#which is to say nothing of their differences in formal education

[swordsmans]

i just really, really love the idea of zoro having no real "survival skills" because he had a much more traditional (if atypical) childhood/youth than most of the crew. bandit heritage aside, he was raised in a tight-knit and relatively peaceful community with (at best) agricultural outskirts. he doesn't leave until he's much older, at which point he becomes a bounty hunter as a way to make money (to pay for food, shelter, etc. presumably in villages, towns, and cities). we know from the non-canon johnny and yosaku backstories that he "hunted" for bounties in cities/towns, at least partially.

meanwhile luffy has been running around the wilderness since he was like seven years old, securing his own food, building fire and shelter, and just generally toughening up/learning how to live in nature. we know he had a pretty extensive knowledge of bugs and how to catch them, so with that + his childhood i don't think it's a stretch to assume he also has an understanding of edible plants and non-monstrous wildlife (even if its not all applicable outside the East Blue). he's survived on his own in the wilderness for years at a time at least twice in canon.

i think it's fun to think of them having... some sort of "zoro is lost in more ways than one" kinda vibe early on in their journey, especially since they're constantly broke pre-timeskip and we know that at least by little garden the crew has started hunting and foraging to supplement their stores. you could absolutely rope the rest of the east blue grew into this, but zoro is still sort of the outlier with his background.

i dunno. maybe i just like the image of luffy trying to teach zoro how to hunt or fish and both of them just having the dumbest time with it. luffy would be really earnest but impatient--and zoro would be stubborn about admitting he doesn't know shit but would still listen and absorb anyway.

luffy having no clue how to start small and work up to new skills, so they end up going after massive wild boars or something as a first or second lesson and zoro just rolls with it because sure, yeah, thats normal. what the hell does he know? (and also hes fucking. zoro. so.)

or luffy teaching zoro to fish normally but also like a bear fishes (standing knee-deep in the water and catching fish with his bare hands) because it looks more fun that way and he cant. and zoro just fucking up soooo bad but getting really competitive anyway, even though luffy is just, like, sitting on a nearby rock yelling (frankly terrible) directions at him or something. zoro catches nothing and luffy tells him he looks stupid getting angry at the river so of course zoro is going to master fucking. bare-handed fishing because the man's got one braincell and its 99% stubborn pride.

he fucking sucks at starting a fire, wouldnt even consider building proper shelter, and in general would not make it 0.2 seconds outside a populated environment without his captain--a guy raised by the jungle and ace, who was basically a wild animal himself.

idk. survival-competent luffy is very near and dear to my heart.

#not really a country/city dynamic because its like... not that. but luffy is basically the east blue les stroud and thats so funny to me #a bear grylls kinda guy #which is to say nothing of their differences in formal education #dunno if ill write another fic about it but its like... the other side of math/bilingual zoro headcanons to me #i think about this more often than i should tbh #zolu #gyro.txt

[fairuzfan]

One thing I've learned as I've progressed in my archival studies is that there is evidence for everything. There are records for everything.

The things Palestinians have been documenting—even Israelis themselves documenting both within their "civilian" population and their governmental records—portray a concentrated effort to erase every trace of the Palestinian people. This (October of 2023) is no different—there are probably internal documents specifying how to communicate to the press while explicitly dehumanizing the Palestinians. Internal documents that detail best mutilation practices to inflict of the people of Gaza to break their will to live.

For supporters of Israel: nothing you see is uncalculated. Recognize that. Palestinians have grown up for 75+ years KNOWING that propaganda is so easily disseminated. Palestinians who received no formal education (which is not to say such a thing is necessary—this just speaks to the innate knowledge of the Palestinian people) understand the way in which the machine of imperialism works in an intimate and personal manner. So I'd like to invite you to consider: who is proclaiming support and for whom? What would they gain? Why is the United States, a well documented imperial core of the modern war, so vehemently supportive of Israel? Why would they do such a thing given their extensive history of "US first" within their policy decisions?

Why would the British government—the source of many colonial struggles—wish to support a regime with already one of the strongest, most powerful armies in the world? Why does the Israeli government need aid when they claim to be so well off compared to their Arab neighbors?

Propaganda is something so embedded in the everyday life of Europeans and USAmericans that they (primarily white individuals) often do not think to examine the core logic of the way their government works. To reiterate: nothing is accidental and everything is calculated. There ARE records for these events and tactics—they just won't release them yet.

It is imperative that you understand the political implications of how this will affect the United States and why they have a vested interest in such matters, considering their historic distance from other atrocities unless personal involvement occurred.

#palestine #propaganda is not just about words it is about the core systems of our governments #israel

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Spies and Secrets

Summary: Natasha has never met her handler, she couldn’t give you their name or identify their face because she doesn’t know it. When she rants about this to you, her wife, you have to laugh... because you are her handler.

Word Count: 2048

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, lying in the relationship (not in a bad way, just in a spy way), but otherwise it’s just fluff!

A/N: I went back and wrote this idea since it seemed semi-popular. Hope you enjoy :)

»»————-　★　————-««

"Will you finally tell me who they are?"

"This again, Romanoff?"

"Just a first name?"

Fury sighs to make his vexation clear, but that's not enough to dissuade Natasha; she remains determined as ever in her mission and smirks boldly in the face of her exasperated boss.

"Just an initial will get me off your back," the spy continues through his silence.

Fury scoffs and Natasha knows she needs a different approach.

"If it's you, you can just say, Sir."

"Me? You must be losing your touch if you think I have the time for that, Romanoff. Should Hill be taking your next mission?"

Natasha stops and stares with faux hurt while Fury continues on, grinning to his own amusement. He wasn't going to let her keep the upper hand for long.

"If you want to know, ask them yourself!" Fury calls over his shoulder, "Mission debrief. C12-2. 10 minutes. They won't tell you though; above your clearance!"

Natasha groans. As much as she hadn't expected a substantial answer from Fury – she'd been asking him the same question for years – she thought she might be getting somewhere, but no matter which trick she tries, Fury doesn't budge.

On top of that, he'd reminded her that it wasn't home time yet, her mission isn't over until she's briefed her mysterious handler. So Natasha sighs and makes her way to the conference room, still wondering why only her handler chose to shroud themself in mystery. All the other agents meet theirs directly, while Natasha sits in a room alone, waiting for a shadowy silhouette to call in.

The first few years went by without a comment – it wasn't her place to ask – but as she rose the ranks and found her role, her handler, too, remained just above her clearance. Even now, as one of the highest ranking agents, her handler was higher still. Curiosity built like a dripping tap; manageable and menial to start, only to provoke greater displeasure the longer it went on.

"Hi Agent!" the disembodied voice crackles through the speakers. That's the other thing driving Natasha towards irritation, her handler's tone. It's nothing like Fury's commanding orations. No, her handler speaks with an eagerness and informality reminiscent of a junior agent meeting their hero, rather than the commanding officer that they are, and have been, since Natasha first joined SHIELD almost a decade ago.

"Officer." Natasha replies. She had never been told her handler's surname, or even a title she could use to address them. Any attempts she made to learn had been properly shut down, forcing her to stick with the appellation of Case Officer.

"Always so formal," her handler laughs. "As far as I'm aware, the mission was successful, so what's got you so grumpy today?" they continue, noticing an uncharacteristic clarity to Natasha's mood that day.

"If you told me your name, I wouldn't have to be so formal, would I?" the spy snaps back. "And I'm not grumpy."

"Natasha, we've worked together for nearly 10 years now. I know when you're grumpy, and I can throw in an educated guess that my identity is the cause?"

"I've spent my life working in secret," Natasha shrugs, then pauses in search of the right words. "I'm well accustomed to dubious legalities and taking orders from the shadows. I'm also well aware that I would be a risk to security from the moment I joined until I gained the trust of this organisation, so I understood your secrecy."

Natasha stops again, noticing the silhouette begin to fidget; whether out of boredom or discomfort, the assassin can tell the time is right to make her final argument.

"We've worked together on hundreds of missions over this past decade, enough for you to know every detail of my life and mind, while I still know nothing about you. Have you thought about how that might hurt, officer? because it does! to believe I still haven't gained your trust after all this time. That hurts."

The room stills to a silence as fragile as Natasha felt. Her handler's reaction would dictate the situation; any information given could redefine the relationship between the two spies, just as another brush off would leave Natasha spiralling further into this curiosity.

A sigh finally echoes through the speakers; its long pause circling the sole inhabitant of the room. "It's above your clearance," the voice admits. Natasha slumps; she should have known better. "But-" The speed at which Natasha perks up draws out a small chuckle from her handler, before they continue with an audible smile, "I'll talk to Fury. See what I can reveal."

Natasha settles in her seat, unable to keep the broad smile from her face. "I do trust you, Romanoff, I hope you know that… I just don't think I'll be who you expect."

As a trained spy, Natasha wouldn't let that last line slide, immediately thinking of its hidden meaning. But before she can ask further questions, her handler clears their throat. "I think it's time we actually start the mission debrief."

»»————-　★　————-««

Natasha can't wait for the meeting to end. She understands the need – giving her side of the story, answering questions, sharing the intelligence she'd gained – but it drags on without incident and without any further comments on her handler's identity, so she'd much rather be at home. 

What reason was there for her not to do this from home? Her handler calls in from wherever they are, so realistically, Natasha could also pick up from wherever she is. Ideally at home, after a relaxing shower and a little time with her wife. Natasha supposes that's where the issue may lie: you, her wife, who has been led to believe Natasha is a security guard and nothing more. If you overheard a debrief, not only would SHIELD's confidentiality be compromised, but you might never forgive her lies. Natasha's home office was soundproofed though and, because of that, the assassin would take the risk if it means extra time with you.

Throughout Natasha's homeward journey and all through the mission debrief, you are the only thing to occupy her mind. Her mission finished in late afternoon, so she had planned how she would surprise you and spend the evening together upon her return, but then the debrief cropped up, and by the time her key is in the door, the sun has long since set, leaving her to wonder if you're even still awake.

You are. Just about. Your pyjama clad figure appears in Natasha's sight and you rush down the stairs to meet her by the door.

"You're home!" You beam as you wrap your arms over her shoulders and take her cue for a kiss.

"I am."

"How was your mission?" you tease. You know how seriously she takes each assignment, always doing prep work in her office ahead of the trips; she treated them akin to a secret mission and you never missed your chance to rag her for it. 

One of your favourite methods of teasing is to liken her to James Bond, which only gets more realistic when you catch her mouthing along to the movie lines.

