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riddleredcoats · 11 months

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tell me about celene and mythal. TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!!!!! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!!!!

tell me about celene and mythal. please.

please.

I- well, I assume this is about that fantastic Morrigan post that @ammoniteflesh did that I butted in with my ceaseless love about Orlais? I can do that. Settle in, it's a long boi.

Spoilers for The Masked Empire, if you haven't read it (and you should) then this probably won't make much sense. And spoilers for pretty much everything else in DA, tbh.

More under the cut.

The Andraste parallels.

Basically, just copy-paste everything that links Mythal and Andraste in this section. This is a great post/example, though I don't think they are the same, rather just the same story repeating. But TLDR: Betrayal, Heartache, Justice, etc etc etc. I think this is a popular theory I am not going to go much deeper into it.

Celene is compared to Andraste multiple times throughout The Masked Empire. In the play (End-ish of Chapter 5), by Briala (early-ish Chapter 5), and the whole Empress of Fire (both song and the Burning of Halamshiral) debacle. Not only that, but Celene has some genuine thoughts, intentions, and actions about reforming Orlais that are close to what Andraste was doing; they are both trying to reform an imperialist power, granted in different ways (of course) but the parallels aren't meant to be exact.

Fun add-on: Hilarious that Celene basically destroys herself/her image by (in the Fandom, at least, while in Universe is intact for the most part) setting a fire. Because being set on fire was what finally elevated Andraste. It’s still a point for the parallel, just a contrasting parallel rather than a direct one.

Fun add-on, #2: Andraste is described as being a redhead, even in DAI by Cass I think, but is depicted as a white blonde (like Celene in The Masked Empire’s cover or Flemythal's white hair) in multiple paintings throughout Dragon Age. I don’t know what this means, but it’s a fun detail, nonetheless.

Justice! (But not really)

Both Celene and Mythal are arbiters of Justice, technically.

Celene as empress doles out justice as she wishes (more or less, see Halamshiral), but more specifically she wants to create a more just society for all Orlesians. Yes, of course, there is still that delightful imperialism there, but it just do be like that sometimes. Mythal is described several times as someone who doles out justice, throughout the games by Codex and Solas. She passes judgement, solves conflicts and was ‘the good one’.

Like the story of Elgar’nan and Falon’Din, where she solved it by each having champions and stopping the start of a devastating war. Sorta like Celene solved the Gaspard/Teagan conflict at the beginning of The Masked Empire (end of Chapter 1).

They can both be fair and reasonable but are also known for taking more harsh paths (i.e.; the slums of Halamshiral and the sinner who took divine form and went to Elgar’nan). They both promised to help the elves, yet they both seem to have ditched that idea; Mythal has done arguably very little for centuries, and Celene, while helping, without Briala is less than radical about it.

The Vengeance thing is here too. Celene is, after all, no saint and actively cannot forgive Gaspard for anything he does. Ever. And is definitely on a ‘war path’ by the end of TME. Mythal, similarly seems to be on a warpath forever for ‘a reckoning that will shake the very heavens’, whatever the hell that means. Also, everything Flemythal says in Origins just screams bitterness and vengeance.

Betrayal

Both of these women have been betrayed by those closest to them.

Celene by her court, her champion (The Masked Empire), her nobles (The Masked Empire and Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts), and both of her cousins (Gaspard and Florianne). Also, arguably, Mantillon betrayed her by ‘manipulating’ her into killing her own servants, but that is a whole 'nother bag to untangle. Oh, and Briala of course, by using Celene’s feelings for her and stealing the ruby during a kiss at the end of The Masked Empire.

FleMythal by her daughter (Morrigan), her husband (Elgar’nan, though if you want to include Flemeth’s here it is also applicable, I guess), her sons (if that’s what Dirthamen and Falon’Din really were?), her fellow ‘Gods’. Oh, and Fen’Harel at the end of DAI, too.

Funny is that both Celene and Mythal when it comes to Briala and Solas’ betrayals are fine with it. Celene completely understands Briala by the end of The Masked Empire, as does Mythal at the end of DAI. And they are both betrayed by Solas and Briala in front of Eluvians Which… yeah.

Another parallel; both Briala and Solas say they must do it for ‘The People’, aka, the elves.

The Rebels

Solas and Briala parallel a lot on their own, but their relationships with Mythal and Celene are fascinating too, as is seeing how Solas/Briala view Mythal/Celene.

Obviously, both of these pairs parallel Shartan/Andraste. Actual mention of this is in the play in The Masked Empire for Celene/Briala (Chapter 5 of TME).

Each pair is obviously fond of one another, likely in different ways - but perhaps not.

Interestingly enough if Solas really was in service to Mythal first (like Cole seems to imply in Trespasser) before he rose to ‘Godhood’ then, like Celene/Briala, the relationship likely started privately and then grew into the public like once Briala became Marquise and Solas became Fen’Harel.

If we take what Cole said, ‘He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face’, as it really being about Solas/Mythal then we have another interesting parallel between Briala/Solas and Celene/Mythal.

Celene, arguably, makes Briala into what she is by sending her away after having her parents killed. Felassan helped and, of course, Briala herself is the way she is because she is herself, but Celene is the catalyst for her more abrupt change. Briala does not get a scar when she separates herself from Celene; at least not a physical one. Mythal makes Solas into what he is by asking him to come to her.

Interestingly, it is a contrasting parallel – because Celene lets Briala go while Mythal beacons Solas into her service. Which is super interesting, but that is more about the relationship between Briala/Celene than anything else.

The way both Solas/Briala describe Mythal/Celene in-game;

Briala, if you ask about Celene during the peace, but before you go to the servants' quarters, says: ‘Celene is the voice of reason in the empire…’

Solas, in that final Trespasser cutscene: ‘She [Mythal] was a voice of reason, the best of them, and in their lust for power they killed her.”

