is able-bodied and strong (both physically and mentally). This man fulfills the roles expected of his gender. He is ‘masculine’ in that he does not cry nor outwardly express any emotions outside of anger and lust. As a child he is sociable and sporty. He has many friends and does not struggle with fitting in. As a teen he is rowdy and full of life, armed to the teeth with a ‘healthy’ sex drive; the ultimate manifestation of the phrase “boys will be boys”. As an adult he is married and financially stable. He is on his way to achieving the American Dream: a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a wife that he feels responsible for protecting. He is straight and always has been.”

”Naturally interwoven amongst the pillars of toxic masculinity sits homophobia and its internalized counterpart. Heterosexuality, after all, is a core part of being a ‘normal’ male. Any other errant attraction is therefore meant to be deftly identified and expunged.

Given the sexual nature several of Theo’s fears toward masculinity take on, I believe it is more than safe to assume that he struggles with accepting and acknowledging his own sexuality (whether it be bisexuality or homosexuality, I don’t have a definite stance) as it is at odds with what has been presented as ‘normal’ male behavior.

Sexuality very nearly serves as an antagonist in this novel. It’s depicted as an emotionally draining entity, a wildness, a physical allure, tangible threat, and elusive dream. Theo is almost always at war with it—a sort of subplot to the story that mainly reveals itself in behavior and attitude, rather than direct dialogue or thought.

Sometimes the terror Theo harbors toward homosexuality (and, at its core, his own sexuality) is visceral enough to manifest itself as a palpable real-life danger. For example, aside from being verbally and emotionally abused by kids at school, Theo is also able to recall an instance where several boys held him down and attempted to sodomize him with a stick of deodorant (615). This memory, like the other, is mentioned in a passing, blasé, way. However, the fact that Theo remembers it at all as an adult—and in enough detail to recall the exact names of his aggressors— speaks to the experience’s traumatic weight.

In a similar vein, we have Theo’s negative re-entry into New York: the two different adult men who were implied child molesters (who cornered Theo and physically chased him down the street) serving as more literal manifestations of his own homophobia (404-409). This is the fear, and false pretense, that gay men are ‘perverts’ or ‘child molesters’ brought to life. It’s Theo’s repressed sexuality taunting and confronting him in a brutal, nightmarish, form; an expected effect of having been taught that a part of his identity is inherently ‘bad’ and unremovable.

This, and the bullying incident, are two prime examples of a fairly common literary technique used in which a character’s strongest fears or desires are made physical, rather than just emotional. Such a device works to symbolize/convey their fervency, demonstrate just how pressing and real they are to the afflicted character.”

A few examples of Theo’s internalized homophobia:

He can’t tell his doormen he’s going to miss them, because he thinks it would sound ”gay”. (238)

He feels uncomfortable in the cab because the driver saw Boris kissing him. (396)

He’s embarrassed to be seen with Popper because the breed is seen as ”feminine ” or “gay”. (402)

He’s distraught when Boris asks if he’s Hobie’s partner. (615)

“As for the internalized homophobia, it’s as ever-present as ever in his adulthood. In fact, I think it actually might even be morepronounced and focused than it was in his youth, when his fears primarily manifested themselves in vague and ambiguous ways. As an adult, his aversion is blunt and easy to identify. He graduates from steering clear of things that might insinuate homosexuality, to steering clear of gay men almost altogether. He’s able to acknowledge that they tend to make him uncomfortable, but in terms of trying to understand or mediate on why this is so, little is done. Instead he deems it suffice to drop in a few cursory sentences here and there whilst on the subject of something else, leaving it at that. No bigger picture is addressed, and no critical issue is implied.

For example, what we get are brief and loaded anecdotes like the following:

“I’d inherited my mother’s light-colored eyes, which short of sunglasses at gallery openings made it pretty much impossible to hide pinned pupils—not that anybody in Hobie’s crowd seemed to notice, except (sometimes) a few of the younger, more with-it gay guys— ‘You’re a bad boy,’ the bodybuilder boyfriend of a client had whispered into my ear at a formal dinner, freaking me out thoroughly. And I dreaded going up to the Accounts department at one of the auction houses because one of the guys there—older, British, an addict himself—was always hitting on me.” (472)

The sheer weariness and disdain with which he views threats to his heterosexuality is palpable here. There’s something almost sinister and deceptive about the way he chooses to portray these scenarios, something nightmarish in the way both men seem to be implicitly taunting him, confronting or incriminating him with the knowledge of a secret he pretends not to know. Both cases are clearly sources of great distress to him, as he feels the need to bring them up in context of something that didn’t exactly need the reference. It’s all fine and good that he mentions the "younger gay guys” noticing his pinned pupils, since the topic of thought was drugs, but then to go off and suddenly engage in the quotation of very specific dialogue (“you’re a bad boy”), and the discussion of very specific fears (being hit on by a guy), suggests that there is some deeper trauma demanding acknowledgment at the root. Theo is bothered by this. He is tormented by this. He uses the word dread (dread!!) to try and convey just how much he does not want to be in the same vicinity as someone who may act upon the assumption that he’s gay. (He wants us to assume that’s only because he’s confidently straight and doesn’t want the attention, but we know, in truth, that it’s because he’s both afraid and enraged at someone knowing and confronting him with such an unbidden part of himself).

Either way, it’s clear that he’s aware of the irrational severity of these fears, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought them up of his own volition or chosen to detail the day-to-day effects of their disproportionally crippling nature (i.e. him now despairing a certain department of his work environment). So yes, at some subconscious level, he knows that this isn’t normal, that he is stunted, emotionally, in some way. However, as I said before, he doesn’t ever think about why this is. He doesn’t try to find the problem, or even allude to there possibly being some small discrepancy in the way he’s always perceived his sexual identity. His aversion toward gay men simply remains a ‘mystery issue’, something of obvious weight that Theo wants us to feel, but not know. (Though, we know what it is anyway.)

And as if all this wasn’t obvious enough, we also get the very particular way in which Boris is framed in reference to Kitsey. He reenters Theo’s life right as Theo’s in a crisis over her, the engagement, and the fact that he’s not in love. And I mean this literally; Theo runs into Boris at St. Marks because he’d been on a walk in efforts to find ease of mind, a refuge from the daunting prospect of upcoming marriage (525). What he does find is Boris. Boris, who then, briefly, assumes the role of a hero— the knight in shining armor who’s come to sweep Theo up and away from the worldly snares of expectation and social-rule. This image is only further enforced when Boris comes billowing into his life again at the engagement party, graciously saving him from what (to Theo) was a downright nightmarish scenario. “Let’s get out of here,” is what Boris implores of him, leading them both to the door excitedly (635). Theo’s immediate response is to recognize that this is what he’s been unknowingly hoping this entire time, that Boris’ plea to run away from the engagement party with him is the “only thing that has made sense” to him all night (635). This is the ever-warring sides of illusion and reality at direct confrontation with each other. Choosing to stay at the party would imply that he has an unwavering loyalty to Kitsey (as in to heterosexuality/convention), while choosing to leave would imply that there are other, more genuine, desires drawing him away to something else at heart (his love for Boris, his lust for that wild edge; life without restraint and rule).

Theo chooses to leave. Or, I should probably say, he has no choice but to leave. When given such an enchanting window of escape, at such a precise moment of emotional distress and internal turmoil, it is impossible to resist. Of course his instinct would be to leave with Boris, even without knowing the details of their destination or circumstance. There’s an innate trust and draw that has been built up inside him from their Vegas years; Boris knows the deepest parts of Theo inside and out, and there are little to no other people in his life that he is tied to like that, little to no people that would provide the same type of relief from social-performance and self-deception as Boris would. On instinct (on instinct) Theo is true to himself for once. He physically runs after the thing he prefers, the thing it is that he actually wants. However, I do emphasize ‘on instinct’ because this is certainly more of a one-time, impulsive, occurrence than it is anything else. In the end it’s still Kitsey who Theo deems worthy of a suicide-note, not Boris. It’s still Kitsey who, despite everything, he continues to remain on the fence about all the way through the end of the novel. So, yes, it’s evident that the instinct (to be honest with himself, to go after what he wants etc.) is there, that—even after all these years—it still remains strong enough to be acknowledged and acted upon. However, the pressures of compulsive heterosexuality and toxic masculinity have not lessened their grip either, and, in the end, they are the ones that win.”

(all of this was from the amazing @borispav ‘s blog, thank you for letting me quote you!)