"Top secret. Can't tell you," your wife jokes back, her smile threatening to burst off her face.

"No injuries this time?"

"None at all."

"Good girl." She preens. "Have you had dinner?"

"Not yet, I came home as soon as I was done. Couldn't wait to see you."

"Sweet talker," you laugh and kiss her again, then take her by the hand, "I put some leftovers in the fridge, you clean up, then you can eat and share your 'top secret' thoughts."

The evening's plan formed just like that; you reheat the noodle dish while Natasha takes a shower, before the two of you come back together to sit at the dinner table.

"So, how was it really?" you ask her.

"The job itself was alright, no problem." Natasha replies, but by the way she's stabbing the noodles with her fork, you can tell something else is coming. "But my bosses…they just won't tell me all the information. Say it's 'above my clearance'."

"The cheek of them."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, I'm not! I promise, love," you say, though you can't hide your barely contained laughter thanks to the prominent pout on your wife's face. You school your face back into an expression of neutrality before you talk again, "that sounds annoying. Do you need this information?"

"No," she sighs, "it's just a matter of trust."

"Well, you must be working with idiots for them not to trust you after all this time."

"Mm, you reckon I should tell that to them?"

"You definitely should."

The smile comes back to Natasha's face as she shakes her head, "you're going to get me fired, sweetheart."

"You're too good for them to do that. Just keep it up, you're going to be leading them one day, I'm sure of it. Then all the secrets are yours."

»»————-　★　————-««

Another week, another mission. And with another mission comes another mission debrief. Natasha asked for her handler's identity three weeks ago and still knows nothing more. With how poorly her recent mission went, she doesn't even feel like asking the question again.

"What went wrong, Romanoff?" that same anonymous figure asks her, and Natasha can only groan: what didn't go wrong?

"We were ambushed to start with; whoever gave us the heads up got their information wrong, or someone sold us out. Either way, the plan went to shit the moment we arrived and the team went to shit by throwing mole accusations around. Splitting up only made it worse; nobody trusted their teammates to do their parts and it resulted in a mad scramble. My orders were ignored, but my team members were injured and I take full responsibility."

"That won't be necessary, Agent," the voice hums, "as leader, the responsibility falls on you, yes, but it is each agent's responsibility to trust in you and follow your plan, and you will not be faulted for working with idiots who don't trust you."

Natasha starts to defend her team, before the familiarity of the phrase has her searching through her mind for a recollection. What she does remember is a long shot, but she'll lose nothing by asking.

"Do you have a wife, Officer?"

"I do," they reply.

"Is she a redhead?"

"She is."

"Works for SHIELD?"

"Why, it's almost like you know her," the handler goades. If one had an illustrated list of all of SHIELD's employees, they would know that the short game of 'guess who' still left a couple dozen potential employees in the running, but the teasing and testing tone is the final clue Natasha needs to make her assumption.

"Y/N/N?"

"Hey love," you reply, with as much adoration as you can muster, glad to finally be rid of the voice modulator while you talked to your wife.

In front of Natasha, the screen flickers before the silhouette that had become so familiar to her is replaced by another familiar sight in another familiar location: the smiling face of her wife…in her office.

Natasha's face falls at once, striking you with panic that this wouldn't be the gleeful revelation that you'd expected; that is, until the assassin speaks again. "Is that my desk?"

"It's your whole office, my love. I'm not taking these calls from our bedroom."

"Is that why it's sound proofed?"

"I gave the approval for that, if you remember, and it's certainly not because you're taking SHIELD calls at home; you haven't even had one while we've lived together!"

"That's because you organise it straight after the mission so I don't have time to go home!"

"Because that's where I am! you'd be suspicious otherwise."

Natasha falls silent for a moment. You know her well enough to leave her to her thoughts, only twiddling your thumbs as you watch her through the screen.

"So can I do debriefs at home now?"

"I don't see why not," you shrug, "remember I still have to take notes though, so I get the desk and no cuddling until after."

"No chance of that."

"Come back now, Romanoff, and we can put it to the test," you challenge.

She accepts. "I'll be there in 30."

"I know."

»»————-　★　————-««

Tagging: @supercorpdanbeau (since you mentioned you’d like to read it on the original post!)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x you #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #ikan writes

[howlingday]

How bad is the fact Jaune faked his transcipts? Like some people think he's evil for it and others think it doesn't matter. So what you think? I'm of his friends would not care and only Weiss would get on his case would but stay quiet if only for Blake.

This is an interesting question since it's kind of hard for me to stand firm on one side or the other on this.

On the one hand, it's bad because it's essentially the same as joining the military and lying in order to get yourself in. I say this is bad because 1) my own personal history with the military and 2) how really screwed up this really is when you think about it. Jaune snuck his way into Beacon, basically a para-military college, with no prior training, no formal education, and just a gung-ho spirit to prove himself. I'm sure if he applied himself formally, he could have been accepted by some measure, even if it were only for a reservist position. His missing background means he has nothing to prove that he's capable enough to protect himself, his teammates, or the civilians that he, as a huntsman, is responsible for. In short; Jaune lied to get into the military, which is a crime.

But then there's the other way to look at this. Jaune joined Beacon to prove himself, which can be seen as two ways, either A) like Steve Rogers, he had noble intentions of helping people in a way that truly mattered at the time, or B) like Izuku Midoriya, Jaune wanted to be like somebody he idolized and do the same as they did to achieve their legendary status, which in this case is becoming a huntsman. Honestly, Jaune did the only thing he knew that would guarantee his achieving of his dream, which was to obtain transcripts (that were forged and faked) and to apply to Beacon. In this instance, you would place the blame less on the soldier who wanted to join (Jaune, Cap, Deku) and more on the one who took his hand and brought him into this world (Ozpin, Erskine, and All Might) as a way to make a difference in both his world and theirs. In short; Jaune is perfect because of his everyman status.

But let's not kid ourselves here. The people who cry that Jaune getting into Beacon as a way of showing how "unfair " and "gary stu" Jaune is are the same people who call him a self-insert and scream that he's a useless male power fantasy taking screentime from the show.

#rwby #my thoughts #jaune arc #my answer #my answers #my critique

[witchofhimring]

Being Naviers sister-in-law

Parings:

Navier x reader (platonic)

Korsair x reader (minor/in the background)

Warnings: none

-Your marriage to her elder brother would have been arranged from a young age. When you were five you were sent to the Trovi household to be fostered. There you met your future husband. Because Koshair was a young boy he didn't really really have an interest in girls. Especially as all you wanted to do was play with dolls and have tea party. Navier was only three at the time, but became your principal playmate. The two of you developed a sisterly relationship. For Navier you were the sister she never had.

Koshair, with his nose in the air, stomped out of the room with all the muster a boy of six could command. He would absolutely not join your silly tea party. "Hmph. Fine." Y/n huffed. Her attention when back to little Navier. "Tea please." Navier, at four, was already practicing for her rule as an Empress. You gave her a silly, girlish curtsy and poured the tea. The two of you enjoyed the sweets, a weakness for the both of you.

-As the two of you got older the impending doom of marriage (which is what you called it anyway) your lessons became harder. Due to being girls the two of you had lessons together. But as you grew older your separate destinies meant that the two of you needed different tutors. It saddened you but there was nothing to be done about it. In the early says Navier had to constantly remind you to focus in class. And even though it annoyed you she was dearly missed when you were given a new tutor.

-"If Navier has to go then I shall never study again!" These sort of dramatic antics were common place when you were upset. Lady Trovy sighed at her wards huffing and grumbling. "Y/n, you are a lady and it is high time you had your own tutor. At your age the education must be more advanced. "But Navier could keep up." It was true, Navier had more of a knack for studying anyway. "And as Empress her studies differ from yours." Lady Trovi reasoned. With a sigh you sat back. She was right. As nobility you had little say in your future. Navier would go one way, you the other.

-Once Navier has her debut ball her position changes. She is no longer a child and is now ready for marriage. At once she gets more ladies-in-waiting, including you. Formality is more rigid and even as the future sister-in-law to the future Empress you must carry yourself with decorum. You stay with her every step of the way. While the paperwork is beyond your abilities you provided moral support by bringing tea and sweets. You looked after her needs as Navier has a habit of neglecting her health in order to fulfil her duties. This loyalty is not one sided however. When she realized you are at the end of your rope Navier is there. She will have you relax and enjoy some of your favourite things.

-"Y/n, are you well?" Navier was no fool. No matter the makeup you applied, she could tell the pallor of your skin was off. The skin under your eyes is noticeable even from a distance. When you served her tea that morning your hands briefly touched. Navier was therefore alarmed when she felt clamy cold skin brush up against her. "I am fine. Simply slept poorly." "Even so. Sit." Relenting, you slopped down on the chair next to her. Navier placed a few things on your plate before sliding it over to you. "Eat." Navier was suddenly busy grabbing blankets and tea, much to your embarrassment. You tried to stand up but Navier gave you a "don't you dare" look. After a while of relaxation you drifted off to sleep. As quiet as a mouse Navier got up. At that moment Laura entered only for Navier to press a finger to her lips. "Is she asleep?" Asked Laura. "Yes, now, as quiet as mice." And with that they left you to rest.

-When Navier becomes Empress her status might change, but her relationship with you does not. You continue to serve her. With her nuptials past now yours will come soon. Kosair was been far from the capital for years and few letters have been exchanged. In fact, you are terrified. Would he be kind? Would you have to leave Navier? These questions torment you and so Navier consoles you. She is reassuring you that he will be kind. And if he isn't she will do this:

-"I mean it has been so long. And I can not say we hated each other but I never felt close to him." Your fingers nervously clenched at the fabric of the dress. The two of you were taking a leisurely stroll through the gardens. The other ladies had gone to attend their own personal business giving you the opportunity to speak with Navier alone. Navier had linked your arms together. "I mean you had spent years with Sovieshu before marrying him." "The two of you do not need to immediately be husband and wife in that way. Let it take time. I can have Kosair stay here for a while. And when you do leave I will visit. Despite Navier's positivity you were still scared. You took a tremulous breath and tried to keep the tears at bay. "Oh Y/n." Navier took out a lace handkerchief and wiped the tears. You only cried harder as you realized that one day she would not be hear to wipe your tears.