Granted, Solas is fonder while Briala is a bit harsher in her assessment, but Solas did ‘kill’ Mythal, and whatever wounds Mythal may have caused (which we will get there) have long passed while Celene and Briala’s breakup is more recent. This means very little but i suspect that much like Celene, Mythal also betrayed Solas twice. Once in the times of Arlathan - like Celene killing Briala's parents. And another in recent times - with the burning of Halamshiral. We don't know about it yet, but that's my bet.

Morrigan

Both Mythal (or Flemythal) and Celene have a protective relationship with Morrigan.

Celene is more of a patron and offers financial support and protection. And the protection seems to be mutual (or supposed to be, if Morrigan didn’t bail in WEWH, lmao). Mythal/Flemythal is well, her mother, who is supposed to protect her but who is trying to possess her.

Both of these relationships seem to range from a little contentious (Celene/Morrigan, if you believe the rumours of a palace servant) to very contentious (Flemythal/Morrigan).

Celene seems to not be as intense as Mythal. Morrigan speaks well of her, and Celene does not try to control her like Mythal did, Celene even ‘lets’ her go out into the world – something baby!Morrigan wanted – with her blessing and her protection. I legit find the relationship between them interesting, despite the arguments that apparently took place, lmao. (I also sorta lowkey ship it, but that’s another conversation).

To give the benefit of the doubt; we don’t know how much Mythal was ‘in charge’ of Flemeth (or if they can even act separately) so Morrigan’s abuse might not be Mythal’s fault. But there is no denying that she was abused and that whatever aspect of Mythal, The Mother there was, it absolutely did not act in Morrigan’s favour.

But that is yet another that has nothing to do with Celene/Mythal and all to do with Morrigan.

Symbols matter (or not)

Mythal fought with the Evanuris and the Valmonts fought the Drakons. A bit more *tinfoil* and a lot more thin, but if the Dragon is the divine form like we suspect from Codex Entry in the Temple of Mythal, then the Valmonts having gone to war with the Drakon line could be another interesting parallel. After all, the Drakons are represented by dragons. There is also, technically, the 'full' title of the quest where Celene appears in:

The Old Gods will call to you, From their Ancient Prisons they will sing. Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts, On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, The First of My children, lost to night. - Canticle of Silence 3:6

Finally, and this is really silly and not really a parallel and most likely it’s just a fun coincidence, but the name Celene, which comes from the root word ‘Selene’, means ‘Moon’, which, of course, Mythal is the Goddess of.

Unimportant sidenote: I am pettily annoyed that most characters pronounce it ce-LI-ne when it should be ce-LE-ne. Because Celine is a legit different name and Celine-Celene have different meanings and root words, but okay I’ll allow it because I do like the pronunciation ‘Celine’ better, lmao.

#celene valmont #mythal #flemythal #dragon age ... meta?#the masked empire #dragon age #several other characters here but yeah #solas briala morrigan etc etc etc #I am not entirely sure this makes sense #hopefully it does #this is unedited and mostly made from memory pretty sure i am forgetting some things #as an aside this is one of my favourite aspects of the series the way that cycles keep repeating and you can help break them #i know people don't like putting Celene and Briala back together but it does make me happy to do it #because i am breaking a cycle that has been going on for thousands of years #Mythal/Solas Andraste/Shartan Celene/Briala #should WEWH have been done in a better way? aye #but it isn't the worst option #..... it's the Truce imo if you're curious. I can't believe i am saying this but even Gaspard is fucking better than the truce.

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shai-manahan · 1 year

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Hollowed Minds, as a story, is like a mirror that reflects the complexities and contradictions of human society, exposing its flaws with honesty and clarity.

It is interesting to me to see a story where the author doesn't hold back in showing the raw reality, without holding back. Showing how the darkness of the reality and society surrounding an individual with ideals and hopes for the future, tries every single day to extinguish that light of hope inside of them. How it tries to destroy them. How it tries to alter their personality, ideals and beliefs.

It shows how the mentality of "Public glory and fame" can corrupt a person. How the public opinion can make a person a beacon of light and a model for society, only to drag that same person's reputation down, damaging even their career. How the public opinion does not care about the evidences that prove the claims thrown in the media, but just accept them as if they are the absolute word of God. The same thing happening to MC at the start of the story.

On the other hand, it also shows how good and dangerous idealism can be, through the Ripper and Wesley. A duo who in their past did many good deeds for the people, but who can be so much influenced by idealism that they fail to see the consequences of the actions they take in doing good deeds. It can result in someone getting harmed. Their judgement can be clouded, making them fail to see reality for what it is.

Then you have the classic "We are all doing this. It's not good to be a snitch on your colleagues for breaking the law. You are a bad person if you go against the flow" shown in the Ripper's workplace where they are treating them not with the respect they rightfully deserve just because he exposed the corruption happening in that place. But such is expected from a society that has been turning a blind eye to crimes. In public they may tell you "We want justice and the criminals behind bars" but this is true (and they will support you) as long as you don't touch their interests/benefits.

For the sake of the ask not getting too long, I'm going to stop here with my ramblings, but I just wanted to say how much I appreciate the fact that you have chosen to share this story with us. I love the characters, with all their virtues and flaws, and I love the way how each time I go and replay the demo, new things are discovered. I hope you keep writing this story until the very end and that you take good care of your health💛

Hey, anon, this is probably the highest form of compliment I've ever gotten on this platform, and honestly? I've been reading this over and over for the entire day because I just felt so seen.

You've shared some thoughts here I never expected to see this early in the story, and I'm so grateful you made the effort to type it all out and send it to me because I've definitely been second-guessing myself in how I'm portraying certain scenes.