The story is told in retrospect and therefore is completely dependent on memory. Well memory, as we all know, isn’t very reliable. You forget, remember something incorrectly, manipulate and so forth. It is also sort of implied that Theo’s been using all sorts of substances, from hard drugs to alcohol. On the pages 622-623 we find out that Theo’s a ‘black-out’ drunk (he passes out and forgets things). Boris brings up the painting which baffles Theo since he himself has shown it to Boris but completely forgotten about it. Just the fact that he’s forgotten something so insanely important and significant, makes it more than possible that there are other important things he’s forgotten about. Theo tells us that he’s written the book for his mother, and in the hopes that Pippa would read it one day. This makes him quite biased and sets up an agenda for him, therefore implying that he’s willing to manipulate the story to fit his purposes. And because he’s trying to convince everyone (mostly himself, but also the reader) that he’s in love with Pippa, it wouldn’t make much sense for him to write about the true feelings he has for Boris. Though it’s very clear that he doesn’t actually love her. He even says this on page 570;

”Worse: my love for Pippa was muddied-up below the waterline with my mother, with my mother’s death, with losing my mother and not being able to get her back. All that blind, infantile hunger to save and be saved, to repeat the past and make it different, had somehow attached itself, ravenously, to her. There was an instability in it, a sickness. I was seeing things that weren’t there. I was only one step away from some trailer park loner stalking a girl he’d spotted in the mall. For the truth of it was: Pippa and I saw each other maybe twice a year; we e-mailed and texted, though with no great regularity; when she was in town we loaned each other books and went to the movies; we were friends; nothing more. My hopes for a relationship with her where wholly unreal, whereas my ongoing misery, and frustration, were an all-too-horrible reality. Was groundless, hopeless, unrequited obsession any way to waste the rest of my life?”

Even if you were to interpret it differently (Theo actually being in love with her, or at least being sexually attracted to her) it still doesn’t overrule Theo’s love for Boris (Theo could be bi-, pan-, or polysexual etc.).

Now when talking about Boris’ internalized homophobia, it’s not as severe as Theo’s. He’s a lot more accepting and openminded. On page 314. Boris brings up homosexuality;

”…Old poofter?” he asked. I was taken aback. ”No,” I said swiftly, and then; ”I don’t know.” ”Doesn’t matter,” said Boris, offering me the jar. ”I’ve known some sweet olf poofters.” ”I don’t think he is,” I said uncertainly. Boris shrugged. ”Who cares? if he is good to you? None of us ever find enough kindness in the world, do we?“

It’s very clear that by bringing up homosexuality casually like this, he wants to hear how Theo feels about it. This dialogue also tells us that Boris is a lot more accepting than Theo, who’s shocked and troubled by the idea of Hobie being gay.

Boris doesn’t have trouble expressing his feelings, he often even exaggerates them.

Boris says he’s in love with Kotku even though he doesn’t know her (326)

Boris says that he ”loves” Kotku and that she’s ”the truestthing that has ever happened” to him (328).

Boris says that the 'fight’ he and Kotku had, was ”only out of love”, and that they realized ”how much they loved each other” (360).

Boris tells Theo how he and KT became ”so close” in one night, and how they ”opened up their hearts” for each other (602).

Boris says that Bobo was like a father to him (613).

Boris is telling Theo about his tattoo, and says this; ”…This is for Katya, love of my life. I loved her more than any woman I ever knew.” To which Theo responds with; ”You say that about everybody.” Theo’s comment proves that this is something Boris does all the time.

But with Theo, he can express himself only through action, rather than words. It’s important to bear this in mind whenever interpreting his actions.

Quoting the Tumblr user @queer-deckovskij ;

”…Part II of The Goldfinch Book contains the chapters Badr al-Dine and Wind, Sand and Stars, in which Boris and Theo meet, go on adventures, live a pair of year together, fight, love each other, then say goodbye. These 200 pages are introduced by a quote Donna put right before chapter 5, that comes from the poet Arthur Rimbaud and says,

When we are very strong, - who draws back? very gay*, - who cares for ridicule? When we are very bad, - what would they do with us?

So where do I start? This quote accurately depicts Boris’ and Theo’s friendship in a way that takes my breath away. It contains all the force and stubbornness and courage of the angry youth they represent. She couldn’t have picked a better quote to represent them. But that’s not all. The small poem doesn’t end here - Donna cut the second part of it, which says,

Deck yourself, dance, laugh. I could never throw Love out of the window.

Yes, the poem used to represent Theo and Boris’ relationship is a love poem. I think it’s really important the notion of who Arthur Rimbaud was. He lived in France during the 19th century and while still very young he had a homosexual affair with another poet, named Paul Verlaine; they ran off together and for quite some time they shared a really unhealthy and irregular life, mostly based on drugs and alcohol and dangerous experiences. Les Poètes maudits, yes? They lived in the same house for a few years and ended up splitting up in quite a violent way (Verlaine shot Rimbaud twice). Does this experience remind you of someone? A couple of guys who drank beer and did drugs like it was a packet of chips and a bottle of pepsi? Inserting that quote, Donna Tartt literally compared Theo and Boris to Rimbaud and Verlaine. Which means that, officially, Theo and Boris’s love was not a platonic one.

*I do not know if Donna inserted this translation or a more neutral one, like cheerful or jolly; the original French poem uses the word gai, which literal translates as gay.”

When Boris starts dating Kotku, Theo is forced to think about what his and Boris’ relationship was for the first time. Though, it’s already been implied earlier that Theo might have a crush on Boris.

Subtext of Theo’s attraction toward Boris;

He’s staring at Boris’ stomach (272).

He’s staring at Boris’ neck (284).

He’s staring at Boris who’s wearing nothing but Theo’s underwear (307).

He’s staring at Boris’ shirtless chest (308).

He’s staring at Boris’ lower abdomen (383).

Theo is jealous of Kotku, he’s even depicted as a pissed ‘house-wife’.

Page 327; ”…But what did bother me -a lot- was how Kotku (I’ll continue to call her by the name Boris gave her, since I can’t now remember her real name) had stepped in overnight and virtually assumed ownership of Boris. First he was busy on Friday night. Then it was the whole weekend–not just the night, but the day too. Pretty soon, it was Kotku this and Kotku that, and the next thing I knew, Popper and I were eating dinner and watching movies by ourselves.”

(Theo’s been depicted as a ‘house-wife’ before on page 277.)

Even though he’s feeling jealous and left behind, he still tries to convince himself and the reader that their relationship was nothing but platonic, that he doesn’t really care whether Boris has a girlfriend or not. Still, it isn’t so simple. He can’t find a right word to describe their relationship.

”…But who cared what crappy girl Boris liked? Weren’t we still friends? Best friends? Brothers practically? Then again: there was not exactly a word for Boris and me. Until Kotku came along, I had never thought too much about it.” (333)

If their relationship was really platonic, Boris having a girlfriend wouldn’t affect their “friendship” or “brotherhood” in the slightest.

Theo’s projecting into Boris because of his internalized homophobia. We find out that Theo doesn’t mind Boris showing physical affection, and that he even enjoys it (it’s the only thing that calms him down from his nightly terrors). This is something that he doesn’t want to admit. He’s constantly trying to convince the reader that there aren’t any stronger, possibly romantic, feelings attached. It’s actually quite comedic.

”The funny thing: I’d worried, if anything, that Boris was the one who was a little too affectionate, if affectionate is the right word. The first time he’d turned in bed and draped an arm over my waist, I lay there half-asleep for a moment, not knowing what to do: staring at my old socks on the floor, empty beer bottles, my paperbacked copy of The Red Badge of Courage. At last–embarrassed–I faked a yawn and tried to roll away, but instead he sighed and pulled me closer, with a sleepy, snuggling motion. Shh, Potter, he whispered, into the back of my neck. Is only me. It was weird. Was it weird? It was; and it wasn’t. I’d fallen back to sleep shortly after, lulled by his bitter, beery unwashed smell and his breath easy in my ear. I was aware I couldn’t explain it without making it sound like more than it was. On nights when I woke strangled with fear there he was, catching me when I started up terrified from the bed, pulling me back in the covers beside him, muttering in nonsense Polish, his voice throaty and strange with sleep. We’d drowse off in each other’s arms, listening to music from my iPod (Thelonious Monk, The Velvet Underground, music my mother had liked) and sometimes wake clutching each other like castaways or much younger children.” (335)

In the end, we finally find out that they’ve even been sexually intimate. Since this is something they’ve done regularly, it’s more than safe to say that they’re at least sexually attracted to each other. Still, Theo keeps projecting into Boris, saying that he’s the one ”who might have the wrong idea”.