-Your wedding was to take place soon. It had to be pushed back due to Kosair needing to take care of bandits on the border. But then something happened that completely sidelined the marriage. Sovieshu got a mistress. It caused shockwaves throughout the court. While the marriage had been of convenience the two of them had seemed to love each other. During those times you almost exclusively stayed by the Empresses side, drying her tears and providing a helping hand. You did things to take her mind off things like taking her to the market and reading her books. But there was only so much you could do.

-"Now which one do you want?" You lay a pink parcel on the table by Navier's bed. The Empress lay bundled up in the sheets, finally convinced to sleep. While she had always worked hard Navier now seemed intent on working herself to death. The truth was that this was her way of taking her mind off of the situation. "Oh I do not mind." And so you picked out custard tarts, topped with cream and raspberries. Navier took hers and you opened a book. It was a simple story. But during these times that was what you needed.

-Sovieshue does the unthinkable. He divorces the Empress. Immediately your lives are turned on your head. And then it happened yet again as Navier announced she would be marrying Heinly, King of the Western Empire. You were relived that Navier would not have to be known as the discarded Empress, but things were not simple. As your family was of the Eastern Empire you could not just up and leave. You and Navier were briefly separated, only to be reunited shortly before her wedding. As Kosair intended to stay in the Westen Kingdom, now Empire, you were able to remain by Navier's side. You had to go back to the Eastern Empire for the marriage due to the laws. After spending some time with your new husband, you actually grew to quite like him. Love will come later. As for Navier you frequently visit her. Your and Navier will still take long walks and read books together. And as the years go by your children will grow up close, just as the two of you did.

-The sun was beginning to set, casting its shadow over the wedding party. The carriage stood by the entrance, ready to take you away. Your wedding dress suddenly felt too tight. From this day forward you were Y/n Trovi, married. "Y/n." You turned to see Navier. Her green eyes were slightly wet and her smile trembled. The Empress never cried in public. But the past few months had taught her than a little softness every now and then was fine. And for Y/n she would, her dearest friend. You walked up to her friend and brought her into an embrace. The two friends stood there, as if they were the only two people in the world. When they broke apart there were tears rolling down both their cheeks. "Write to me?" "Of course your majesty." Kosair came out of the building. His matching ruby ring glittered in the sunlight. He smiled at you, his new wife. You were not sure what you felt for him yet, but there was a fluttering in your chest every time he looked at you. "Are we ready?" You looked towards Navier. Even though you wanted to stay with her, this new chapter of your life would lead to untold wonders. No matter time and space, you would hold Navier in your heart. You smiled at her one last time and in her heart Navier gave her blessing. "Yes. I'm ready."

#kosair #kosair trovi #kosair x reader #kosair trovi x reader #remarried empress #the remarried empress #the remarried empress x reader #remarried empress x reader #navier trovi x reader #navier x reader #navier trovi #navier

[nicki0kaye]

random kallus hc inspired by someone else's post #3

I think getting him to socialize will be like pulling teeth. It obvs depends on how you interpret his few lines in season 4, but I don't think he was doing the bond villain voice as a joke when he greeted the Spectres. I think he's just like that.

And I think he knows it's off-putting, and is using that as a shield of sorts so he doesn't have to go too far into the unknown after entirely uprooting his life and leaving the Empire.

the explanation I always come back to is 'be what they expect', like that's his strategy within the Rebellion. This is important bc my main hc for Kallus is that everything about his presentation is fake. His accent and cadence was taken from the big bad in a show he liked as a tween. His only formal education is from the Academy, so he lacks a lot of standard knowledge others take for granted. He was an entirely different person before entering the Empire (though it was the Republic at his time of enlistment), and even though he's been in character for the last 20-ish years, there's nothing stopping him from constructing a new one. Nothing but himself and his goals.

Now there's also the comfort aspect. Creating a whole new life is terrifying, and I do think there's a measure of comfort he takes for having 'valid reasons' for not reinventing himself. He's also been shaped by the Empire (and his life before, as a gang lord's son) to expect the worst of people--to make formalities weapons, to always expect the knife in the back, to take any opportunity to tear someone else down so he can rise higher. That's created a paranoid, hyper-alert state re: other people, and the people of the Rebellion have every reason to distrust and ostracize him bc of his past as an ISB officer.

All of this is to say, 'be what they expect' is both a strategy to lessen the friction between him and the Rebellion, and also as a means of protecting his own sense of stability. Changing shit up now could draw unwanted attention, give Rebels cause to distrust his goals and intentions, call into question who he is what he's capable of, and ultimately would be taxing and anxiety inducing for him.

I think he's a proud guy who doesn't do shit in half measures, and that means taking 'failure' very seriously, including social failure. If he's a stuck up asshole ex-Imp, he's not gonna win anyone over, which means he won't feel bad or like he's fucked up if no one likes him much. He's setting himself up for failure as a means of controlling the situation, bc he is very out of his depths and hyper aware of what a mistake could cost.

that isn't to say I don't love hcs where he loosens the sphincter and genuinely tries to socialize and make nice, I fucking adore those, I just think getting him there would be a process. He's a recovering perfectionist, he's gonna need the help.

I also just...look, one of my criteria for imprinting on a character is how likely they are to sit there with a neutral expression while mentally furiously playing 4D chess against themselves and their perceived opponent re: literally any social interaction. I love the mfs who look like they have their shit together but in reality are one misstep away from a meltdown over 'failing' at being a human. It's the autistic people pleaser in me.

and I love the idea of that person being worth saving. That they can bond and find love and friendship and learn to be better at this shit. I like exploring that process, warts and all. I like forcing them to admit they need other people, they want other people, even if it scares them shitless.

There's a song from the musical Company called 'Being Alive' that reminds me a lot of what I feel is the core driving force for Kallus' change. It starts with the character more or less listing all the reasons love sucks, actually, but there's a turn midway where he starts begging for all these little inconveniences because; "Alone is alone, not alive"

And I think Kallus is deeply embarrassed that he feels that way. That for all the perfectly understandable reasons to hate the Empire, he ultimately changed because he was tired of being alone and wanted to be alive. So there's also this layer of penance and self-denial that is informed by his guilt for all he's done, but is ultimately him punishing himself for wanting something so selfish and being so 'weak'.

He hasn't earned friends yet. He doesn't deserve to be loved. He has so much evil to make up for, so much work to do, it'd just be a distraction, and worse a selfish distraction.

And there's reason to consider him an inherently selfish character, I think it should probably be applied to him more, it's a much more realistic take on him, but I personally prefer the obnoxious martyrism of it all. That he's able to flip his morals because they were, ultimately, a put-on anyway. That he is aware of right and wrong and his ability to empathize hasn't withered into nothing after years of violence and cruelty. And even if he can't feel empathy as strongly as he once could, he is at least hyper aware he now runs with a crowd that draws strength from empathy and needs to readjust himself accordingly.

So I guess even if he is still talking and acting like a bond villain, he is tailoring his words and actions to suit the Rebel's sensibilities. And I think he's hyper aware that's a choice--that other people (like Zeb) are just naturally care about the right things and treating others the right way. That he's already deceiving them in a way, which inherently makes him a two-faced liar, and it would just make things messy if he added to that deceit by acting personable and kind and understanding. It's so important the Rebels trust him, so important that they not question his intel and motivations, so it just makes sense that he not push too far and make it obvious he can be anyone. That he could mirror them perfectly, say exactly what they want to hear just how they want to hear it.

No one knows he's a fake person, so he has to keep the mask on. He has to stay in his little ex-imp box and put the real reasons he defected on the back-burner so that this under-funded, over-worked, run-on-shoe-laces-and-hope band of misfits don't die on his watch.

And i really like it when he's proven wrong, and forced to abandon the box and face the horrible ordeal of being known better than he knows himself.

#kallus #nik v sw

[oooocleo]

👀 Hullo there

I just wanted to stop by to- for one- tell you that your art is absolutely beautiful! You have such a fluidity and waterlike quality to all of your drawings, they remind me of single frames from old school Disney, like they should start dancing around my screen at any second.

I was wondering, (I'm sorry if it's annoying, you probably get this kind of question a Lot 😭) how long did it take you to get where you're at? Or- how long did it take you before you were satisfied with your artistic quality? I'm a baby artist (if you could count me as such, I started last week 😭) and I know it's gonna take me probably 5+ years to get where I want, but I can't help the insatiable curiosity

Oke das all thank u I wish u nothing but boundless inspiration and perfect ellipses on the first try

hmmmmm! im in my late twenties now and have been drawing on and off since primary school (tho i had a big gap in middle/high school before picking it up again a few yrs into uni) and can only say that i only got to Some sense of satisfaction a few yrs back, which coincided with going fulltime freelance and Drawing A Ton All The Time because of that (paired w/ the external validation of having folks wanting to pay for my work)

i also became more conscious of what demotivates me when it comes to art, being comparing myself to others mainly, and am now usually able to nip that in the bud before i go into a wild death spiral lol.......... i dont know that ull ever be completely satisfied & thats fine, as long as it doesnt stop u from trying again 🤔

i always say to beginner artists that if u can help it, really try to keep the *process* fun for urself, whatever that looks like - dont think abt how marketable it is or how many likes or whatever u get, bc when ur just starting out that stuff is just going to make u feel bad

when u think about what u want it to look like in the future dont beat urself up if it feels like ur not getting closer - tbh, by the time 5 yrs have passed what u want from ur art might be really different from what ur thinking now & thats All Good Babey

hmm what else... it might be interesting to know that ive never taken any formal art education/classes besides middle sql 'drawing' - i think that shows in certain aspects of my work (perspective LOL) and potentially slowed down my progress but personally when i find artists i Really Like and that stick out to me theyre usually also self taught!!

#cleo talks #storiumemporium #in short.... took me ages but i got somewhere and am having a good time w it currently #and thats what matters!! #i did that with doing comms very young though which... im not sure how possible that is anymore/w how much competition there must be now

[thequeenofthewinter]

All the Magic

A flash fiction prompt I was issued with the topic: "All the magic I have known I have had to make myself."

No warnings and rated G. This is some hurt/comfort (kind of?!), and it involves my OC Dahlia and a bit of her origin story. I sincerely hope you enjoy it if you read it.

Link to AO3

Dahlia sits at the edge of their bed, her fingers playing with a stray strand of thread which came unraveled from an old blanket.

Should she tell him? And if so, how much?

A frown forms on her face, the corners of her lips turning under themselves delicately. Her face had always been able to give her feelings away—both a blessing and a curse if you asked her. 