I mean, I'm autistic. It's hard for me to make my thoughts clear, and it's a lot harder for me to figure out if the readers are getting the information I want them to have and the conclusions I want them to form. And when I do make an effort to do just that, I get the realization that I begin to describe too much.

It's a flaw of mine that I'm confused what to do about sometimes, so I cannot emphasize enough that seeing my work be so clearly understood, so deeply analyzed, is really just, I don't know, I feel like gratifying is not enough of a word for this, but it might be the closest.

I also want you to remember what you yourself said about the idealism that Ripper and Wesley had, because that one paragraph now made me confident that a future revelation would not be wasted on at least one person :') It's... a nice feeling, to be honest.

I might just end up crying here if I keep going, so I'll stop here. Thank you again and I hope you'll have a good weekend! I hope you'll also see this through the end!

#OKAY I LIED AT THE LAST PART #I'M WAY TOO EMOTIONAL ALREADY #interactive fiction #interactive novel #hollowed minds series #cyoa #hollowed minds #choicescript #interactive game #wip #if wip #writing #hosted games #hollowed minds book one

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outsideratheart · 3 years

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I'll Always Come Back to You (Preath x Military!Reader)

Anon request: Hey love, could you write a preath x reader. With military!reader coming home to them both.Just pure fluff😢

3 months, that is how long your mission was supposed to take. Now here you were 7 months later still in Afghanistan.

Your job was very important and you were very proud of the work you did but it did have its downsides, the biggest one, being away from your girlfriends.

“How is it going? I mean I know you can’t tell us why but” Christen begins to mumble.

“Everything is going according to plan, I should be hope by the end of the month” You tell her.

“Really! That soon” You cannot help but smile at Christen’s smile, it was infectious.

But it was the sight of your other girlfriend that now had your attention.

“What’s the matter Tobs?” You ask as she clearly wasn’t as excited as Christen.

“Nothing” Tobin lies.

“Well I have just told you that I am coming home and you face looks like a brick wall”

“It’s just that…well…we have had this conversation before and I got excited the first and the second time even the third but now” Tobin doesn’t look at you instead she plays with her hands.

“Baby, look at me” you wait until she does so.

“I know it can be hard but I have a job to do which is bigger than me. It requires be to be away from you, both of you. I miss you both so much and I am doing everything in power to come home to you as soon as I can”

You look up just in time to see tears falling down Tobin’s face.

“We know it’s hard Y/N which just miss you is all” Christen tells you.

“So how is camp? We watched your came against Sweden, there’s nothing quite like watching my girls tear up the field” you say trying to change the subject.

“It’s going good, we finally nailed that set piece I was talking to you about the other day” Tobin says.

She goes on to describe the play in detail and you smile at her passion. You could listen to her talk about soccer all day.

“What?” She asks as she catches you staring.

“Nothing, I just love to see you smile” Tobin blushes at your compliment. You loved that you still had this power over her even it is from the other side of the world.

“Oh Y/N, I tried that yoga routine you recommended. I was so sore the next day I could hardly walk” Christen rolls her eyes at your smirk and Tobin’s giggle which she managed to cover with a cough.

“Don’t say it” She tells you.

“Sounds like I never left” You say smugly.

“Chris you practically set her up with that one” Tobin says playfully.

“Y/L/N time for briefing” Your hear someone say.

“Duty calls” you tell them “I love you both so much”

“I love you” Christen says.

“I love you” Tobin says.

“Please stay safe” They both say in unison.

You blow a kisses at the camera before ending the video call.

After the brief your sergeant asks you to stay back.

“I know you have been on base a little longer than expected and we appreciate the work you have been doing so we are releasing you from Duty. I have organised a flight for you, if you go pack now you might make it back for you girls’ game” He tells you.

You were finally able to go home and you will be able to surprise Christen and Tobin since they thought you would be back at the end of the month.

Your bags were packed and your were on the plane. In order to keep the homecoming a secret you would have to cancel a FaceTime with your girlfriends but it would be worth it in the end.

You send them both a text saying that you will be going dark for next 24 hours due to the mission to had.

20 hours later, you land in Houston. You look at your watch to see that that have an hour before kick off so you make your way to the game.

Meanwhile at the stadium Christen and Tobin are freaking out as they saw on the news that there was an explosion near the base you were staying in and they couldn’t get in touch you.

“I’m sure she is fine. You said that she was on mission so that means that she wasn’t on base” Alex says trying to calm them down.

“Something is wrong, I can feel it. Last time I felt like this Y/N had been shot” Christen said.

“Christen!” Tobin shouts “you can’t just say something like that”

Christen goes to Tobin and gives her a hug, whispering something in her ear that the rest of the team can’t hear.

“Right, listen up” Vlatko enters the locker room “Christen, Tobin I have seen the news and i want you both to know that you are excused from today’s game”

“I want to play” Christen says.

“Me too” Tobin agrees with her girlfriend.

Before going onto the pitch there is another news report saying that there were no casualties at the bombing so that put’s them at ease but your dark 24 hours were over and they still couldn’t get in touch with you.

You arrive at the game just as the referee blows the whistle and you cheer loudly as you see that both Christen and Tobin are starting.

The game is over before you know it. It was finally time be reunited with the loves of the life.

The players begin their walk around the stadium thanking the crowd, luckily Tobin and Christen are at the back which gives to the chance to get the attention of one of the other players.

It is Ash that sees you first and goes to one of the security guards letting you know that you are family and need to come to the locker room. He escorts you through the stadium, down the several corridors and then you see it. ‘Home Team Locker Room’.

The team had won so most of them were celebrating but not your girlfriends, they were checking their phones and you knew they were waiting for a text from you.

You stood in the doorway watching them for a moment. They were your everything and seeing them in person floods you with all kind of emotions. You don’t realise your crying until Alex passes you a tissue. Turns out everyone had noticed your presence, everyone but the two people you wanted to see you.