“…And yet (this was the murky part, this was what bothered me) there had also been other, way more confusing and fucked-up nights, grappling around half-dressed, weak light from the bathroom and everything haloed and unstable without my glasses: hands on each other, rough and fast, kicked-over beers foaming on the carpet–fun and not that big of a deal when it as actually happening, more than worth it for the sharp gasp when my eyes rolled back and I forgot about everything; but when we woke the next morning stomach-down and groaning on opposite sides of the bed it receded into an incoherence of backlit flickers, choppy and poorly lit like some experimental film, theunfamiliar twist of Boris’s features fading from memory already and none of it with any more bearing on our actual lives than a dream. We never spoke of it; it wasn’t quite real; getting ready for school we threw shoes, splashed water at each other, chewed aspirin for our hangovers, laughed and joked around all the way to the bus stop. I knew people would think the wrong thing if they knew, I didn’t want anyone to find out and I knew Boris didn’t either, but all the same he seemed so completely untroubled by it that I was sure it was just a laugh, nothing to take too seriously or get worked up about. And yet, more than once, I had wondered if I should step up my nerve and say something: draw some kind of line, make things clear, just to make absolutely sure he didn’t have the wrong idea. But the moment had never come. Now there was no point in speaking up and being awkward about the whole thing, though I scarcely took comfort in the fact.” (335-336)

Boris feels troubled because his and Theo’s relationship has become so intimate. He’s not sure if Theo feels the same way about him, and that creates a lot of stress and confusion for him. He makes a subconscious decision to resolve the situation by jumping into an impulsive relationship with Kotku (there aren’t any strong feelings attached). The relationship is completely physical, (they’re sexually attracted to each other, that’s it) even though Boris tries to convince Theo it isn’t so. Soon after they start dating, they begin to argue like an old married couple. It even goes so far that Boris punches Kotku (in the face).

Then Theo’s dad dies, and Theo has to leave Vegas in order to avoid his worst nightmare; social workers. Tartt depicts the 'goodbye’ scene quite dramatically, starting it with Boris humming a song by The Velvet Underground called After Hours. The song is about, you guessed it, unwilling goodbyes, love etc. By inserting this song to the very start, Tartt creates the perfect atmosphere for the whole scene, implying that there are strong romantic feelings between the two. They’ve listened to the song together, and so, Boris tries to manipulate Theo into staying by humming it.

”…Boris, I realized, was looking up at the sky and humming to himself, a line from one of my mother’s Velvet Underground songs: but if you close the door… the night could last forever…” (392)

The certainty of the situation starts to sink in on Theo, and he starts expressing his true feelings for the first and last time in the novel, in fact, he’s lost all control over himself. Boris realizes that Theo’s expressing his real feelings (probably predicting a confession) and since Boris has stolen the painting (something Theo’s completely unaware of) he’s accepted that he’s completely ruined any chances of continuing the relationship, (knowing that Theo would hate him after finding out) and just can’t bear to hear any more of what Theo’s saying. So, he interrupts Theo by kissing him on the lips. Now, besides the suggestive placement of the kiss, (not only is it in the goodbye scene but its right before Theo’s confession as well) the way Theo reacts to it makes it very clear that this is unusual behavior, and not something Boris has done before, (Theo wouldn’t have missed a chance to make the whole situation seem as platonic as possible, he would have tried to pull some bullshit like ”oh yeah this is something Boris does all the time lmao doesn’t mean anything”. And they know each other so well that they can communicate without words, so I think it’s safe to say that Theo would’ve known about it if it was usual behavior for Boris.) the kiss is clearly more than platonic, to say the least.

”…Really, you have to come. We can go to Brighton Beach—that’s where all the Russians hang out. Well, I’ve never been there. But the train goes there—it’s the last stop on the line. There’s a big Russian community, restaurants with smoked fish and sturgeon roe. My mother and I always talked about going out there to eat one day, this jeweler she worked with told her all the good places to go, but we never did. It’s supposed to be great. Also, I mean—I have money for school—you can go to my school. No—you totally can. I have a scholarship. Well, I did. But the guy said as long as the money in my fund was used for education—it could be anybody’s education. Not just mine. There’s more than enough for the both of us. Though, I mean, public school, the public schools are good in New York, I know people there, public school’s fine with me.” I was still babbling when Boris said: “Potter.” Before I could answer him he put both hands on my face and kissed me on the mouth. And while I stood blinking—it was over almost before I knew what had happened—he picked up Popper under the forelegs and kissed him too, in midair, smack on the tip of his nose. Then he handed him to me. ”Your car’s over there,” he said, giving him one last ruffle on the head. And—sure enough—when I turned, a town car was creeping up the other side of the street, surveying the addresses. We stood looking at each other—me breathing hard, completely stunned. ”Good luck,” said Boris. ”I won’t forget you.” then he patted Popper on the head. ”Bye, Popchyk. Look after him, will you?” he said to me.” (394-395)

When Theo gets in the cab, he acknowledges his feelings for Boris and confesses his love for him. This is the first and last time he does this (at least according to Theo’s narrative, which as we know, isn’t very reliable).

”Later—in the cab, and afterward—I would replay that moment, and marvel that I’d waved and walked away quite so casually. Why hadn’t I grabbed his arm and begged him one last time to get in the car, come on, fuck it Boris, just like skipping school, we’ll be eating breakfast over cornfields when the sun comes up? I knew him well enough to know that if you asked him the right way, at the right moment, he would do almost anything; and in the very act of turning away I knew he would have run after me and hopped in the car laughing if I’d asked one last time. But I didn’t. And, in truth, it was maybe better that I didn’t—I say that now, though it was something I regretted bitterly for a while. More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I’d stopped myself from blurting the thing on the edge of my tongue, the thing I’d never said, even though it was something we both knew well enough without me saying it out loud to him in the street—which was, of course, I love you.” (395)

When they run into each other as adults, Theo starts commenting on Boris’ appearance almost immediately. This isn’t something Theo’s done before, his internalized homophobia won’t allow him to. Boris is the only male he depicts this way.

”…There he was, sliding in across from me, slingin the hair from his face in a gesture that brought the past ringing back. “I was just about to leave.” “Sorry.” Same dirty, charming smile. “Had something to do. Didn’t Myriam explain?” “No she didn’t.” “Well. Is not like I work in accounting office. Look,” He said leaning forward, palms on the table, “don’t be mad! Was not expecting to run into you! I came as quick as I could! Ran, practically!” He reached across with cupped hands and slapped me gently on the cheek. “My God! Such a long time it is! Glad to see you! You’re not glad to see me too?” He’d grown up to be good-looking. Even at his gawkiest and most pinched he’d always had a likable shrewdness about him, lively eyes and quick intelligence, but he’d lost that half-starved rawness and everything else had come together the right way.” (596)

Then we find out that Boris has been embittered this whole time because he ruined his and Theo’s relationship (Thinking that Theo holds a grudge for him because of the painting). So, Boris projects onto Theo. He brings up their sexual intimacy, and offends him;

”…why do I feel like you’re trying to change the subject?” ”Not trying to judge! It’s just—we did crazy things back then. Things I think maybe you don’t remember. No, no!” he said quickly, shaking his head, when he saw the look on my face. ”Not that. Although I will say, you are the only boy I have ever been in bed with!” My laugh spluttered out angrily, as if I’d coughed or choked on something. ”With that—” Boris leaned back disdainfully in his chair, pinched his nostrils shut—”pfah. I think it happens at that age sometimes. We were young, and needed girls. I think maybe you thought it was something else. But, no, wait” he said quickly, his expression changing—I’d scraped back my chair to go— ”wait,” he said again, catching my sleeve, “don’t, please, listen to what I’m trying to tell you, you don’t at all remember the night when we were watching Dr. No?” I was getting my coat from the back of my chair…” (622)

Theo is clearly hurt by Boris’ words, even though he doesn’t admit it.