She sighs as she looks up at Ulfric and contemplates his question. It isn’t that she doesn’t wish to speak with her husband, rather that the topic at hand is something she had stuffed into the furthest corners of her mind, and she doesn’t wish to unearth her pain. Not right now. Not at this moment.

What was your life like before you met me?

A seemingly innocuous question, innocent and not inherently threatening in and of itself; however, it dredges up phantoms she would rather not think of.

And really, what can she tell him? It’s not as if her past life was that interesting nor is he missing out on some big part of it.

Dahlia tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I think I told you that I grew up here--” she pauses and swallows nervously, “—on the other side of the Valunstrad.”

He nods to her, indicating to her that he is listening.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever been there or—”

“I’ve seen it, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Ulfric tells her quietly, a hand finding hers to reassure her.

“I am grateful.” She turns her head slightly, looking away from him. “I had a roof over my head, and the winds didn’t whistle so much through the cracks as in other houses closer to the Snow Quarter, but it—it wasn’t much.

She chews on her lip as if trying to stop herself from saying more, but then adds a bit bitterly, “My father couldn’t afford anything more, and my mother and I did what we could. She took care of the house, and I offered my services as a tutor. I did pretty well for myself with reading and writing.”

“You went to school?” He asks, almost surprised. Of course, he knew that she eventually went to the College of Winterhold, but most of the general population does not have access to a formal education.

“My father was a guard of good standing—at least until he wasn’t, that is. But, he was invited to bring me to some of the lessons for the nobles’ children. I learned there. It was one of the few things that I remember he was able to give to me, despite all the grief he put us through…” 

Her voice trails off, not saying anything more on the subject, and Ulfric looks down at her, his eyes showing sympathy—almost pitying of her.

She refuses to look at him as she laughs humorlessly. “I studied hard. I figured that someday if I did well enough and made my parents proud, I could get a job with a good position. I started singing and between that and being able to read and write, my parents thought I could go to the Bard’s College…but, I had other plans.”

He smiles at her, squeezing her hand. “So rebellious even then.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” She smiles back at him, the barest whisper of it gracing her features. “My parents were furious. As you are aware, magic is not a very well received professional career path in Skyrim, but I took up Restoration anyway. I wanted to help. I wanted to do something. I grew up hearing stories from my father about the Great War, and its consequences.”

She shakes her head. “Little did I know my life would become this.” Dahlia gestures vaguely around her. “Dragonborn this, and destiny that. I was hefted from one destiny-determined situation to another of a very different type. Akatosh’s chosen. More expectations and more responsibilities were thrust upon me, and everyone had their own vision of me. I should act in a certain way and fit into a certain image. So, what did I do? I folded myself into the role of a hero to match what society dictated of me. I bled for it, sweated for it, cried and lost people for it. I made myself smaller and smaller, and I have to admit,” she chances a glance at him, “for a moment I lost myself.” 

One of her fists balls up in quiet rage, the timber of her voice beginning to teeter on shaking.

“Eventually, I did figure it out, and in the moments in-between, what little joy or happiness I had, I had to create for myself because who else was thinking about it? Who else could assure it? I couldn’t ask after others to bring it to me or even so much as follow my own wants or needs because it was selfish.” 

Suddenly, she lets her anger go, and it dissipates like the smoke after a fire long burnt out. Her fist then unfurls itself slowly as she retakes his hand and her eyes finally find his. “All the magic I have known, I have had to make myself.”

The sentence hangs in the air heavily, sinking into Ulfric’s stomach like a momentous bolder, as he looks down at her. His mouth opens as if to say something, but then she surprises him as she beats him to it.

“That is until I met you.”

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #ulfric stormcloak #dahlia wintersnow #ulfric x dragonborn #winter writes

[justforbooks]

The maverick heroics of MI6 agent James Bond may actually be based on the true story of one brave soldier, who took on the Germans and won again and again. In this archive piece, we look back on Patrick Dalzel-Job's stranger-than-fiction life

If the dashing hero of Ian Fleming's best-selling spy thrillers were among us, is it likely he could be found living alone on a far-away hill by the sea in Scotland?

A mildly spoken gentleman who lived to his eighties, then grey and a little stooped—could he have been secret agent 007? Come on.

Ah, but life is stranger than fiction.

Some of those who know best have always believed that Fleming based his superspy on a wartime comrade named Patrick Dalzel-Job—yes, our elderly gentleman who lived his final days in the Highlands.

There were other influences, of course. Bond's love of vodka martinis and handmade cigarettes came, in fact, from Ian Fleming himself; and whereas 007 tumbled into bed with a different beauty every few pages, Patrick Dalzel-Job (pronounced Deal-Jobe), loved only one woman all his life.

But there is something here. Consider:

Job, like Bond, was half Scots, a one-time naval officer, a master of languages who in real life performed precisely the kinds of derring-do Fleming later attributed to his flamboyant make-believe hero.

By the time Dalzel-Job walked into Commander Ian Fleming's Admiralty office one day in 1944 looking for a new assignment, he had already seen service as a seaman, commando, submariner and spy, and had just become probably the first naval officer to qualify for army parachute wings.

Fleming, an ex-journalist who had broadcast his intention of becoming a best-selling author some day, was then building up the clandestine army of naval intelligence officers and Royal Marine commandos which was to move out in front of the assault troops on D-Day and capture secret enemy documents and weapons.

He saw in Patrick's flinty blue eyes the look of a man whose mettle has been tested, and promptly signed him on.

Says veteran BBC broadcaster Charles Wheeler, who served with both: "Who could be surprised if a kind of James Bond seed were planted then and there?"

An unconventional childhood

Patrick Dalzel-Job, born in Twickenham, Middlesex, in 1913, was three years old when his father, an infantry officer, was killed in France. His mother, a small, spirited woman, brought him up alone.

They lived on the Sussex coast, then moved to Berkhamsted in Hertfordshire, where Patrick went to school. But he was a sickly boy, inept at team sports and home with mysterious bouts of fever more often than he was in class.

When he was 14, his mother took him to Switzerland, where the mountain air restored his health and he became an expert skier. He continued to read widely in French and English, but his formal education was over.

Drawn to Norway by stories he'd read as a boy, in 1937—the summer of his twenty-fourth birthday—he set sail from Scotland in a 37-foot schooner, Mary Fortune, whose deck work and interior he had built himself.

With his mother as crew, he spent the next two years exploring a wilderness of fiords and islands from Bergen in the south-west to Nordkapp, on the northernmost coast of Europe.

His mother knew nothing of seamanship, but an ingenious array of ropes, chains and pulleys enabled Patrick to man the rugged little schooner single-handed.

Soon he was speaking Norwegian like a native and making friends up and down the western coast. A deep-rooted love for Norway and its people became a cornerstone of his life.

Falling in love with Norway

Wherever he sailed through the complex of waterways, he drew detailed charts, convinced they would be of use to the Royal Navy if war came. But when he sent them to the Admiralty, they were accepted with indifference.

And three years later, when the Germans invaded Norway and coastal charts of any kind were desperately needed, his could not be found.

Meanwhile Patrick, preparing the Mary Fortune for a voyage north to the Arctic Ocean, decided he needed another hand on board and turned to friends in Tromso, the Bangsunds: might one of their children be interested?

The keenest was 13-year-old Bjørg, with her wide blue eyes and a laugh that was the most beautiful sound Patrick had ever heard.

All through that spring and summer, Bjørg was a valiant and valuable shipmate, cheerfully helping out in the galley and learning how to handle the tiller. Then, in early September, their radio brought news that the war had come.

Mary Fortune headed back to Tromso, where all the Bangsunds came to see off Patrick and his mother, their possessions reduced to what they could carry in two suitcases, on the coastal steamer.

As the ship ploughed through the night towards Britain, Patrick found a scrap of paper from Bjørg under his pillow. "I love you," it said.

The nazis and the Norwegians

In April 1940 Patrick, now an officer in the Royal Navy, was again bound for his beloved Norway.

The Nazis, in a brutal move to assure command of the northern sea lanes, had invaded their neutral neighbour, and an Allied expeditionary force was steaming north in an attempt to dislodge them.

Patrick was assigned the task of disembarking the troops at Harstad, 150 miles north of the Arctic Circle, and conveying them to combat staging areas.

This he did by organising fisherman friends, and their friends, into a flotilla of more than 100 of their boats. The objective was nearby Narvik, an ice-free port seized by the Germans as a base from which to protect their supply of vital iron ore from neutral Sweden.

The Norwegians did as Patrick said because they trusted him and he spoke their language; also because he never hesitated to fire a round from his father's old service revolver across their bows when they forgot this was war and not just another fishing trip.

Wearing an unmarked greatcoat over his sub-lieutenant's insignia and barking orders as if born to command, he even had senior officers calling him "Sir".

The Allies captured Narvik—but held it only briefly. They were too few and had come too late. By the end of May, all but a small force had been withdrawn. No one doubted that Luftwaffe bombers would soon be rumbling across the sky, aiming to drive off the rest.

A daring rescue

On May 29 Patrick, standing offshore of the town with his ragtag fishing fleet, learned to his horror that no provision had been made to evacuate the townspeople.

His urgent enquiries only prompted a stern message from force headquarters: he was to hold his boats in reserve and not—"repeat not"—concern himself with the civilian population.

At midnight, a crisis meeting of the city council was still agonising about how they could evacuate the people to the designated safe areas. The then mayor, Theodor Broch, tells what happened next:

"There was a commotion by the door. A young Englishman said he had to talk to me, that we had to evacuate the town. I barked at him that we had no boats."

"I have the boats," said Patrick. "Let's go."

His providential appearance in defiance of strict orders; that clipped self-assurance; rescuing the population of a doomed city—what could have been more James Bondian?

Within the hour, under Patrick's close supervision, women and children were being handed down into the boats.

"I have never forgotten him," says Gerd Carlsson, who was 21 and boarding with her sister and baby nephew. "There was shooting from land and sea, and lines of waiting people, and such a babble of shouting. But he shook each person's hand warmly and was so calm that although I didn't even know where I was going, I wasn't afraid."

During the next two days and nights, 4,500 people were ferried to safety in dozens of communities along the surrounding waterways.

Early on June 2, Patrick and Mayor Broch walked together through Narvik's empty streets, making sure no one was left behind. By then, even the last of the troops had slipped away.

But hours later, while Patrick was still there, the bombers came, turning the town's neat wooden buildings into an inferno, reducing most of them to splinters and ashes.