“They’re all yours” Ash tells you patting you on the back.

You hear Christen telling Tobin to try calling you one more time and you see your opportunity. You get your phone out of your pocket and turn it on.

Your phones goes off seconds later and your answer it.

“Y/N! You finally answered, please tell me you are ok?” Christen says and you smile at her concern.

“How about you turn around to see for yourself” You tell her.

Christen runs to you, jumps into your arms and you catch her spinning her around.

“I can’t believe you’re here” She says as she places a kiss on your lips.

“She’s really missed you, it has been harder on her this time” Christen tells you signalling to Tobin who is still in her locker staring at you in disbelief.

You place christen on the ground, taking her hand in your as you go to Tobin.

“Am I dreaming because I have had this dream before, you come home then I wake up and your gone again” She tells you.

“I’m here baby” you say.

She stands and kisses you, this one more passionate than the one you shared with Christen which surprises you. Normally Tobin shied away from PDA but not today.

“I really missed that” you say pulling away.

“I have missed you so much Y/N” She says with tears in her eyes.

The rest of the team stand in shock, they have never seen Tobin this vulnerable.

“I hate to break up this reunion but it’s time to go back to hotel” Becky tells you and you, Tobin and Christen frown. “Oh no, I don’t mean it like that. Y/N can obviously come with us”

The ride back to the hotel took too long for your liking. You just wanted to get back so that you could have some alone time with your girlfriends.

As soon as you arrived the three of you politely declined team meal which everyone full understood.

You got to the hotel room and quickly got a shower to freshen up whilst Christen and Tobin got changed. When you came out your were wearing some shorts and a sports bra.

“Those pictures you sent really didn’t do you justice” You blushed at Christen’s statement remembering sending those photos to her.

You lay on the bed between Tobin and Christen and Tobin begins scanning your body and you knew exactly what she was doing.

“This one is new” she says pointing to a scar on your leg then placing a kiss on it.

“So is this one” christen says and she copies what Tobin did.

You had several new scars, none no bigger than a quarter but your girlfriends were very observant.

“We’re not playing this game, despite how much I love where it is leading”

Tobin hold her hands up in defence.

“We just worry” Christen tells you.

“I know you do”

You kiss her forehead and then kiss Tobin’s.

“Is that a new hoodie?” You ask Tobin.

“It is” she replies.

You look at her giving her your best puppy dog eyes. You loved Tobin’s clothes and often stole them.

You watch her take her hoodie off and give it to you.

“It’s smells just like you” you say as you put it on “thank you” you kiss her cheek.

You lay between your girlfriends as you all watch a film. These are the moments you missed, when it was just the three of you.

“We’re really happy you’re home” christen tells you.

“I’ll always come back you”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt one shot #uswnt imagine #christen press x reader #christen press imagine #christen press one shot #Tobin Heath x reader #Tobin Heath imagine #Tobin Heath one shot #preath x reader #preath one shot #preath imagine

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forestlingincorporated · 3 years

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I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People.

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them.

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent.

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.)

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction.

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children.

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically.

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation.

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear.

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect.

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?)

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but...

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7.

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.)

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics.

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two.

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about.

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural.

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries.

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance.

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other.

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent.

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart.

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist.

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well.

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child.

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive.

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you.

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt.

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh...

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating?

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting.

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t.

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so.

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet.

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom.

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.

#Tim Drake #janet drake #jack drake #robin #Red Robin #character analysis

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styx1an · 3 years

Text

A Chat about Chat

A short fic about how Chat came to be a singular being, written by yours truly. By all means, this isn’t canon, it’s just my interpretation of things.

Word count: 1,863

Fandom: RTGame, Miitopia (NGL I’m a little displeased with how I wrote the ending, but oh well!)

You know, there is this odd sense of irony in knowing how terrified Chat was of Magical John when they aren’t even human nor a singular being in the first place. Wait, so you didn’t know? Of how they became such a being in the first place? (They chuckle.) Then I suppose that means I’ll have to tell you their story. Well then, shall we begin the tale of Chat? (You see the twinkle in their eyes. They must’ve been waiting a while to be able to do this.)

> You nod. You’ve been waiting a while to understand Chat’s origins. Tonight, like many others, belongs to the storyteller.

> You shake your head. No thanks, you think you’re too tired. Dawn shall rise anew soon, and you will not waste your time with tall tales.

(They nod, pleased with your decision.) Then I shall begin to relay their tale.

Our tale begins in the vast lands known as Twitch, a domain that belongs to another, a far crueler being whose tale is for another time. It is a place where one is free to express their opinions and whatnot (as long as it suits the many whims of its Amazonian overlords, of course), and many are versed in the easy to learn, but difficult to master art of gaming. Many such masters have gained a large following, and even if they do not possess such skill, more often than not their humor and charisma paves the way to fame.

One example of the latter would be RTGame, a man of sizable repute. Aside from the frankly ridiculous story of the origin of his moniker, he is also known for doing some… questionable things for the sake of entertainment. There are still tales of his quest in the bathtub along with Gilbert (yes, the very same Gilbert on the quest to defeat The Darker Lord Khadgar!), the night of the Painted Wall’s Communion, the birth of Mr. Compost- But my dear, we are here for one of his lesser-known exploits, one that would change the world as we know it.

> You lean closer to the campfire, watching the storyteller with a renewed interest. Where does the tale lead? Where does it end? You need to know.

> It’s getting even later. You think some rest will be needed before tomorrow’s travels begin. Perhaps the rest of the story can wait another time?