As if all of this wasn’t already obvious enough, Tartt’s sprinkled all sorts of subtext all over the novel;

Theo takes extraordinary notice of the sex books his therapist has. Tartt is already, this early into the book, implying that sexuality might be a theme for Theo. (162)

During Theo’s and Boris’ first conversation, Theo asks Boris to say something in one of the multiple languages Boris speaks and he decides to say something quite suggestive, which is; ”fuck you up the ass”. (265)

Theo’s internalized homophobia is taunting him, he says he feels ”shameful”, ”worthless”, ”tainted” and ”wrong”, and that he doesn’t know the origin for these emotions. (440-441)

Theo thinks about Boris every day and everything reminds him of Boris. (465)

Theo still remembers Boris’ home phone number in Vegas and even uses the last digits of it for the combination padlock that’s securing the painting. (532)

Theo confesses that he has googled Boris in the past. (595)

”You know what I did in college?” I was telling him. ”I took Conversational Russian for a year. Totally because of you. I did really shitty in it, actually. Never got good enough to read it, you know, sit down with Eugene Onegin—you have to read it in Russian, they say, it doesn’t come through in translation. But—I thought of you so much! I used to remember little things you’d say—all sorts of things came back to me—oh, wow, listen, they’re playing 'Comfy in Nautica,’ do you remember that? Panda Bear! I totally forgot that album. Anyway. I wrote a term paper on The Idiot for my Russian Literature class—Russian Literature in translation—I mean, the whole time I was reading it I thought about you, up in my bedroom smoking my dad’s cigarettes. It was so much easier to keep track of the names if I imagined you saying them in my head … actually, it was like I heard the whole book in your voice! Back in Vegas you were reading The Idiot for like six months, remember? In Russian. For a long time it was all you did. Remember how for a long time you couldn’t go downstairs because of Xandra, I had to bring you food, it was like Anne Frank? Anyway, I read it in English, The Idiot, but I wanted to get there too, to that point, you know, where my Russian was good enough. But I never did.” (614-615)

Theo depicts Pippa by referring to Boris. (678)

Tartt has placed a character from one of her earlier novels The secret history, Francis Abernathy, a homosexual man who was forced by circumstance to marry a woman, in Theo’s engagement party as a parallel for him. (710)

”Only what is that thing? Why am I the way I am? Why do I care about all the wrong things, and nothing at all for the right ones? Or, to tip it another way: how can I see so clearly that everything I love or care about is illusion, and yet—for me, anyway—all that’s worth living for lies in that charm? A great sorrow, and one I am only beginning to understand: we don’t get to choose our own hearts. We can’t make ourselves want what’s good for us or what’s good for other people. We don’t get to choose the people we are. Because—isn’t it drilled into us constantly, from childhood on, an unquestioned platitude in the culture—? From Willian Blake to Lady Gaga, from Rousseau to Rumi to Tosca to Mister Rogers, it’s a curiously uniform message, accepted from high to low: when in doubt, what to do? How do we know what’s right for us? Every shrink every career counselor, every Disney princess knows the answer: ”Be yourself.” ”Follow your heart.” Only here’s what I really, really want someone to explain to me. What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted—? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement, the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or—like Boris—is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name? It’s not about outward appearances but inward significance. A grandeur in the world, but not of the world, a grandeur that the world doesn’t understand. That first glimpse of pure otherness, in whose presence you bloom out and out and out. A self one does not want. A heart one cannot help.” (852-853). Since the main themes of the novel are authenticity and unauthenticity (good and bad, right and wrong) it makes perfect sense to have sexuality be a subtheme.

Love restricts one’s personal life. Committing to something so uncertain and scary, as serious romantic relationships are, is impossible for Boris due to his traumatic childhood. This (aside from thinking he’s ruined their relatonship) is the reason why he’s stayed out of Theo’s life for all these years.

”…Boris laughed. “And you love her, yes. But not too much.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you are not mad, or wild, or grieving! You are not roaring out to choke her with your own bare hands! Which means your soul is not too mixed up with hers. And that is good. Here is my experience. Stay away from the ones you love too much. Those are the ones who will kill you. What you want to live and be happy in the world is a woman who has her own life and lets you have yours.” (667)

Later, in Amsterdam, during the shootout, Boris physically follows this ideology and his true feelings- he’s ready to die for Theo. Theo confessed his love verbally, this is Boris confessing his love in the way most natural to him, through action;

”…Again Boris moaned, as the guy yanked his hair once more, and from across the car threw me an unmistakable look—which I understood just as plainly as if he’d spoken the words aloud, an urgent and very specific cut of the eyes straight from our shoplifting days: run for it, Potter, go.” (760)

Can a Pulitzer prize-winning author write this blatant subtext accidentally? Is this just another case of cheap queerbaiting? It’s up to you to decide.

———————————————————————————————————–

A look at internalized homophobia and toxic masculinity as presented in the character of Theodore Decker; https://borispav.tumblr.com/post/179768610308/a-look-at-internalized-homophobia-and-toxic

by https://borispav.tumblr.com/

Post on Arthur Rimbaud’s poem; http://queer-deckovskij.tumblr.com/post/171833208225/so-very-important-detail-i-dont-know-if-any-of

by http://queer-deckovskij.tumblr.com/

All page numbers are from my copy of the book, meaning that I’ve changed the ones in the quotations from the original ones to my own.

I received technical writing help from a friend of mine, as I am dyslexic and have trouble expressing myself sometimes, who wants to stay anonymous, thank you anonymous!

#the goldfinch #boreo #theo decker #boris pavlikovsky #donna tartt #theodore decker #tgf #rin's analysis

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thebarefootking · 4 years

Text

The Rocket Ship

It's a well-observed fact that the strange ones tend to find one another.

We all have heard of cliques in high school (or even earlier) that, over the course of life, individually discover themselves (and often, then, each other) to be queer, neurodivergent, or some other kind of not-normative. Many of us belonged to them.

This is the story of my friend KV and how we fell into mutual weirdness.

KV and I met for the first time in daycare, just before I aged out at ten years old. They were half a year younger than me, and a grade lower in school. (They, like myself at the time, were not out as nonbinary; I didn't know anyone who used singular they pronouns or who was out as nonbinary, or even what that meant, until I was well into adulthood.)

We were fast friends, possibly because neither of us had bonded particularly well with any of the other kids at daycare. Maybe one or two would acknowledge and chat with us at breakfast, but most of our recreation time was spent just the two of us, playing imaginative games among the playground equipment.

The next year, I aged out of the daycare, and KV aged up into the same middle school I attended. I frequently made time to visit their locker between classes, and we grew closer.

One catalyst for this closeness was a number of musicals we performed in together. The first was a local production of Children of Eden which had open casting for children, and which was being directed by a mutual friend of our families. Both of us were accepted into the production.

As the children's cast for this play was only needed for two scenes or so, there was plenty of time to screw around doing whatever we wanted to do (so long as we were quiet about it). There, one of our playground games solidified into a full-on roleplay of sorts, an unending game in which the two of us took the parts of anthropomorphic cat people sent by a rocket ship from the planet Meowmix in the Eukanuba galaxy, in order to complete a long-term recon mission.

It suited our (to this day undiagnosed, but very much present) autistic traits. What autistic person hasn't at least once felt like a different species, trying to learn the culture and habits of Earth's dominant lifeform? We simply made a canon of it, and developed that canon everywhere.

We even had a secret substitution code, full of words that meant other things. "I'm going to buy a pineapple," they would say, before slipping off to use the restroom.

"I'll keep an eye out for sprinkles," I'd reply, and begin to covertly sweep the area for cops/untrustworthy adults/mall security… for some reason.

It was the sort of game that could truly be an artificial context for anything else.

Mostly, though, it tended to be an artificial context for our profound isolation and loneliness, even if we never dared break character long enough to say so to one another. If our alien characters talked about being misunderstood and missing home, it meant we never had to admit to being estranged from our cohort. I, for my part, didn't even admit to myself what emotions we were loading off onto our game.

Besides, our 'Cat-Human' counterparts had something we did not, when it came to that topic: hope of a return to 'normalcy'.

I could write for hours about our game, and all the fun and weird things we got up to. (For a while, our thing was giving individual nickels [which we called 'engravings of Thomas Jefferson'] to random mall-goers, just for the thrill of human interaction, and to see how they would react. Once, one dude gave us an 'engraving of George Washington' in return, for a profit of 20 cents!)

Instead, though, I'll tell you about the ostensible end of the game.

It was another play we were in together, some two years after the first. Both of us had tried out for middle school 'children's' roles in the high school's yearly musical, and gotten our parts. Mine was a major speaking role; theirs was a chorus part. Even so, I still had few enough scenes that we had time to play in between.