Patrick watched as Narvik burned, heartsick because he knew there was nothing in the town of military value, only people's homes.

Wartime intelligence

On June 8, Patrick went back to Britain, disillusioned by the Allied defeat, bitter that he hadn't managed to stay behind and organise a Norwegian resistance—and dreading a message from the Admiralty that he was to be court-martialled for gross disobedience of orders at Narvik.

Instead, the Admiralty signalled him with a message from King Haakon VII of Norway: His Majesty would be in London shortly and he would personally present Lieutenant Dalzel-Job with the Knight's Cross of St Olav, Norway's highest order, for saving the people of Narvik.

After that, nothing was heard about a court-martial. But Patrick was relegated to a series of converted merchantmen that zigzagged across the South Atlantic intercepting blockade-breakers or convoying Allied freighters safely to port.

"All this", he recalled in the book he later wrote (and published) about his adventures, "seemed terribly monotonous to me."

Just as he began thinking the war had passed him by, Lord Louis Mountbatten summoned him to London and put him in charge of motor torpedo boat (MTB) operations in Norway. It was particularly dangerous work, for the Germans were throwing all they had into defending Norway's coast.

But Patrick knew plenty of narrow entrance channels that the Germans didn't. His MTBs raised havoc with commando raids, sabotage and attacks on enemy ships.

It forced the Germans to step up defensive operations and induced trepidation quite out of proportion to the number of MTBs employed against them.

Still only a lieutenant, Patrick was next posted to a detachment of midget submarines. In September 1943, he briefed their four-man crews on the remote Arctic estuary where the German battleship Tirpitz was moored in apparent safety; three of the tiny craft crept into the fiord and crippled her in a raid that earned VCs for two of the participants.

Next, equipped with a radio transmitter, he was put ashore on a Norwegian island, on a one-man intelligence mission to track supply convoy patterns through the inland waters.

He knew that capture meant summary execution, on Hitler's own orders. Yet he remembers those three weeks, alone and utterly dependent on his own wit for survival, as among the most exhilarating of his life.

Taken off the island by pre-arrangement, he assuaged his reluctance to leave by directing the MTB that picked him up to a German merchantman whose anchorage he had noted. Two torpedoes finished her off.

James Bond rises through the ranks

On June 10, D-Day-plus-4, Patrick landed on Utah beach in Normandy as a member of Commander Ian Fleming's intelligence hit squad, the 30th Assault Unit (30 AU)—a name intended to mislead, since it was never meant to assault anything and probably took its number from an office door in the Admiralty.

Patrick, promoted to lieutenant-commander, was in command of Team 4, reporting by courier directly to Fleming.

All the way through Normandy, Belgium and into Germany, Team 4 operated ahead of the assault troops in enemy-held territory, getting their hands on German documents, weapons and installations before they could be destroyed by the Germans or by Allied artillery.

Patrick revelled in it; this kind of war, where he was free to set the level of risk, was the kind he wanted to fight. And he sent back a steady stream of data and captured equipment.

He found the control centre for the long-range bombing of Allied convoys in the Atlantic; he recovered intact a new and dangerously effective midget submarine; reaching Cologne 24 hours before any other Allied troops, Team 4 walked unhindered into the vast Schmidding metalworks and took it over.

Patrick's audacity was sometimes breathtaking. When some nuns showed him a heavy safe used by the Germans, he promptly blew it open, breaking every window in the convent. He gave the money in the safe to the nuns for repairs and sent the documents in it to London.

His reports from the field to the desk-bound Ian Fleming kept fleshing out a portrait of the kind of man the would-be writer was conjuring up for his fictional hero. But Patrick's most stunning exploit was still to come.

An impossible stunt

The target was the vast Deschimag shipyard in Bremen where, he had heard from prisoners, there could be as many as 20 of the newest high-speed German submarines—a prize of enormous intelligence value.

But winning it would be a race: the 52nd Lowland Division, following on close behind 30 AU, was planning on blasting the shipyard into oblivion.

In the afternoon of April 26, 1945, Team 4 entered Bremen's deserted central square. A fretful policeman appeared. Please, he said to Patrick in the lead Jeep, would the commander accompany him to the city hall where the mayor was waiting?

Patrick found the mayor, dressed in formal black, alone in the empty, echoing chamber.

"He wanted me to accept the surrender of the city of Bremen and all its services," Patrick recalled, "and he gave me assurances of vigorous police action against any who failed to co-operate fully."

Patrick went at once to radio Army Command that organised military resistance was ended and whatever the Allies wanted would be done. "I told them that, except for some sniping, the city was secure. They didn't have to shell the shipyard."

But the Army did not see it that way. They were going to open fire that very evening, they replied, as soon as they came within range.

Furious, Patrick climbed into his scout car and set out alone for the shipyard, staking his life that there really was no resistance there, and that his presence would keep the Army from shelling it.

Then, at the very gates of the shipyard, his scout car sputtered and died—it had run out of petrol. And when he tried to radio for help, all he got was static; contact had been cut by interference from surrounding buildings.

It's like a bad film, Patrick remembers thinking. But what would happen in the last reel?

He considered going ahead on foot, but needed the rest of his team with the radio truck. Without it, how could he tell the Army he was inside the shipyard? He would only get killed there.

Spotting some workers, he grabbed a bicycle from one of them. Frantically he pedalled back through the sunset to his unit—aware that there was still enough daylight for a sniper to put a bullet in his back.

When he rounded the last corner, his anxiously waiting men hauled him on board the lead vehicle, bicycle and all, and the column sped off for the shipyard at breakneck speed.

Inside, they found 16 brand new submarines and two destroyers, and forestalled their imminent demolition by the shipyard technicians and directors.

Patrick and his men took them all prisoner, and in a night-long search found technical papers detailing the most recent German naval research, as well as machine tools of highly advanced design.

They had not heard the last from the Army. Early next morning, when submarine experts had already begun a detailed study of the captured U-boats, all of the new high-speed Type 21, a British Army staff officer appeared and asked Patrick to sign a receipt for them—implying that the 52nd Division had captured them.

This was the last straw for Patrick. He slammed the gate and had a sign posted on it to the effect that the entire shipyard was the property of 30 AU: "Keep Out!"

Bond gets the girl

The war ended soon after. Patrick never saw Ian Fleming again, nor did the British government reward his wartime valour with even a single honour or citation.

Among those who still wonder why is Rear Admiral Jan Aylen, then a Commander in 30 AU, who calls Patrick "one of the most enterprising, plucky and resourceful people that the Second World War produced".

The reason is not complicated. Frequently Patrick committed the unforgivable offence of disagreeing with senior officers and, worse, being proved right.

Just like James Bond.

As soon as the fighting ended, Patrick responded to the great hunger in his heart and returned to Norway.

Six years had passed; Bjørg was 19 now, a different person. He was different. But as soon as they saw each other, they knew they had only been marking time. They married three weeks later.

The James Bond years, about to begin for Ian Fleming, were over for Patrick. He and Bjørg went to Canada, where Patrick served in the Canadian navy and their son lain grew up.

In 1960 they settled near Plockton in the West Highlands, prepared to continue living happily ever after. Patrick taught in the village school and Bjørg became a pillar of the community until her death, in 1986, of cancer.

Patrick, brave as ever, soldiered on alone. He finally passed away in 2003.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Patrick Dalzel #james bond #007 #ian fleming #mi6

[danganronpafan777]

Dra Girls dating a S/O who just like Gonta including his big appearance and goal of becoming a gentleman

Sure!

Kanata Inori:

She thought you were adorable!!

Kanata didn't mind if you spoke a bit strange, since she's been told that she talks a bit too formally herself

You admire her wish to help people as much as she admires your wish to be a gentleman

You start to pick up her habit of speaking formally, making her blush a bit, and even think of you during work

It didn't annoy her if your intelligence was a bit below average, and she was more than happy to explain things to you

The height difference between the two of you is HUGE, and you sometimes get weird looks during dates, but neither of you really mind

There's nothing that makes her happier than coming home from a long shift to find you setting up a candlelit dinner just for her

Kizuna Tomori:

Wow... you were just so easy to manipulate

And to top it all off, your family was wealthy! She saw you as an absolute goldmine, and thought your goal of being a gentleman was just so naive

Your kindhearted personality made you one of her favorite boyfriends, but... you never showed interest in her body or her friends

Your loyalty was commendable... enough to make her feel a bit bad that she wasn't reciprocating

Kizuna saw men as her servants, and you played the part better than most

You were basically her bodyguard, and you unknowingly scared away many who hated her ways, as well as some of her other servants 

Compared to you, everyone treated her as some kind of prize, but you prized her as a person. It was a feeling she never knew she was missing.

And Kizuna began to crave it.

It was a slow transition, but with help from you and her classmates, Kizuna Tomori began to change her ways.

It started as less men being around her and her asking you about your day. She felt hesitant at first, but your sweet smile as you told her how much you appreciated her made it all worth it

Rei Mekaru:

She could figure out everything about you from one look, and came up with one word to describe you: Incompetent

You were one of the biggest imbeciles she's ever met, lacking basic understanding in the easiest of subjects

Rei also was disgusted by bugs, straining your relationship with her

As she connects with her class, she comes to learn more about you, and how, in a way, you were abandoned by your parents too

The only difference was that you were taken in, and even if it was a pack of wolves who adopted you, you never had to pick yourself off the streets

Where Rei studied to exhaustion to escape, you simply adapted and made friends

She didn't understand your logic behind being a gentleman, but over time she tries to 

It's just difficult for her to ignore logic and reason in favor of childish hopes, but you understand

The two of you are the definition of "opposites attract" with you trying to apologize every time she insults someone

She reads up on insects to make you happy, and tries to teach you school subjects, which never works, but she refuses to fail as an educator

You and Rei become the royalty of every school dance

Mikako Kurokawa:

As classmates, Mikako got along with you well! 

She didn't mind explaining things to you, and if you still didn't get it, she'd just go with whatever assumptions you had about the subject

She assures you that you're not scary looking, and will hold your hand as much as she can

Yamato tries to pull a "Break my sister's heart and I'll break you" 

...Only for you to sweetly smile and say you'll never hurt her, and he's in tears by the time you're done explaining how much she means to you

(If this was before the class got to know you, Kanata, Kakeru, and Tsurugi would've been on standby, thinking Yamato was about to get his ass whooped) 

She's definitely scared of bugs, but Mikako will gladly listen to you ramble about them

In the killing game, you never hesitate to pick her up or get her an icepack for her headaches. She appreciates it, but it makes her miss your relationship even more 

Kiyoka Maki:

She was a bit worried when she saw your large appearance, but immediately relaxed when you happily greeted her

"Hello! Huh, you're really nice! Guess I was worried about nothing!"