It was a dark and stormy night. The then-Dark Lord Von Karma had just been unleashed upon the land, and I Want Die set along the path of salvation with his fellow party members, Mr. Bean the Warrior, Goofy the Thief, and Mint the Horse. He was pleased with the ease with which they vanquished monsters and saved (literal) faces, but the lack of actual conversation within the party had begun to get to him. Mr. Bean had nothing to offer other than a simple “Bean!” every now and then, and Goofy terrified him with all the “hyuck!” and talks of absolving the world’s many sins. Mint is a horse and therefore cannot participate in a verbal conversation unless you happen to understand what her neighs meant. She also happens to be the most normal member of the party, strangely enough.

Either way, I Want Die longed for a proper conversation.

And God took notice.

It was inevitable. The fourth party member was always going to join, whether he wanted one or not. It shouldn’t be notable in any way whatsoever, yet here I am regaling this tale to you.

It is not how Chat had come to join the party that I wanted to explain, but rather how they came to be.

Do you remember the man I had called RTGame? I hope you had not thought of him as irrelevant to our tale, as he is the patron saint of I Want Die’s adventures. Surely you know of the vast armory that belongs to the party? The various delicacies fed to the team? All his work. Along with his followers’ contributions, of course.

Chat was what he called his followers, the ones who watched his various endeavors as he traveled across the land of Twitch. Oftentimes the crowd would conversate with him (hence their name), offering jokes and sardonic commentary whenever he did anything remotely comedic. Other times, RT would have to tell them off for being such a rowdy bunch- the usual group of thousands could never keep quiet for long.

It happened that Chat witnessed I Want Die’s pilgrimage along with RTGame. They all looked upon him with a jolly sense of humor (after all, their master is well-versed in the art of comedy), some wondering where his travels will bring him. The others who knew how it would all end kept silent at the behest of RTGame. Either way, every single one of them was enjoying the show he had put on for them.

And came the time to summon the fourth member.

As per usual, RTGame withdrew into his workshop, closing the curtains around him so no curious onlooker could see inside. But that did not stop Chat from yelling their predictions and demands.

“EDGEWORTH” one cried.

Another begged for a certain “End Mii!”

“CHAT CALM DOWN!”

“!uptime”

“69420toesucker just subscribed for 5 months!”

“TURG”

RTGame smiled at them. He wasn’t surprised at all at their reactions, rather it was something he had hoped would happen.

“Alright then Chat,” he said, “here they are!”

His pale, thin hands reached out to open the curtains-

And unveiled a faceless, empty husk of a being.

Under any other circumstances, Chat would’ve rioted, demanded justice against the irony of sending a faceless doll to retrieve the faces of others. But they had no time.

Almost in an instant, the skies darkened. Clouds swirled up above with vibrant shades of violet, cobalt, magenta. Bright blue lightning strikes a tree and dissolves it into dust. Somewhere distant, something roars. The air feels thick- something magical, something electric is positively buzzing. Magic truly is in the air.

And thunder strikes once again.

The crowd is gone.

Silence fell. All that is left is the master and the doll, no longer an empty husk.

> You look up to the storyteller, their eyes reflecting the blazing flames. You have a feeling that you know how this ends, but you’d rather have them confirm it first.

> You’re sleepy. As tempting as it is to continue listening to their story, you must admit that the very idea of slumber is even more tantalizing.

RTGame had managed to do exactly what he wanted. Chat’s consciousness, placed inside of a single, physical being. A puppet controlled by a hivemind would not be very easy to control, yes. But the idea intrigued him. And wouldn’t it be better than having a large gaggle of people constantly behind him, watching his every move? It could help I Want Die on his journey too.

So it is settled. It happened that one of the members of his temple had just crafted a rather nice puppet, in case RT needed one. And he did come to use it. It does look a little plain, as both body and head are painted in the same shade of bright white. However, the face was not white like how it was in the beginning, but a disturbingly pitch-black space. No, that’s not the right word.

Rather, it was like a void had formed. That’s also not the right phrase to describe it either, as there were drops of ichor dripping down onto the ground, dissolving the once green grass. But I digress.

Chat broke the silence that had fallen between them, wailing as a cacophony of noises and emotions spilled out. Despite what RT had done to them, they were still determined to voice their opinions. Quite in character, really.

“RT WHAT”

“NO NO NO”

“!uptime”

“I'M ON TV!!!”

“bazingabanana just gifted 5 subs!”

“that’s kinda meta”

As their voices grew louder, ichor kept pouring out of the void. As expected, RT thought to himself. He still needs to act fast. So with a quick snap, he fastened a wooden mask the temple-goer made; the same shade of white, a pair of beady black eyes almost as dark and soulless as the void, bright purple ears.

The yelling and complaining didn’t stop of course. Still, as their voices were muffled by the mask, it was an arguably better experience than the previous ear-splitting wails. And it was less deadly too. Ichor had stopped dripping down onto the grass, which meant that the constant sizzling would finally stop.

Now, one last thing.

RT stared into Chat’s eyes.

This in itself wouldn’t have been quite a remarkable action had it been anyone else, but it’s Chat that we are talking about. The very sensation of doing something as simple as gazing into a hivemind’s many souls wasn’t anything ordinary, either.

It felt like you had just plunged one of your hands into ice-cold water in the middle of winter and not only are you freezing, you’re scared and you don’t know whether you’d come out in one piece.

They all stared back. Thousands and thousands looked upon RT, all different yet whispering the same things, each claiming to be an individual yet virtually nothing distinctive belongs to them. A true hivemind. It’s exactly what he wanted, but he wondered if perhaps other troubles would arise.

He let himself go from their gazes. It asks too much of him.

“Alright then, Chat. Ready?”

A gaggle of voices reply, sounding their agreements.

“OK then!”

I Want Die finally opened the inn door, after convincing himself that he’d like this new friend. That this one would be neither an anime villain, a comedy star or a horse. Someone with actual rational thoughts and words to speak.