Things went pear-shaped, though, in a way I didn't expect. On the first night of the show, KV was dealing with unexpected and intense stage-fright. I walked onto the backstage floor from the back entrance, and half a dozen other kid actors were surrounding them, trying to talk them down from what I now know was either a panic attack or an autistic meltdown. (Maybe both! Hell knows I sometimes can't tell the difference in my own.)

I told all the other actors to back off and give them some space, and then I moved in to check on them. They were speaking rapidly and almost incoherently about there being too many humans in the audience, and how they weren't ready to be seen. They were talking to me as if still in the game.

And I, twelve-year-old that I was, and in an empathic panic on their account, didn't understand.

I didn't know that they were communicating their emotions about the impending performance in the only way they knew how (that being, through the game we had both used for so long to frame our emotions). I thought they were confusing the game with reality. I thought that they were legitimately convinced they were a humanoid cat alien and that the Earthling audience was dangerous.

And with about twenty seconds to go before our scene, I was pissed. They picked now to play a stupid game?

I snapped on them. "It's not real, KV. You're not a freaking cat person. You're a human, and you already committed to doing this show. No one here is dangerous. There's just you, and you've done plays with a way bigger audience than this, before."

I didn't stop to think that this role was much more intricate than most they had performed before. Or that it was much closer to home, with their father leading the pit orchestra below, and likely with their entire extended family watching. Or any of the other reasons they might have had on this particular night that I couldn't know about. It didn't even occur that I was taking away their last support in the face of sheer panic.

In my opinion at the time, they were just being childish. And I let them know it, as viciously as I could manage in fifteen seconds. Then I pushed them into the lineup, went to my own spot, and seethed.

Really, I thought, how dare they try to use our game as a way to avoid responsibility?

We didn't talk much for a while after that.

Thankfully, it was a short while, and -- somehow; I have no idea how -- we eventually came up with a new game. Somehow -- I have no idea how -- we fell into a solid friendship again, if a slightly more formal one.

After all, we had to hold the fort; both of us were the topic of bitter rumours, usually about our sexualities and what we did with them. (Oddly, despite us both being rumoured to be lesbians, no one ever rumoured that we were together. I suspected it was because of the class year difference, but it's more likely because we each had closer friends that filled the rumour role better.)

At any rate, things moved along, all the way past my graduation from high school. Even then, I frequented the school football games, just to hang around the band, in which they played the saxophone. (This irritated KV’s father, the band director, to no end! haha)

And one night, at a house party one of our mutual friends was hosting, they verbally pulled me aside. We moved to an out-of-the-way porch swing in a darkened corner of the yard. For a while, we just played catch-up; there had been something of a lull in our friendship, just on account of scheduling. And then,

"There’s something I wanted to tell you. I'm a lesbian."

We were both silent for a moment.

"I know," I eventually admitted. Because I did; there had been too many hints for too long. Even beyond just rumour.

This, in retrospect, was a fucking shitty way to respond, but they took it in stride. After another silence, they prodded me further. "And what do you think about that?"

"I think it's a sin. But I still care about you, and this doesn't change my opinion of you."

Again, a shitty thing to say.

"Well," they said. "It's just... how I am."

I really can't overstate how unfailingly kind and polite they were to me, when I very much did not deserve it. Maybe they were trying to salvage the friendship. I don't know for sure. For my part, I just assumed that being gay meant you weren't trying hard enough. After all, I was attracted to girls, too, and I wasn't gay. Right?

Not that I said that to them. We didn't really hang out much after that, and they soon moved away for college.

College, and then the subsequent year and a half spent living away from my family, had an enormous impact on my views toward many things, but sexuality in particular. Eventually, I was able to apologise, some time after I got kicked out of my parents' house for coming out as bisexual. (Surprise!) We discovered at that point that we had both drifted away from Christianity in favor of eclectic paganism.

We've been oddly in step, that way.

When I told them recently that I was nonbinary, they told me that they were as well. Later, when they came to town, we got Mexican food and had a long talk, during which we discovered that we are both neurodivergent, and in some extremely similar ways… which caused us both to drop out of college.

We each finally got a cat, which we'd both been wanting for years.

Halfway through lunch, KV said one of the most weirdly intimate things I've ever had said to me: "If there was anyone on Earth I was drift-compatible with, it'd be you."

It was blown away for a second or so; that's like admitting to a form of soulmatedom. But then… I got it, y'know?

Because, honestly, there's no one I've been more understood by than them, even if we sometimes had to create a new language to make it happen.

I wish I got to see them more frequently. I feel like I can appreciate them now in a way I didn't know how to before. I haven't been the best friend to them; in fact, I've been downright abhorrent at times. But I think I can make it up, now.

#a year of writing #03102020 #homophobia #biphobia #internalised biphobia #antiautistic ableism #actuallyautistic #long post #in which lauren is NOT the hero of the story >_>

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nihilnovisubsole · 5 years

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My fashion queen, incredibly important question: How would one go about figuring out fashion *style* for characters? I've noticed your OCs always have a Look(TM), and I've gathered from your blog (and fics) that you've got an eye for aestethics - please, could you give me advice at least where to *start*. I'm completely unaware of fashion and, frankly, completely overwhelmed at the prospect of just starting..

Ah! Previous Anon again - forgot to add a more specific question about fashion (I’m squeezing in 2 quesiton in one xD). Do you have fashion advice for sleek/distant female character’s clothing that doesn’t hinge on formal dresses? (as is discernable, I have literally NO idea what a Grown Ass, Self Respecting Woman would wear)

wow. that’s high praise. when i got this yesterday morning, i knew i wanted to give it the answer it deserved. this is over 1500 words long, so apologies to anyone on mobile, but i wasn’t letting go until i’d really sunk my teeth into it.

unfortunately, since you’re anon, i don’t know enough about your character to suggest anything specific. instead, i want to take a step back and see if we can solve the root of the problem - “where do i start?”

when i was a teenager, an english teacher told me this: “the biggest constraint in writing is no constraint at all.” when you have the whole spectrum of something - in this case, clothes - to pick from, it is overwhelming. the natural human instinct is to freeze up. so while it may sound strange, if you’re just starting out, you might feel better if you have some constraints to work within.

with that in mind, you can treat finding a ‘signature look’ for your character like solving a murder mystery. you eliminate all the suspects that don’t fit until you know enough to narrow it down to the one that does. that’s going to involve something else you’ll recognize from murder mysteries: you’re going to have to interrogate the character. open them up and get to know them - their background, their likes and dislikes, their quirks, the role they play in the world around them. every answer will give you clues and weed other things out, and eventually, you’ll get a box small enough that you feel comfortable working in it.

now, i love fashion, and i love using clothes to send messages about a character’s personality. so as someone who’s had that interest for my whole life, i work from the other end. the constraints happen, in large part, without me thinking about them. i tend to zoom right to a certain aesthetic or item of clothing, say, “okay, what outfit can i build with this,” and go from there. but since you’ve said you’re “unaware” of fashion and it’s intimidating to you, i’ll try to ease you in through a different route and see whether that helps.

so, if we’re going to pick your character apart, let’s think about some practical questions first:

what setting does your character live in?

if you’ve narrowed your setting down to a historical decade, you’ll find most of the style questions already - firmly! - answered for you. for example, a victorian woman would, by default, wear skirts. if the character is contemporary, you’ve got a lot more wiggle room. if you want to mess with historical fashion rules for symbolic or story purposes, awesome, but i think that’s probably more advanced than you’re looking for right now.

if the setting is fantasy or sci-fi, what’s its dominant aesthetic? is it cyberpunk? sleek ~apple~ sci-fi? or is it more like star wars? is it medieval fantasy? woodsy faerie fantasy? JRPG-style fantasy? you get the idea.

what does your character do?

speaks for itself. what’s their job?

what is your character like, just in general?

this is where everything you know about their personality goes. if they’re a fussy courtier who’s worried about their reputation and appearance, they’re probably not going to be comfortable in plain, casual clothes.

what can your character afford to wear?

again, speaks for itself. do they buy designer brands? are they trying their best with what they have? or are they super strapped for cash and just have to get the job done?

does their social scene have an easily-identifiable aesthetic that you could work with?

does your character wear urban/street fashion or preppy rich-kid clothes? are they part of a subculture that dresses in a certain way, like teddy boys? do they have the desire or freedom to go all-in with that style, or do they have to play it down, like being corporate goth?

do they need to wear something they could travel, do hard work, or fight in?