Yeah, she sometimes speaks without thinking, leading her to accidentally admit you're scary looking, but she rushes to comfort you. She'll never call you stupid, but might assume that you don't know things.

She's terrified of spiders, but thinks other insects are cool, especially moths and butterflies

Her and her brother used to capture fireflies as kids, so holding and looking at them with you always brings her a sense of nostalgia

She always appreciates a gentleman, and tries to reciprocate some of the gestures, like holding the door for you when entering class

Kiyoka definitely ends up making it a competition between the two of you, and tries her best to assure you that it's all in good fun (But will let you be the bigger gentleman to make you feel better)

Akane Taira:

She thought you were absolutely adorable, not to mention a huge sweetheart

The two of you grew close as you always helped her clean, offering to do her chores for her. You didn't always do it right, but your innocence and declaration of being a gentleman had her crushing after a few weeks

She drops a few subtle hints, but you are completely oblivious, which Akane finds even more cute

She felt safe with you. She just wanted to hold you and never let go!

Even if you weren't the brightest, she'll take your hand and break down whatever you're confused about

Akane knows you'll never leave her, and when the two of you finally get together, you're inseparable 

Ayame Hatano:

She wasn't really intimidated by your appearance, and was actually really impressed! She asked you what kind of workouts you did, only to be confused when you had no idea what she was talking about

Ayame knew that she talked and rambled a lot, but you always listened to her, and never hesitated to assure her that you liked hearing her talk

The two of you work out together, and she's flattered when you bring her some water, and regularly ask if she's doing alright

It didn't take too long for her to develop feelings, and even though you talked strange, she could usually make out what you were trying to say. 

She'll try to explain things to you, but might stammer and mess up, awkwardly trying to correct herself, just to mess up again. Ayame rambled enough as is, but could barely think straight when with you! 

That's why she really treasures the time the two of you just train, or go on runs. Sneaking glances at you as you both take a lap around the school, you being one of the only people to keep up with her, and stopping each time you want to point out a bug to her

Bugs don't bother her, and she's happy to listen to you ramble about them, just as much as you love to listen to her

Satsuki Iranami:

She definitely thought you were big and scary at first, but still decided to talk to you anyway. 

"Kyahaha! Y/n is just a big softie!"

"Y/n gentleman, actually."

She makes fun of your stupidity sometimes, despite not being very bright herself, and you usually are none the wiser

She's definitely tried to climb onto your shoulders by herself, refusing when you offer to just pick her up

Satsuki doesn't usually understand whatever you don't understand, but on the few times she can explain it to you, she sometimes just comes up with the most bizarre explanations she can think of, giggling to herself the rest of the day.

It's a flip of the coin whether Satsuki is nonchalant or completely terrified around bugs. There's been times where she's picked up a spider in the classroom to scare Haru, but in your lab, she will scream and yell about "bugnados"

Keisuke was extremely wary of you at first, but warmed up quickly

Whenever both of you have nothing to do over the weekend, you and Satsuki watch Insect Rangers for hours

#dra #danganronpa another #dra x reader #danganronpa x reader #satsuki iranami #mikako kurokawa #rei mekaru #kizuna tomori #kiyoka maki #ayame hatano #akane taira #kanata inori

[lucky-dreamfisher]

Hey! Just finished playing BATDR and love reading your theories. I'll admit, im confused about one thing. How do the lores between the book and games not line up?? They both make sense to me and look like they work together.

Basically nothing from DCTL or TLO has been referenced in the game. None of the characters or events in the books are referenced in any way and you lose nothing by not reading them.

DCTL builds up the character of Dot with Buddy strongly believing that she will come back and save them all, and TLO makes a big deal out of the antidote to the ink which can be used to turn the ink creatures back to humans. None of it is in the game.

In the books Thomas is said to lack formal education, but in BATDS Wally calls him a "College Kid"

Thomas also says that Joey owns the rights to everything Gent creates, but that's not true according to the games.

In BATDR, Gent owns the rights to everything.

Joey's personality and goals are also very different. In the game we're told that Joey's motivation for creating the inkworld was to torture Henry, but in TIOL he talks about wanting to create this all along for the purpose of entertaining the masses. We also see him personally kill people, including children. None of this is ever mentioned in the game, though it's a big thing to sweep under the rug if you're giving a character a redemption storyline.

And finally, Sammy has a coffin in BATIM, but in the book he physically transforms into ink with his whole body, and TLO established that transformed people are still alive and can be changed back into humans with the use of an antidote. So Joey's choice to keep Sammy trapped in the ink world is essentially keeping a human being prisoner, who could've been set free at any moment if Joey chose to let it happen. That doesn't really line up with the narrative about his supposed change of heart in BATDR.

To sum it up, the books now feel like merch. Something you can buy if you're a fan of the franchise and want to own something from it, but not something you're intended to use for lore and theorycrafting purposes.

#bendy spoilers #bendy and the dark revival #bendy and the ink machine #bendy books #ask

[dailycharacteroption]

Roleplaying Races 15: Orang-Pendak

(art by young920 on DeviantArt)

And so we come to the final entry of the week, and it’s a First Edition ancestry that… well, I kinda thought was lame when I first saw it.

I don’t think I can be blamed though. After all, the orang-pendak are a species of sapient primates (already done with the vanara) that are based in part on folklore of ape-people living in the forest (also vanara) that are only really set apart by their small size with surprising strength and their unique aversion to riding on mounts or in vehicles. With only that bestiary entry to go off of, it’s easy to see why they’d be another bestiary-orphan ancestry.

But is there more to them? Certainly!

In the real world, orang-pendek (so glad to have validation that spelling it with an ‘e’ is ok) are beings from Indonesian folklore, specifically Sumatran, where the people have stories of the “short people of the forest”, which were similar to the orangutan, but different, more human-like. Certain accounts from islanders claim they are smart enough to use tools and could sometimes be territorial and violent.

Now, regardless of whether these tales are true or merely folklore based on misinterpreted sightings of orangutans or insular forest-dwelling societies, but the nature of the story has naturally attracted the attention of both legitimate biologists and cryptozoologists alike.

In any case, the Pathfinder version does not list a specific nation in the bestiary entry, but it can be assumed that they are from parts of Tian Xia. Additionally, they are described as a distant relation to sasquatches, and are just as shy and insular.

The orang-pendak are small humanoid apes covered in shaggy fur that ranges from brown to a rusty red-orange. As such, it’s easy to see how they could be mistaken for orangutans or gibbons from a distance. However, their proportions are more akin to a human’s or halflings, albeit with a hunched posture.

They are also semi-nomadic gatherers that only really hunt to round out their diet with protein, and spend most of the time subsisting on the world around them before moving on in order to minimize their impact on their surroundings. Beyond this, they are a close-knit people that are shy and distrustful of outsiders.

Surprisingly strong for their size, orang-pendaks are also empathetic and wise, but their lack of formal education hampers them somewhat.

Familiar as they are with forest terrain, they are adept at climbing and hiding within the foliage.

They also possess excellent night vision.

Orang-pendaks however, become easily unnerved and motion sick when being moved by forces other than their own autonomy, making riding mounts or in vehicles difficult and outright undesirable for them.

Their kinship with the other apes they share their territory with makes it easy for them to get along with other primates.

Their surprising upper body strength also makes them shockingly adept at destroying objects as well.

It’s nice to see a small ancestry that not only doesn’t have a strength penalty, but has a strength bonus, making those small barbarian or fighter builds much more viable. Their wisdom also lends itself well to rangers and druids, or even clerics. On the other hand, however, that intelligence penalty does make arcane magic builds somewhat limited, but the real kicker is their Own Two Feet weakness, which basically makes classes and archetypes with mounts, such as cavalier or samurai, difficult to play without using archetypes that remove and replace the mount with something more useful, to say nothing of the difficulties of overland travel in adventures where mounts or vehicles would be the superior way to travel. Like all weaknesses, however, they can be surmounted.

That does it for this week, and I hope you enjoyed it. This is the second to last time we’ll be able to do this for first edition ancestries, but fret not, I already have plans to continue into 2nd Edition, not to mention continuing to look at species from Starfinder!

#pathfinder #race #orang-pendak #bestiary 5

[ifacotarwasgood]

why is chapter 2 of acotar bad? some short craft lessons

CH 2

click here for the full comparison between the original chapter and my revision.

DISCLAIMER: this is not an exhaustive list.

heightened prose style = distracting

we're told feyre barely has a formal education and has nearly turned feral in her struggle to keep her family alive, but we're supposed to believe her internal monologue sounds like:

My father had once convinced a passing charlatan to trade the engravings against faerie harm in exchange for for one of his wood carvings. There was so little that my father was ever able to do for us that I hadn't possessed the heart to tell him the engravings were useless...and undoubtedly fake.

using heightened diction and formal sentence structure isn't inherently problematic, but it sounds uppity and pedantic, which doesn't match feyre's characterization at all. instead, it just sounds like sjm's authorial voice.

it also makes every sentence real clunky, which is...not good.

thin characterization = the archerons are a bunch of losers

elain, nesta, and papa archeron are barely described beyond how useless and helpless they are. while this puts feyre's competence into greater relief, it also makes it hard for the reader to care about her main motivation, which is to keep them alive.

why should we care about their survival when feyre describes her family like:

The undercurrent of hunger honed [Elain's] words into a sharpness that had become too common in recent weeks. No mention of the blood on me. I'd long since given up hope of them actually noticing whether I came back from the woods every evening. At least until they got hungry again.