In front of the door stood a short figure, clad in a purple mage’s robes. Their pitch-black eyes looked at I Want Die, and a chorus of voices came from their permanent smile:

“Hi, I’m Chat!”

And I Want Die wondered if he had forgotten to cross off ‘hivemind’ off his list of potential party members.

Chat’s introduction ends here, of course. But not their tale. The journey was far from over in fact. The party had yet to meet the Royal Court, witnessed the court’s love affair, or get kidnapped by the Dark Lord Von Karma. Even the party wasn’t complete, as it was only the first party I Want Die would encounter in his tale of redemption.

And it’s not the only story either. You haven’t heard of Magical John’s past life, or how Cupcake isn’t as pure as she seems. Gilbert’s fear of the kitchen. How Jefferson came to be, and Obama’s past life with Mr. Bean.

But I’m afraid I must stop here, for it is late already, is it not? Our journey must continue tomorrow. Let us rest. Goodnight, may the stars shine for you. (They head off into their tent, leaving you alone with the flickering embers of a dying fire.)

> You bid the storyteller goodnight. Perhaps they’ll tell you another one of their stories, underneath the moonlight once more.

#rtgame #magical john #well i wrote! dont like how the latter half was written but ok #miitopia #writing #rtgamecrowd

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phoebe-delia · 3 years

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Phoebes did you notice that most of the song prompts are odd numbers? I just think it's kind of neat! But for some lovely chaos in the stats, let us please have song no. 10? Also your doing this is a wonderful gift to the world and I adore you so so so so much

@rockingrobin69, Robin, my darling, hello. First of all, I'd noticed that the first ten or so were mostly odd numbers, but after you pointed it out, I realized how many odd-numbered ones I'd done! How funny. Also, before I get to tell you what song you've selected, I want to say that you and your writing are the true gifts and the feeling is very much mutual, my love. I cannot thank you enough for your constant love, support, and friendship. I absolutely adore you. <3

Another funny thing, Robin, is that you've managed to now select two out of my top three all-time favorite songs by Taylor Swift. (song prompt 3 was, ironically, my 3rd favorite TS song: "it's time to go.") But here, you've requested song 10, which is my number 1 favorite Taylor song of all time: "All Too Well."

The trouble is, I've already written one fic to this before. But no matter! I will persevere. This is technically a sequel to the original fic, but you don't have to have read it to understand this one! It is highly likely when the 10-minute version of All Too Well comes out that I will write a fic to that, but since it's not out yet, here's this. CW: post-breakup, potion/substance addiction, bad coping mechanisms, potions overdose; but there's a hopeful/happy ending!

Paralytici Memorias means "paralyzed memories" in Latin, if Google Translate is to be believed. And finally, an enormous, gigantic thank you to my big sis @avenueofesc for making this coherent and much better.

It wasn't a substitute by any means. It would never replace what it was made to mimic. In some ways, it was hopelessly inadequate.

But it was all he had: just the potion and his memories. If Draco's mind insisted on torturing him by reliving the best moments of his life in sepia-toned images, at least this way he could delay the crushing reality a little while longer.

Paralytici Memorias was his greatest triumph and biggest mistake. At first, he blamed it on completing his due diligence; every good potioneer should know and test the effects of their potion.

But then one test turned into two. Before he knew it, Draco spent the better part of his days coming in and out of deep periods of sleep, reaching for the vial every time his eyes opened to the sight of his empty flat, his engagement band on the coffee table next to him.

He wondered what Astoria would say if she could see him now. If their current level of communication as soon-to-be-weds was any indication, their marriage contract was more of a business venture than a romantic one.

After all, as long as he had a pulse, sperm for insemination, and a sound enough mind to sign over half his vaults, he'd have done his duty as her future husband as far as she was concerned.

"You'll forget about me, I promise."

His own words—written on the parchment he'd sent off with his owl before he could stop himself—were burned into his memory. He still remembered the searing pain in his chest as he promised the love of his life that what they'd had could be forgotten. In breaking Harry's heart, and in shattering his own, his only consolation was knowing that Harry would be happy eventually; that Harry would move on and find someone with the freedom to love him the way he deserved, someone who could offer the intangible riches in which Draco had always been impoverished.

As he reached for the vial that afternoon, it was to remind himself of the priceless love he sold for the price of his heart.

The potion’s effect was hazier than a Pensieve, but this way he could see the memories from his own point of view; could relive it in his own skin. Still, his mind couldn't do justice to Harry's eyes, the bright sound of his laughter, the warmth of his skin.

They were in Harry's car, the name of which Draco had never bothered to learn, too terrified and fascinated by the contraption. He yelped when Harry took a hand off the wheel to grab Draco's shaking one in a reassuring squeeze.

"Hands on the wheel, Potter!"

"I've got it under control, love. You watched me put the protection spells on the car myself, and it would be perfectly safe even without them. I promise I won't let anything happen to you," Harry said without an ounce of condescension.

Draco exhaled shakily, "If you say so."

"I do. Now, why don't you tell me a little more about where we're going?"

"Have you forgotten already? Honestly, Potter, your memory is abysmal."

"I haven't forgotten. I just like hearing you talk."

Draco valiantly didn't blush. And while he described the beauty of the Cotswolds, he found himself mesmerized at the red and orange leaved trees that lined the road as they drove out of the city and into the peaceful countryside, with its steady beeping noise.

Wait…that wasn't right. Why was it beeping?

"Potter, there's something wrong with the car."

"Draco?"

He squeezed his eyes shut tight before he opened them, blinking as the unfamiliar room came into focus. He could feel his pulse pounding in his head as his mind raced in a heady mix of confusion and anxiety. What happened? Why wasn't he in his flat?

"You're in St. Mungos."