goes with the job question above. do they need some kind of outerwear or accessory where they can hide weapons? do they always need to be ready, or is it situational?

basically, where does the character’s aesthetic need to sit on a chart of form vs. function?

what do other characters who are similar to your character wear?

look at your favorite movies, games, and TV shows and see what professional designers are doing with characters like yours. what colors and cuts are they using? what other elements do they choose? do you like them? if you don’t like them, what would you change? sometimes you can learn more from what you hate than what you love.

hopefully, you’ve already culled a huge swath of fashion ideas that you Know You’re Not Going To Do. you may still not know what you do want to do, either! that’s fine. let’s move onto some more artsy questions:

are there any colors your character would prefer or avoid?

it sounds silly. it’s not. a limited color palette will go a long way toward making a character’s outfits look unified and purposeful. obviously, in real life, most people don’t restrict themselves as much as fictional characters do. but if you were a costume designer, you’d want to have some guideposts to work with.

are there any motifs you associate with your character?

animals, elements, religious or cultural symbols, plants - you can sneak all these into their clothes’ details. maybe their dress has beading in the shape of a peacock, or rose earrings, or icy sparkles, or a bear pelt for a cloak.

have fun with meanings! moon motifs for mysteriousness, poisonous flowers, etc. let your inner lit major out.

do you want your character to have a certain silhouette?

this may seem odd if you’re just going to be writing your character and not drawing them, but think about it anyway. do you want to emphasize that your character is tall? is everything they wear skintight? do they have a large, unique hat?

a great example of this is maleficent. not only does she have a horn-shaped headdress, her huge, flowing robe tells us there’s a much bigger power in her than her body would suggest.

is there a certain ethos you want their clothes to project? what, in their world, would do that? what in our world would do that?

let’s say you want your character to look very powerful, to the point where people would find their looks alone intimidating. should they wear sharp, simple, severe clothes, maybe in dark colors? or should they wear very embellished clothes, like royalty? what are your setting’s ideas about beauty? modesty? does your character play by the rules, or do you want them to stand out?

what colors, shapes, and styles appeal to you personally?

for all the time i’ve spent talking about restrictions and guidelines, it’s important not to lose the fun of it, either. use your favorite color! give them clothes you’d want to wear in real life! character style is a playground where you can let wish fulfillment run wild.

at any time, feel free to turn to google or wikipedia if you’re not sure how to answer one of these questions. if you see an interesting idea, pick it up and follow it - what you’re doing here is training your eye, and that’s how you’ll learn. that said, if you’re already intimidated, i wouldn’t dive too deep into couture/aesthetic blogs until i had a more solid grip on how i wanted the character to look. it comes back to what i said earlier - there is such a thing as too much to choose from, especially when you’re not sure what you should be looking for yet.

there’s one other thing i want to mention that can help bring a character’s wardrobe together: repetition. if you’re planning several outfits for a character instead of just one, echo some of the motifs, shapes, or colors from one to the next. they don’t all have to be identical takes on the same thing, but if they have certain traits in common, they’ll feel less like separate outfits and more like a matched set. they could all be in members of the same color family or have similar patterns on them. maybe your character has a certain accessory that they wear with everything. you get the idea.

while i may not be able to plan your character’s wardrobe outright, i hope this makes the whole process seem more straightforward. or that it gives you some ideas to work with, or any other kind of help you might take away from it. this post is getting unfathomably long, so i’ll wrap it up, but i’d be happy to put any of my own characters through a “question test” like this one if you’d like to see how it works in practice.

finally, if you can find an interview with an artist or costume designer who worked on something you like, those things are worth their weight in gold. i read an interview with colleen atwood when i was in middle school, and it revolutionized the way i thought about fashion and storytelling. and when i say “revolutionized,” i mean “i owe basically everything i just told you to that article.” dig into them and see how they think and talk about their art! they’re more qualified to teach you than i ever will be.

#anon #asks #fashion #writing

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iniquity-fr · 5 years

Text

i said i would elaborate on my thoughts/lore i guess re: dragons n shapeshifted (humanoid) forms and like.. social rules and whatnot around all that.... and then i wrote a ridiculous amount of notes abt the whole thing, oops.

separated into key sections but still very rambly and stream-of-thought overall, bc, when do i not type..... weird. words are eternally difficult for me and thoughts are a struggle to articulate, but i hope any of this.. makes sense? obviously this is largely abt my own clan/dragons/headspace/etc and not like. headcanons about other ppl’s stuff in general or anything like that haha. this is a LOT to read thru so if u actually go thru the whole thing a) wow thank u so much wtf b) perhaps give it a like so i know how u feel. not required but very very appreciated. :^) also deep apology to anyone for whom the read more breaks or something, oh god.

a tl;dr/basic overview

everyone can shift to humanoid/gijinka/person-shaped forms, differing based on their actual look as a dragon

most day-to-day life within the clan is in shifted forms, partly bc of Convenience, partly bc there’s a lot of Social Rules abt being on relatively equal footing w/ one another and keeping things fair and whatnot

using your dragon form to hurt not-dragon form people or even using it to harm smaller dragons is considered a terrible crime, and harming others while they’re mid-transformation is considered the ultimate taboo.

shifting 101:

everybody can shift between dragon/humanoid (gijinka.. however u wanna word this.... yall know what i Mean) form w/ different results--some more dragon-looking and/or generally monstrous, some looking fairly normal/basically like People, But In Rainbow Colors And With Horns. some may keep tails and/or wings or other things like that, but that isn’t especially common

smaller breeds tend to be shorter, bigger breeds tend to be taller, but there are exceptions & outliers!

shifted forms tend to be pretty 'set' for most dragons, all obviously dependent on their looks as an actual dragon. their shifted form reflects their dragon form, and they can't make drastic changes to their form like changing entire facial structure/shape or body type or overall coloring. however, dragons with stronger magic abilities/connections/powers/etc usually tend to have more freedom of their own form and may be able to change certain features at will--not entire faces or body shapes, but things like hair, nails, sometimes even patterns from genes (esp. tert genes)

dragons that are like, deity level or otherwise some sort of not-entirely/not-actually-a-dragon all-powerful creature or w/e usually have MUCH more freedom to change their form completely, if they so choose.

transformation is at will (and cant be done or undone unconsciously... ie a sleeping-in-shifted-form person is Not gonna turn back into dragon form in their sleep) and happens fairly quick for most, usually no long&slow weird animorph-esque thing, though it isn't all in a flash either--usually! once again on the "dragons with More/Better Magic Skillz" concept, a very magic-powerful dragon can usually shift much quicker than others. a "finger snap puff of smoke boom you're done" level of speed is Very Rare, but not unheard of. dragons who are either very young or simply not very talented w/ magic may take longer than others. the largest & smallest breeds also take a bit longer due to having to shrink down/size up every time. all this said, it never takes more than like, 15-20 seconds at Most, and even that range is considered Very Slow. it’s a short window, generally!

things like injury or sickness can make shifting difficult, but typically only like........... basically if you're literally dying you're probably not gonna be able to do it. having a broken leg or the flu shouldn't impact ability much, but bleeding out in the boneyard? ain't gonna make it work, buddy.

idk how clothes work lmfao. they just shift with the dragon i guess? sure. let's go with that. all clothes are magic now. i don't think EVERYTHING through, ok?

ok cool but Why Shift:

shifted forms make for much easier living-together-in-a-big-clan, especially in situations (like my own clan itself) where everyone lives in, y'know, buildings. houses and castles and churches and whatnot. it takes a lot more effort and resources and whatnot to build a house big enough for imperials to comfortably live in in dragon form than it does to just build a regular-sized house that a spiral & a ridgeback both can settle into & live comfortably in in shifted form or smth, yknow. it’s easier to accommodate people than dragons!

communication & relationships can also be easier to deal with if you are all Relatively Close to the same size range. less leaning down or flying up to try and talk to your friend/coworker/partner/rival/whatever. part of this is also influenced by The Rules About Being On An Even Playing Field We Will Get To In A Moment

for many dragons its just easier to do things like art, music, crafting, writing, or working w/ small & delicate things, etc etc when you have proper hands and lot funky dragon claws. much of the more mundane reasons for these forms is just For Convenience's Sake!

that said, obvs. certain things are easier/preferred to stay in dragon form to do--traveling, for one, since, y'know, Dragons Can Fly, Usually. hunting & gathering is usually done in dragon form as well, though not 100% of the time. maybe u want to be a big and powerful dragon to go take down wild animals for food but just like, chill out w ur buds in person-shape to go have a relaxing fishing trip by the lake. it's up 2 u really.

sometimes dragon forms are preferred for fighting in general, esp against beasts, or if you are a lone dragon trying to protect yourself from threats, etc. in the case of smaller breeds especially, they can also be preferred for making a quick escape instead! (sometimes this is seen as Cowardly to do, but yknow, it’s an Option.)

aaaaaaand now we can get to The Rules which is where things become less abt convenience & common sense and more about my own........... we can call it lore? i guess? sure. it's lore. ok.