???

sections like this remind us again and again of feyre's resentment toward her family, but we're also told that her only motivation is to keep them safe. it's a very tricky needle to thread, and I don't think sjm does it successfully. I end up being annoyed by them all equally.

this isn't how people talk, sarah

sjm's dialogue is real bad.

on one hand, it's bad because of the word choice. again, the diction is so heightened it just doesn't feel believable, especially since this chapter focuses on family members bickering.

an example. nesta says:

"I thought all you wanted was for us to get out of the house—to marry off me and Elain so you can have enough time to paint your glorious masterpieces."

but a) real people don't talk in complex sentence constructions, especially when they're agitated. and b) "glorious masterpieces" is so distracting I genuinely rolled my eyes when I first read it.

dialogue isn't accurate to real life speech—the same way fiction in general doesn't match real life exactly. real people talk about nothing most of the time when we want characters to talk about something relevant.

but dialogue has to balance mimicking real life speech while not cleaving to how any of us really speak. it has to reflect speech's cadence without its disorganization (which is why we don't clutter our written dialogue with "um"s and "uh"s; readers will skip over that shit anyway).

sharper (i.e., more efficient), simpler dialogue will almost always sound the most natural on the page.

on the other hand, sjm's dialogue is bad because it doesn't seem to be guided toward any particular emotional or logical revelation. (this is a symptom caused by sjm's larger problem with writing scene arcs.)

the argument at the end of this chapter jumps around until apparently sjm felt like it went on long enough, and then nesta flounces away, delivering this killing blow:

"You're just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you'll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed."

except it's not a killing blow.

partly because it's in response to...well, nothing. before this, feyre says nesta would be a burden to the mandrays (which is repeated, in slightly different language, earlier in the conversation), but that's not really what their argument is about.

what's happening beneath the dialogue is a power struggle between nesta, who believes she can marry tomas mandray on her own authority, and feyre, who's decided she's the head of the family and vetoes that decision. nesta delivering a killing blow should be in response to feyre putting her foot down for good. and what she says should be more specific to their specific power dynamic.

so that's what I did in my revision. here's the link again if you want to read it in its entirety!

#a little craft lesson as a treat #if anyone has any specific craft-related questions lmk #I could talk about this stuff forever #ch 2 #acotar #sjm critical #acotar critical #anti acotar #writing advice #writing

[v-arbellanaris]

Once Again, I Am Dissatisfied With DAI. which! yknow. in other news. water is wet. but like. a lot of the arguments -- both in-world (e.g. from vivienne, wynne, etc,) and from the fans -- for keeping the circles as a system, even with reform, seems to revolve around the idea that mages need some kind of magic school to learn how to control their magic. i don’t disagree that mages need to learn how to control their magic, but i disagree that they need a place for it, or some kind of magic school, for it, and i definitely vehemently disagree that the circle is that kind of place, in the past or the future.

there are canonically other ways, other than the circle -- ways that aren’t formal education systems -- for mages to be educated, with as little risk to themselves, spirits or others, as possible. ways that don’t involve chantry oversight, templar guards, or segregation from the rest of society while they “train”. and, in truth, the circles weren’t created to protect mages or to educate them in the first place -- it’s an incidental feature, not an intentional feature.

like... let’s dig into the history of the circle for a second. because the circle hasn’t been around since the beginning of time, and surely, whatever the mages were doing before to learn to control their magic was working, seeing as how there’s nothing to indicate mages or anyone else was dying en masse from an inability to control their magic. the southern thedosian circle system was "adopted" from the tevinter circle system, with a critical difference -- where the tevinter circle system was a formal schooling system, the southern thedosian circle system was not.

drakon used mages against the darkspawn in the second blight (which started ~1:5 divine). by that point, the first inquisition was already a functioning organisation -- the inquisition itself predates the chantry (the inq starting around -100 ancient and the orlesian chantry established by drakon in -3 ancient), and hunted down dangerous mages and demons (the original inquisition is EXPLICITLY mentioned to be andrastian hardliners who also hunted “cultists and heretics” but this makes no sense as the inquisition predates the chantry. i can only imagine then that this was twisted/added later on, after the nevarran accord, as the seekers’ role became to hunt down cultists and heretics, to act as though that had always been their job/purpose). under inquisitor ameridan, and during the blight, in 1:20 divine (the second blight ends in 1:95 divine, seventy-five years later) the inquisition signs the nevarran accord and become the seekers and the templars, the latter of which exists to hunt down mages to drag them to the circle, which is also established at this time, in an agreement between the inquisition and the andrastian chantry/orlesian empire. the templars are explicitly created to capture mages unwilling to submit to the circle and bring them in. that’s why templars are also referred to in-game as “magehunters”.

i want to note that there’s no indication here that the circles were set up for the protection of mages from the public -- mages had been living in society openly before this. mages themselves (as far as we can tell; maybe bioware will retcon this later and say mages in the first inquisition pushed for this... ) did not push for the creation of the circle; it was created under drakon’s chantry, in conjunction with the inquisition, which contained mages but at this point, the inquisition’s (mostly as a result of ameridan) main priority had shifted from dealing with magic -- it was supporting orlais against the blight. (which further establishes the very roots of the templars and the seekers as the chantry’s army by the time of dai.)

the inquisition’s whole purpose was to hunt down dangerous mages. they then transitioned into... essentially, what they are now. magehunters. but why hunt mages in the first place? orsino asks at the end of da2 why the chantry doesn't just drown mages at birth -- why lock them up in the circle? from a colder standpoint, why aren't mages just made tranquil the moment they're taken into the circle? it's certainly more profitable for the chantry, who can use the tranquil for enchantments, and it would entirely eliminate the so-called danger that mages pose to themselves and others simply by existing. presumably, it might even serve as a “punishment” for the magisters sidereal who were mages that unleashed the blight on the world (according to the chantry). why put them into a "magical boarding school" (again! it’s not a school, it’s a prison. the circles are a prison) in the first place if the very existence of mages is such a danger?

& i think the answer to that question lies in the relationship between the leaders of a nation and the chantry/the templars. the way it seems to work is that chantry law supercedes sovereign law (evidence: loghain's use of apostates against the wardens is labelled a crime by representatives of the chantry during the landsmeet; later in da2 alistair claims he can’t free the ferelden circle as the chantry opposed it) BUT the grey warden treaties supercede even chantry law (duncan is able to conscript amell/surana/tabris (the alienage, of course, is a chantry invention), the warden is able to conscript anders). when you play the mage origin in dao, you're immediately alerted to the fact that greagoir is agitated by duncan's presence, because duncan is recruiting mages for the grey wardens and he has no right to deny duncan that recruitment. this is explicitly exacerbated by the fact that cailan has been demanding mages for the battlefront for the king's army (confirmed by duncan & irving (in the circle tower) and alistair (in ostagar) separately) -- that's why wynne, uldred, and the group of circle mages were present at ostagar.

according to chantry law, which supercedes any ruling cailan could pass, mages belong in and to the circle. so how come cailan legally has the right to demand mages for the battlefront? why can’t greagoir -- the knight-commander of the tower -- simply say no? unless... you know. that was the real purpose of the circle’s creation. not for education. not for the protection of mages. but so that, as emperor, drakon would always have easy access to mages to supplement his army. he “utilised” mages during the blight (again! there’s no explanation of what the hell that means. did mages sign up willingly to fight for drakon? did he force them to work for orlais whenever/wherever he found one??) and splitting the inquisition (ameridan implies the inquisition were actively supporting orlais/drakon during the second blight) between hunting down mages and fighting the darkspawn seems like a waste of resources. but maybe that’s why the division between seekers and templars exist in the first place -- seekers were sent to the battlefront whilst templars, lesser in number maybe at the time, ran the circles as a source of mages. (over time, maybe, the numbers balance between seekers and templars reverse -- templars are easier to control, once the chantry monopolises the lyrium trade, compared to the seekers?) now that would be justification for shoving all these mages into a circle together, rather than just eradicating them on sight.

(it might even explain why meredith/elthina rejected alrik's tranquil solution in da2 on paper; they still needed the mages to fight against the qunari at the time, if they were ever to attack kirkwall. you can kind of see it during the battle in hightown -- meredith sent the mages ahead of her to deal with the qunari. mages are weapons to them. the circle exists to support the military endeavours of the chantry or of the leader of the nation.)

it would also explain why there’s some instances where sovereign law does seem to supercede the chantry law. on the one hand, templars are under the chantry’s control and nations could be convinced to allow the (orlesian) chantry to train templars in their lands to bring mages to the circle and combat dangerous magic (and of course the orlesian chantry monopolises lyrium trade with orzammar so presumably other countries can’t get their hands on it for themselves which yknow! what do people like to say about how the chantry is neutral or helping people again? monopolising the anti-magic serum so no one else can have it sure is very helpful and altruistic...). but why allow the circles to exist, under the power of a foreign-based system (the seat of power for the chantry, who controls the templars, is in orlais after all)? it could so easily be used against you... unless you were convinced that you could also utilise these mages during war.

so, considering this as the central reason for the establishment of the circle, does it mean the circle can't become a school? irl, as far as i know, formal schools started off as a way to educate the military, later to educate the workforce, and schools in colonised nations often served as a vehicle for cultural and religious assimilation. i don't think the circles, as they are, are exempt from this. we already know that the circles approach magic from an andrastian perspective -- it's most clearly highlighted in conversations between anders and merrill in da2, and vivienne and solas in dai. but we see it in how much keili is taught to hate herself in the magi origin in dao, the way magic is taught to be some unforgivable curse and sin. we know (some of) the circles teach mages battle magic (within reason; i always wonder if being set on fire or hit with lightning or whatever else is more than just a game mechanic and reflective of some kind of underpowering of spells so that mages can’t turn against their oppressors easily) probably specifically for the reason i outlined above -- you see mages being taught how to fight in the circle in dao during the magi origin alongside all of the lessons about how they must only ever use their magic to serve. already inherently, circle education functions to supplement the military and to serve as a vehicle for cultural & religious assimilation.

so... even if you were to "reform" the circle -- by removing templars, or removing it as an institution from chantry purview... or whatever vague "reforms" are actually implemented in dai...is the circle, itself, even as a "magical boarding school" necessary? is the circle actually necessary for mages to learn how to control their magic? and tbh the answer is no <3

like you see it time and time again, that you don’t need to go to magic school to learn how to use your magic. you meet so many talented mages who don't succumb to demonic possession or struggle with controlling their magic who didn't receive any education in the circle -- merrill, morrigan, zathrian, lanaya, aneirin, velanna, the hawkes (pc mage hawke, bethany).

later, you learn of the dairsmuid circle, where mages continued the same teachings that have been passed down to them for generations, with no sign that the city has been overrun by abominations or was threatened by uncontrollable magic. you learn of the avvar who willingly become “abominations” and unbecome them, with no loss of life on either side, or threat to the rest of their people.

the reason behind the establishment of the circle has nothing to do with education. any education that results from the circle is incidental to the main purpose -- which is to supply armies with magical power.