Draco's head nearly snapped as he turned to look at a pale-faced Harry sitting in the chair next to his bed. Near Harry stood an unfamiliar woman scribbling on a clipboard. She reached over onto a side table and handed Draco a paper cup. The water was cool, a relief for his parched, sandpaper throat.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel?" She asked after he handed the cup back to her.

Draco closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. "My head is killing me and I'm dizzy, but I'm okay. What happened?"

"Your fiancée found you unconscious in your flat. We completed a blood test and couldn't match the substance to anything we know—"

"I invented it," Draco grumbled. "Where is Astoria? Harry, what are you doing here?"

The healer pressed her lips together. "I'll leave you to gather yourself for a few minutes, but I'll be back soon to ask you more about that potion, and next steps from there, alright?"

Draco nodded. "Thank you, Healer...?"

She smiled. "I'm Healer Rostova. Press that pager if you need something, but otherwise, I'll be back in a little while." With that, she left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Draco turned to Harry, who regarded him with wide, worried eyes. "What happened? Why are you here?"

Harry bit his lip. "Astoria found you unconscious on your couch. She brought you here and then she, well...She called me."

"She—what?"

"She called me. She said you were in the hospital, and I didn't really think much beyond Apparating here."

"Why did she call you?"

"She said you were...talking in your sleep."

Draco blushed. "Oh."

"Yeah," Harry let out a humorless, breathy chuckle. "She figured it out, I think. She said to tell you that she's having her parents terminate the contract."

Draco closed his eyes, letting his head thud against the headboard and then instantly regretting it, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain. "Great. I bet Mother's furious."

"She'll come around."

"You don't know that. You don't know her."

"No, I don't, but hopefully she'll want you to do what makes you happy."

Draco clenched his jaw and looked away. "Happiness is easier to manage when it's artificial. I ran away from the only thing that ever brought me close to real happiness. I can't handle it."

"Then let's manage it together."

Draco closed his eyes, kept his head turned.

"Draco, look at me."

Slowly, Draco forced himself to look at Harry, opening his eyes to let the other man see the tears beginning to well.

Harry's expression was as pained, yet kind. "Do you have any idea how agonizing it has been to miss you?"

Draco's chest seized, sharp with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought it was what's best for both of us, I—"

"Shhh," Harry leaned forward, rubbing a soothing hand over Draco's. "We'll make it okay. We'll figure this out together, alright?"

Draco kept his eyes open, let himself enjoy happiness in full color. "Okay. Together."

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #draco and harry #harry and draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #cw: addiction #cw: post breakup #angst with a happy ending #hpdm #drarry squad

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extravalgant · 3 years

Text

the seven main schools (+ astral & shadow) as flowers

NOTE: i did not dive too deep into researching for this and most of the information i got for this post i got from this site . please dont come after me if i get a meaning wrong IM TRYING MY BEST!!! moving on

this is going to be a LONG POST so sit tight

myth - clematis (also known as traveller’s joy, old man’s beard)

i chose clematis mainly for its meaning: representing artifice, ingenuity and mental beauty. i think part of being a conjurer means that the world is only as big as you make it, and part of it is utilizing your imagination to its fullest extent. mental beauty and ingenuity go hand in hand with being creative, but artifice, in this flower symbolism, means to be cunning or be deceitful. i also think this comes from cyrus drake also being your teacher, which means he would teach in a style that would want you to exploit the weaknesses of the creatures that you summon (that being, calling their true name) in order for them to do your bidding.

“Myth dwells between Fire and Ice, for that is where the shadows lie, and Myths are the shadowy forms of thought made real.”

storm - gladiolus (also known as a sword lily)

urgh.... storm was such a hard school to choose a flower for @_@ according to the wizard101 site storm is also based on creativity, but since we already had that sort of meaning attached to myth, i decided to go with the next best thing which is that gladiolus represents strength, strong character, honor and moral integrity. i feel like it’s pretty well known fact that storm is a hitting school, and a pretty well known one at that - their reputation as a power school is pervasive through all wizarding circles. i feel like this is also where a diviner’s sense of pride comes from - being able to one-hit ko enemies and brandish your power proudly.

amazingly enough, the wizard101 site also addresses this, saying that, “the Storm School will train its student wizards to do a lot of damage. Storm Wizards have the ability to unleash high amounts of damage from an early level, which is good, but they place too much emphasis on power, and therefore suffer in terms of accuracy.”

placing too much emphasis on power... very interesting indeed

death - papaver (poppy)

death was ALSO a super hard school to pick a flower for. i debated between the dracula, the poppy, and the spider lily before deciding to settle with the poppy. I chose poppies in particular because “Poppies have long been used as a symbol of sleep, peace, and death: Sleep because the opium extracted from them is a sedative, and death because of the common blood-red color of the red poppy in particular.” source

I FEEL AS IF THE SPIDER LILY WOULD HAVE BEEN TOO EASY OF A CHOICE but i wanted to encompass all the meanings that death has and has been associated with. some people associate death with peace (at being in a “”better place””), and some people sometimes to describe it as “sleeping” to a younger audience with no death awareness. also heres a nice little excerpt from the w101 site: “Death is about ending and closure. All things pass eventually, and time cannot be held back forever. Wizards devoted to Death Magic, known as Necromancers, understand this fact about everything around them and strive to face it without fear.”

ice - magnolia

as soon as i saw this flower and its description it was PERFECT for ice. magnolias represent longevity and perseverance, due to the fact that magnolias are believed to have existed even at the beginning of time. the ice schools main theme is about persistance - which is to say, that if you’re patient and determined, you will collect the fruits of your labor in the end.

the school page even says this, noting that “The Ice School will train its student wizards to take high amounts of damage and survive.” To thaumaturges, it is simply about surviving to see the end of the battle, and that’s what their play style involves. both magnolias and thaumaturges have that in common : persist and survive.