The Rules:

all the "for convenience" reasons aside, there are many largely unspoken but VERY important social rules regarding shifting and when you "should" or "should not" be in which form. within my clan/characters/headspace/etc etc it's all just sort of a known thing/smth ur raised knowing, there isn't like, an actual rulebook or smth anyone has to figure out.

much of these rules are about being on an equal playing field, both socially & in battle. the social rules are much more important & strict within clan living areas, ie. the walls of cities and whatnot. things can get more loose & informal if ur like, out travelling thru the wasteland or wilds or whatever.

it's considered VERY rude to enter/generally be inside buildings in dragon form, usually, unless you're just like... popping in real quick to deliver smth or say hi or whatever.. and you can fit inside said building... and know the ppl there and whatnot... etc...... if you dragon out while already inside somewhere that's usually seen as like, a threat of some sort. due to how much construction & architecture & living spaces are shaped and whatnot, it's deemed unnecessary to bother with dragon forms inside the clan's walls in general, but especially within buildings, bc jesus christ dude ur gonna hit the ceiling or break stuff with your wings or something. be polite.

social interaction in general, esp. when Formal or in work/work-like settings, is seen as something usually meant more for shifted forms... some dragons who are very close, ie family & mates, can be fine in dragon form around each other, bc of the mix of informality & Trust. typically, if you want to have a conversation with someone and Not be seen as impolite or even hostile, shifted form is key. this falls back very much to the fact that dragons come in such VASTLY different sizes, from imps down to faes, and it's seen as unfair and often threatening to present oneself as a giant monster to whom others have to talk to, or as a tiny little creature either down on the floor or flitting around the room. shifted forms have about as much height/size variance as we do as humans, which can be A Lot, and some individuals can be even smaller or bigger than regular people bc Hey Its Fantasy, but generally speaking no People-Shaped height difference is going to be as crazy as dragons' can be.

basically, if you walk into the throne room or the church or anywhere Important & Protected and you're not in shifted form, you WILL be seen as either physically threatening the leadership or as an extremely arrogant & disrespectful fool. walking into shops/businesses in general as a dragon makes you look like you're trying to like, rob the place or smth. even just moving about the streets of the town as a dragon is weird, rude, and will make people uneasy. not to mention it’s potentially destructive!

everything comes back to the idea of being relatively similar in size/shape, in being close enough to equal in ability, strength, weakness, etc, barring the obvious difference that yes some people are stronger/more trained than others, some better at magic, etc etc. it's all about fairness!

this is all MOST IMPORTANT when it comes to FIGHTING........ bc obviously a very large dragon can just squish the bones of a very tiny dragon like nothing...... things like formal duels etc everyone knows OF COURSE this meant for shifted form, it's just an inherently known thing. if u fight with honor u fight shifted.

this even extends to the point that outside city walls, if someone's going to pick a fight with you, you Should still be duking it out in shifted form. it's such an important & revered rule that it's even usual for bandits and such out on the roads to attack travelers while in their own shifted forms. only the worst of all criminals cross the line--from the average petty thief & pickpocket up to professional hitmen and honorable assassins, it's rare to see even career rulebreakers break these rules. it’s That Serious

using your dragon form to attack someone who's shifted is seen as like, a completely horrifying and heinous thing to do, a sign of true cruelty and mercilessness. using your dragon form to escape from people is often seen as a cowardly and weak thing to do, unless ofc ur just like, small and afraid and get fuckin jumped by some big tuff dudes, yknow. being in a real & honorable battle means fighting in your shifted form.

the Ultimate Taboo however is hurting--especially killing--someone while they're mid-transformation, due to the fact that the process--while, as stated previously, is Very Short--leaves someone completely vulnerable and unable to defend themselves. transformation takes focus and action, and you can't really attack or dodge or anything while changing from form to form. the strength and speed and complete lack of hesitation required to end someone's life in the small window of time that it takes to shift is a terrifying thing to behold. killing someone midshift while in your own shifted form is especially weird & scary and means everyone is going to be afraid of you forever, basically, because. dude. holy fuck. how & WHY did you do that.

obviously the Normal reaction that Nice & Good dragons feel knowing someone who has crossed that particular line is, yknow, fear and resentment and seeing them as someone who is heartless and completely evil and terrible. to be avoided at all costs, if not outright arrested and executed for such a thing, in other places where ppl are like. ultimately good & caring abt one another and whatnot. but that ain't my clan babey!

aaaaaand finally a wrap-up w a lil bit abt my clan full of shitty devil babies and how these rules impact their lives hehehe

though the clan is VERY strict abt the larger social rules regarding shifted forms vs. dragon forms, thats more for formality's sake & a part of the clan's entire thing of being like........... full of/ruled by morally bankrupt weirdos and villains and chaotic neutrals mostly And Yet all putting on the show & appearance of being honorable high-status nobles & academics and whatnot. among the court in particular it's all Very Important bc everyone has to behave like stuffy uptight formal folk very often. also their section of the clan home is like, a very compact city w/ narrow streets and stuff, so obviously no one Can just. walk around as a big giant dragon.

a few examples of dragons Breaking The Rules in more 'minor' ways include: -outlaw, who has absolutely 0 issue using the small size of his spiral form to break into houses & businesses and steal shit, or using it to slip away from authority figures and zip off and fly outta there. or to just be able to hide from authorities more easily. -fissure, one of the kings, a guardian, will occasionally use his dragon form as a threat display if anyone shows too much hostility towards his clan. threaten him and his people and he WILL threaten you back big time. -silhouette, royal guard captain, also a guardian, will do the same thing, though she reserves that for people found along the outskirts of the city walls. -sepulcher takes things the other way around--he enjoys the challenge of fighting&killing things 100x his size and if a dragon tries to harm him when he's in his shifted form he gets VERY excited!!!!!

the 2 worst culprits confirmed so far are the high priest, leader of the clan, scary rotten plague cult wyrmwound-worshipping bastard himself, fhtagn......... and the friendly, chatty, fashionable tailor, needle.

the skull mask fhtagn wears is fashioned from the skull of a half-transformed dragon. to have not only crossed the line of killing a dragon mid-shift but to wear a part of them as one's most striking attire that they're never seen without is a truly terrifying sight to behold for most... those of kinder hearts than this clan would see him for the disgusting & dishonorable bastard he is because of that alone, but the clan members--especially the church, of course--revere him for this. fear & horror go hand in hand with love & adoration among the congregation, so of course they love their mercilessly masked priest.

needle does not allow too many people to get a good look at his "trophy room" but it is... certainly something to behold. stitched & stuffed bodies of people killed mid-shift make up his favorite taxidermy collection, and he likes to think of this as.. some form of art. though very private about it, he's still fiercely proud of his collection. go out and bring him such a body yourself for him to work on and he'll love you forever!

anyway that’s it for now. this post is fucking long. i never write this much what fucking possessed me.

if u made it this far i wuv u. thank u :’)

#cool lore tag #i uhhhh dont rly................... want to put this in main tags i dont think haha its a Lot of Words #i never type words in ways that rly make sense to begin w but any excess of typos/grammar errors etc u can blame on #the fever ive had all morning hehehehe #also i typed all this out and then didnt really do any like. editing/correction LOL OOPS #ANYWAY HERE'S ALL THIS. I REALLY REALLY REALLY HOPE IT MAKES SENSE HAHAHAHA #long post

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calleo-bricriu · 5 years

Text

Sometimes I start to think I might read a little too much.

So, I found this particular Muggle author in one of those, "It looked weird on the shelf and why not?" sort of ways that I often find books in Muggle shops.

Did a little bit of digging in to the author, William Lee Howard; apparently he was a fairly widely disrespected doctor that most other doctors viewed as a joke but that people who were not doctors thought was somehow brilliant.

Off to a good start.