#i think there's a... trend sometimes to assign value to a formal education over other forms of education #but education itself is incredibly related to privilege STILL #tevinter essentially having a ruling mage class and the circles there being an elite education system like real-life universities... #it's not a coincidence lol #idk! i just really don't think a formal education system for magic should exist in the first place #it's not necessary??? #mages in thedas do absolutely fine without needing some paper qualification saying they're now a qualified mage #my da meta #vee.txt #anti chantry #vee rewrites da

[silverloreley]

Patching holes in Descendants lore - Auradon Prep’s foundation

I’ve had a stray thought about Descendants. Well, not really a stray thought, I mean, it started from the Pocketwatch nonsense (they’ll have to explain me how is it that Charming, Aladdin and Jasmine are the same age as Maleficent who should be the same age as Leah, and how is it that there’s a teen Hades who is a god and his story should have started ages before??? Whatever, Pocketwatch isn’t canon anyway) and the Merlin school (?!?!), which brought me to think about the Princess Academy (you know, as in the fan webseries on YouTube).

Now, in Princess Academy it’s implied the princesses reunited in there to share knowledge and learn how to be actual princesses. The presence of Giselle seems to imply that was a time after she and Edward met where she was sent to the PA to learn stuff before her marriage, which totally makes sense... or it would if they actually learned State welfare, advanced economics, diplomacy and stuff.

Which led me to think of Auradon Prep. Canon says Auradon Prep was instituted by King Beast, and that Adam and Belle married when he was 28, 7 years after his curse was broken. It’s reasonable to think that during those 7 years lots of stuff happened. I already talked about the Villains’ Takeover, and the possible war, and the reason the castle was made into a school to begin with, here I want to add a few other things.

It’s reasonable that the princesses (and princes) would need a formal education in ruling. The ones who used to be commoners like Cinderella, Belle and Tiana had no preparation whatsoever, full stop. Born princesses like Snow White, Aurora and Rapunzel were raised in completely different environments than they should have. Ariel, though she is royalty by birth, comes from an underwater realm and knew nothing of human politics, and same goes for Moana, Raya and Kida who had an upbringing that is nothing alike to that of european ruling style, the one Auradon is loosely based on (the fact I think Auradon should be more like the EU than USA factors a lot in this reconstruction). The only ones I can think had a formal education as future rulers are Merida (we see it in canon), Elsa and possibly Anna, Elena (of Avalor), and perhaps Jasmine (provided the Sultan didn’t assume her husband would take over and didn’t bother having her educated in ruling). Some of the princes, like Aladdin, Eugene, Milo, and Kristoff started as commoners so they’d have no such education either and I think some of the born princes may need a refresh on some stuff.

Besides, they’re all pretty young aren’t they? (Save for Milo, I think Milo is the oldest Disney prince since he’s 32. I’d have to check for others, but I’m pretty sure he’s the eldest).

So, the making of a school to help the young rulers of a new nation-alliance makes sense. The name itself is a giveaway, Auradon Prep, short for Preparatory School. It either was made right after the merge of realities (I have another post about this facet) or it could have started as a refuge during the conflict with the Villains: they picked a castle where the Heroes could regroup and train for the final confrontation, and then the castle was converted to a proper school and the training activities became sports (you know, like hunting was a war training exercise for nobles in ancient times). It also makes sense that Adam, who owned that castle, decided to convert it to a school for his allies and later their children.

#disney descendants #descendants #auradon lore

[sovaghoul]

This is an intro piece about a Magickal system I've had a hand in developing. This is not a complete system at present, but that is the eventual goal. I figured posting about it might add some encouragement, and may also spark some additional inspiration for our development efforts. If you comment, please be respectful. If you have nothing positive or constructive to say, please keep scrolling.

My thanks to @ghostlylivres for encouraging me to post this.

What is Sorgae?

Sorgae is a (partially) revealed form of religious Witchcraft, meaning that parts of it have been given to us directly from the Gods. It was uncovered through strict adherence to Traditional Gardnerian Wicca, but has branched off and evolved into something that can no longer properly be called Wicca of any stripe. It is further comprised of group/shared gnosis, much of which has been subsequently verified through research. There are also themes in common with pre-Christian European Pagan religions (from various cultures), Feri Witchcraft, Hedgewitchery, Luciferian Witchcraft, Traditional (pre-Gardner/Wicca) Witchcraft, Kaballah, and Pop-Occulture, but it is not wholly in the same category as any of these paths.

And to be clear, we have not purposely drawn inspiration from any of these other Traditions, save for Wicca; we have simply, through our efforts and research, noticed many parallels. The idea of Omnism is very applicable here, and as such, the feel of Sorgae is very diverse and eclectic, without the initial intention of being so. And yet, the overall message from our Gods is, "It's all the same thing;" one tapestry woven of many unique threads.

We celebrate our Esbats as the thirteen New Moons in a calendar year, as opposed to the Full Moons. Our holidays occur at the same eight points on the calendar as many other Pagan paths, but have different names and different foci. We recognize eight Directions, Elements, and Powers (as opposed to the "usual" four), and honor Deities associated with these directions.

In addition to the Directional Deities, we also honor a High God and High Goddess, a Goddess of the Rim (as in the outer edge of a circle or ring), and an as-yet indeterminate Deity form of the Center. Our 'Craft works heavily with Fae (two sorts in each of the four Cardinal Directions), Nymphs and the Watchers in the four cross-quarter directions, and also Familiar spirits (animal and human forms, from both ancient and modern myth).

Now and again, information about this path will include non-English words. These are Vaska, a language taught to us by Deity, and one we believe may be a forgotten precursor to Basque (none of us being professional/formally educated linguists, this is our speculation, due to our own research and observations). Any time a Vaska word is used, it will be defined as precisely as possible, but Vaska is a conceptual language, and sometimes a single words stands for a very complex and nuanced concept. For example, the name of our 'Craft, Sorgae ("SOHR-gay"), means, "what Witches do." A man who practices Sorgae is called a Sorg, and a woman, a Sorga (at this time we do not have terms for gender expressions outside the traditional binary, however the word Sorgitsa is plural for Witches, and Sorgitsak means "all Witches across all of space and time"). Our holidays are called Sabeot/ds ("SAH-beh-ohtds"), and is written with "t/d" because the sound there is somewhere between those letters.

We have created a Tarot deck based on Sorgae 'Craft, the meanings of which will be the basis for many further Sorgae posts here. The card descriptions include information about the relevant Deities and concepts being addressed. I'm happy to answer any questions anyone may have about this path.

🔮🕯🔮🕯🔮

Here is a brief run down of most of the basics of Sorgae. Almost everything listed here will be expanded on. Feel free to refer back to this as the series progresses, if need be, though I will do my best to include relevant associations as we go.

Many of our Gods have told us They were recognized in various pre-Christian cultures, but that They are also older than those civilizations. The people who worshipped Them at the time gave them Names, certainly. Though, to avoid any preconceived associations, I have elected to refer to them by archetypal descriptions, rather than specific Names.

🔮🕯🔮🕯🔮

The High Gods

The Eternal Mother: the Mother of All, Mother of Life, Queen of the Multiverse, Eternity. Think of Gaia/Gaea, but more than just the planet Earth.

The Cosmic Father: Sky-Father, the Source, God-King, Time. Think of Ouranos/Uranus, but more than just the stars and the sky.

🔮🕯🔮🕯🔮

Directions and Associations

Direction: Northeast

God(s): The Man in Black/Ferryman

Element: Smoke, as from incense; the "vapor" (Air) of plants (Earth)

Power: Journeying

Color: Smokey grey

Beings: the Egregoroi/Watchers

Sabeot/d: Vol'ka (Feb. 1)

Associations: Infinity, possibility, potential, innumerable choices, the place between endings and beginnings, "smoke and mirrors"

Direction: East

God(s): The Faerie Queen, and the Archivist

Element: Air

Power: Knowledge

Color: White

Sabeot/d: Ostraven (Spring Equinox)

Beings: Hurralya (Beings of Knowledge), Hostarak (Beings of Air)

Associations: Knowledge, learning communication, beginnings, birth, transformations

Direction: Southeast

God(s): The Guide, and the Light-Bringer

Element: Spark, not yet a flame, the precise point that Air combusts as Fire ignites

Power: Decision

Color: Pale yellow

Beings: the Muses

Sabeot/d: B/Pelatin (May 1)

Associations: Making a decision from a variety of choices, transitioning from Knowledge to Action

Direction: South

God(s): The Phoenix Priestess, and the Tsaranos ("year king")

Element: Fire

Power: Will

Color: Red

Beings: Sorgitzak (Beings of Will), Seiralya (Beings of Fire)

Sabeot/d: Ardunakh (Summer Solstice)

Associations: Taking action, following your Will, enacting your Decisions

Direction: Southwest

God(s): The Maenad Queen, and the Ecstatic Sacrifice

Element: Steam, what happens when you add Fire to Water

Power: Sacrifice

Color: Reddish-purple

Beings: the Maenads

Sabeot/d: Lamasu (Aug. 1)

Associations: Blood, wine, ecstasy, frenzy, indulgence, that all lead to revelation; "spirits"/"firewater;" passion, the power that drives actions

Direction: West

God(s): The Muse, and the Dread Horned One

Element: Water

Power: Daring

Color: Deep blue

Beings: Keriosak (Beings of Daring), Uartalya (Beings of Water)

Sabeot/d: Vestraven (Fall Equinox)

Associations: Death, endings, inspiration, creativity, emotions

Direction: Northwest

God(s): The Witch, and the Manifestation

Element: Clay, what happens when you mix Earth and Water

Power: Mystery

Color: Silver

Beings: the Lampades

Sabeot/d: Soven (Oct. 31)

Associations: Manifestation, the physical acts of Magick, creating form from function, the Crossroads

Direction: North

God(s): The Mother Bear Priestess and the Guardian of the Gateway

Element: Earth

Power: Silence

Color: Black

Beings: Itlasak (Beings of Silence), Ertalya (Beings of Earth)

Sabeot/d: Salanakh (Winter Solstice)

Associations: Communion with the Divine, completion, justice, gateway to understanding, past and present, day and night, the still point between

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Other Gods

Goddess of the Rim, the Moon (speculated), and Rivers, the Task-Giver

Unsubstantiated Deity of the Center

A prior South Goddess/Priestess and prior South God/Tsaranos

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Important Concepts

Journeying/Traveling

Channeling

Fae, Witches, Familiars, Angels, Vampires, and Aliens and their interrelationships

Gobah, "I give so you may give"

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