The majority of the guy's books have to do with--not so much medical things but more, "Why everything is your wife's fault, trust me, I'm a doctor,” and by occasionally shouting in text about how he’s not a quack.

There were also two aimed at teenagers and I found a few chapter names completely self aware in one of them:

"Self-Abuse--How to Stop it--The Quacks" - Written as though he wasn't one.

"Environments and Diseases Which Rust Brain-Tools" - I'm going to start using Brain-Tools, I don't care that it's ridiculous. I like it because it's ridiculous.

Anyway, onto the book I'm mostly through.

It's the only one he published that wasn't--well, probably wasn't--intended to be some kind of medical book and it's the first one he had published.

No, it’s a story. A rambling, poorly written story.

The Perverts, 1901.

It's a bit difficult to read, not because it's as shocking as claimed but, because this guy just...rambles in a horribly disjointed manner that makes it difficult to follow what the hell is going on in his little story.

But, fine, I've read worse, just needs more focus; about halfway through, I stopped because it struck me that I've read this before.

Not this book specifically, the story, the entire plot, only the version I've read, while still written by a prose-y, rambling whackjob, was coherent and had much better flow to it.

Also, you could pretty easily follow the plot, as flimsy as it was.

In fairness, that one also probably could have been accurately titled The Perverts but there's always been a lot of unnecessary filler and prose in de Sade's writing (and he was at least self aware to the point that the last page of one of them essentially invites you to throw the book into the fire if you found reading it unenjoyable; tempting, but it's a heavy book and makes a good paperweight).

This man clearly read Justine (or The Misfortunes of Virtue) at some point; some similarities between bizarre things like that are bound to happen, pun intended given the topic, but this? This was very close to being the exact same book, just with renamed characters and a different time period setting.

de Sade wrote his in two weeks while in prison (and it shows) and this idiot somehow made it worse in terms of readability.

Oh, and the dedication? "To the memory of Edgar Allan Poe as a tribute to his genius, and in recognition of his struggles with a psychic incubus."

Okay.

I'm most amused by the fact that his last book was a book on "how to live long" and he died before he was 60. Must not be very good advice in that book.

And then I started skimming his other books and this has got to be one of the most unintentionally funny things I've read in awhile, "It has been my fortune――for so I consider it――to have been brought into intimate relations with men who are failures."

Good way to start.

"Many of these despondent and useless men have been guided into places where they fit." He's stopped using his brain-tools and it's not even chapter 8, which is where he talks about not letting your brain-tools get rusty.

(( Just a warning, there’s a short excerpt from the book that has some very literally, direct, and violent homophobia in there. ))

"teachers forced much useful and also useless stuff into unwilling brain cells" - I'm not entirely sure a man who blatantly ripped off one of de Sade's shortest works should be speaking poorly of teachers.

"How frequently have I heard the remark, after explaining to a young man who came to me a complete failure: “Why didn’t my father see all this?”" - You know, at this point, I'm almost certain that the only patients he'd ever seen were ones he made up or, more likely, ripped off from other case files and just changed the names.

"THE OUTSIDE LUNGS――THE SKIN" ...no.

He seems to think the skin does the same thing as the liver? What in the hell kind of medical school did this man attend?

"If a healthy boy should have his body――up to his neck――wrapped in tin foil, or any similar substance which would completely close the pores of the skin, he would soon have headache. This would become very severe, followed by loss of consciousness and finally convulsions――fits followed by death. Now this would occur even if he were in the open air. You can see by this fact that the lungs cannot alone cast off the poisons in the body" - First, weirdly specific scenario. Second, what he's describing is heat stroke not poisoning.

If people were listening to ridiculousness like this and taking it as valid health advice, no wonder so many died before they hit 30. I just went through an entire chapter of this idiot explaining how the skin is the body's main detox organ with only passing mention to things like, you know, your liver and kidneys, and that everything is caused by your dumb ass poisoning yourself by not bathing three times a day, constantly drinking water, then "exercising violently".

"Now it may sound funny to you, but the truth is, that if the boys in the past had really known as much as the chipmunks, we should have very few asylums for the insane or hospitals for the horrible diseases." - At this point I'm starting to wonder if I'm actually reading this or if I'm hallucinating it.

"About fourteen years of age you may feel a gradual soreness in the nipples. This will increase and sometimes be a little annoying. Now don’t become frightened and try to recall some blow you have received there." - This feels like a very, very specific panic that I'm pretty sure only happened to the author.

"Of course the HABIT of self-abuse means ruin to both brain and body. It is degrading to your true self, causes a loss of self-respect and makes a coward of every boy and man." - I get the feeling, by this point, that everything this person writes is just projecting.

"[...] bubbling spring of manly life." No.

"So never sleep with a man, except your father." - How is that less weird?

And we go from, go ahead and sleep with your dad to, "If you should be so situated that you find yourself in bed with a man, keep awake with your eyes on something you can hit him with. At the slightest word or act out of the way, HIT him; hit him so hard that he will carry the scar for life."

Just sleep on the floor if you're that damn paranoid.

"Keep your goat by and in you always." ...what? There are no circumstances whatsoever that would result in me wanting any part of a goat in me.

"CHAPTER VIII ENVIRONMENTS AND DISEASES WHICH RUST BRAIN-TOOLS" - I'm definitely stealing brain-tools. Based on everything else, I'm pretty sure mine are considered rusty somehow.

I don't think I'd take advice about brain-tools from someone who spent entire paragraphs talking about how he thinks people who live in far Northern climates hibernate.

What else have we got here? Dance hall women will ruin your life, you might be a man but you'll be a MAN in big letters if you go into the navy somehow, the navy should be bigger so it can consume more lower case men--I guess that makes sense as this was written in 1911.

"Don’t think that you know more than your mother about what is best for you. You don’t." - Wow, okay.

"I saw the girl, or rather woman, when she was twenty-four years of age, and recognized her by the peculiar conformation of her face. It was the face of a girl giggler. Her facial muscles had become so developed by her uncontrolled girlish habit that nothing could be done for her. " - What on earth is the "face of a giggler"?

"Don’t kiss anyone but your mother and father." - ???

"Don’t use arsenic in any form for your complexion or to give your face a plump appearance. Some of you will tell me of a girl you know who has a nice plump face from the use of arsenic wafers." - Maybe don't eat rat poison. Eating rat poison seems like a bad idea just in general.

Apart from don't giggle, don't kiss anyone, and don't take arsenic what is wrong with you? The entire book aimed at women seems to be a lot of, "For the love of everything don't touch ANYTHING without wearing gloves and also maybe burn your gloves every night and just use new ones the next day, the world is made of filth and full of diseased people. Try to stay outside in the sun without touching anything instead."

Interesting to read in the context of not having vaccinations available for all of the diseases mentioned; I don't know why it bothers me to see tuberculosis written as consumption though but I DO know why it bothers me that this idiot keeps saying sunlight will cure all of those diseases.

It really won't, you'll just die in a brightly lit room instead of a dark one.

"Don’t try to keep awake either by mental effort or that injurious resort of drinking coffee." - Well, I've been failing at that since I was about 15.

"Sleep always alone. Sleeping with another person is unsanitary." - ...uh huh.

"The hair should be washed frequently in water with a little powdered borax, but remember you wash the hair only to clean the scalp, nothing should be applied to the hair directly." - Borax is corrosive, and how in the hell do you clean your scalp without also getting something on your hair, you can't just remove your hair and put it back later.

"Cold baths will keep your flesh firm and hard; will take off fat if you are too fat, and put on flesh if you are too lean." - Cold baths just sound unpleasant. There was also this whole section where he talked about how women specifically sweat fat out through their hands. I don’t have much for formal medical training but I’m confident that that’s not a thing that happens.

Speaking of, I particularly like that, in the book aimed at women, he's very adamant about daily bathing and in the book aimed at men it's more, "Eh, once per week is probably fine."

"EAT PICKLES AND CANDY IF YOU CRAVE THEM." - Unnecessarily aggressive sounding there, "Doctor". All I can picture is this quack screaming that in someone's face.

I guess it's kind of good to know that I have more extensive and accurate medical knowledge than someone who somehow got through school and earned the title of Doctor.

Oh, and I'm most amused by the fact that his last book was a book on "how to live long" and he died before he was 60. Must not be very good advice in that book.

Kind of want to read that one next.

#antiques #old books #bad advice #homophobia cw #it's kind of amazing anyone survived at all #so my assumption is nobody listened to weirdos like this #sinday

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