fire - ixora (also known as jungle flame, flame of the woods)

it was also hard choosing a plant for fire, seeing as so many plants can be described as “passionate” in a symbolic sense. it was between this and orange tulips, but i felt that both the names “jungle flame” and “flame of the woods” both fit fire’s theme. that being said, ixora’s represent passion - the core of fire’s development and description. it is the “bright, burning flame of raw emotion sweeping over everything.” (w101)

fire wizards mainly utilize damage over time spells, which reminds me that a frog boiling in a pot will leap immediately out of the water if its too hot, but will stay until it dies if the water’s temperature reaches steadily. while fire’s general message are that it may consume everything it touches, and how pyromancers are quick to anger and tempestuous, fire plays the longer game by slow roasting their enemies until it is too late for them.

balance - cosmos

when i saw this flower and its meanings there was literally no chance any other flower could compare omg

balance is described as finding the equality of everything and harmony. they are described as broad-minded, taught to be considerate of all things, as well as their own place in the world they live in. cosmos, in this case, represent order, peace, modesty and harmony -- all things which are important to a balance wizard. balance thrives in the company of others, simply because it was made in mind to help others in the heat of battle. “The Balance School will train its student wizards to be effective in group play.” (w101)

however as a result, they may appear as stand-offish and impassive, unable to choose a side or make a choice. such is life when you’re raised to consider all factors of every choice you make - every decision feels heavy.

life - achillea (also known as yarrow)

named after the greek hero achilles, legends would say that his soldiers would treat their wounds with this. source

i chose achillea for life simply for the fact that it represents healing and protection, as well as it being used it being a versatile plant used to treat a variety of maladies or sicknesses - it’s been used as a medicinal plant for a long time across the world.

life embodies “the spirit, the force of awareness and existence. It is about constant growth and movement.” (w101). theurgists are described as having simple pleasures in life, in revelling in the idea of the living, breathing, planet around you. it utilizes the song of creation, using it to weave life where there was none previously. it definitely has powerful roots in the canon storyline - i just wish it was utilized more through its play style.

(astral) star - aster (also known as starwort, frost flower)

ok i dont have a deep meaning for this im sorry . i mainly chose aster simply because “aster” is derived from the Greek word “astron”, which means “star”, and because of the shape of its flowers. pretty simple reason but ill try my best to do it justice

however, aster is represented by patience and elegance -- star magic may be a lesser form of sun magic, simply because it is meant to power yourself rather than your spells. i think theres something inherently elegant about an aura wrapping itself around your figure, bending to the whim of your spells, as it both enhances your health or your spells.

(astral) sun - datura (also known as devil’s trumpet)

Datura symbolizes power and caution. It is a powerful and deadly plant, but also a major religious and cultural symbol.

i chose datura’s for sun because sun is all about power -- datura is highly poisonous and very dangerous to be around. the main deal of the sun school is that they use spells to make their own stronger - it has the “power to endure, power to persevere, and power to change”. we don’t get much of a canon explanation for how sun magic works outside of battles, but i imagine that you have to be careful with sun magic, because as we know - absolute power corrupts absolutely. aint that neat

(astral) moon - protea

protea’s represent ingenuity, diversity, transformation and courage. a big part of moon magic is that it is all about change. changing your spells, your body, your thoughts -- it is symbolized by the moon because it goes through many changes (the tides, the phases of the moon, etc).

i feel as if moon magic might be one of the harder magics to master out of all the astral schools - the transformation into something else may not come as easy as star auras, or that it simply may be too hard on the caster in question, having to change their physical appearances and battle tactics to fit into a new one.

shadow - rhododendron

rhododendron’s represent temptation, caution and danger.

despite how pretty it looks, the stems, leaves, and flowers can be poisonous to humans and pets if ingested. i feel as if that describes shadow perfectly -- the pleasant sight of these pretty flowers is enough to entice a person (wizard) forward, but you must be careful with how you handle this plant, or else you will end up facing dire consequences. (backlash)

shadow magic as a whole can be very tempting to those who seek it -- offering power that scales above others. but it is an advanced magic, and those who seek to play with it often end up paying the price with their lives (in this case, morganthe was crushed underneath the weight of power that shadow gave her). shadow can give you an upper hand, however, if used right -- and the wizard, for the most part, is using it right.

shadow is mainly a cautionary tale of not playing with higher, advanced, magics with the wrong intentions.

#wizard101 #w101 #girl how do i even tag this #i just like to play around with meta xd #also these are just some of my opinions please dont come at me #however if you disagree id love to see a post or explanation in the comments >:333 #i simply love... flower language and assigning symbolic meanings to plants and flowers #this took so long to type up . please look at it . the fruits of my labors #long post #LETS HOPE I DIDNT FORGET A SCHOOL OMG #if someone already did a post like this i will die straight up

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the-fae-folk · 3 years

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How to Build a World?

Some time ago, I answered a writing question as Quoth the Raven that dealt with how to go about Worldbuilding for your story (Found Here). I’ve now rewritten the piece because I was struck with inspiration for a much more poetic form. I rather like it this way... ______________________________________________________________ Every story has to start somewhere. Some start with an endless void, a dark abyss where spirits drift over the waters, an egg which has not yet hatched to reveal the universe contained within. But in my opinion the best beginnings are found on a blank page.

Sing an ode to the whiteness of a screen, to the sterile form of an unfilled notebook amidst a pile of notebooks you keep buying but never write in. I call upon thee, oh Muses, let the divine speak into the shadows and let there be light. Fountains may spring up from the deeps and the oceans pay homage to the moon above. I am but a humble supplicant to the gods of paper and ink, where multiverses of verse and prose are crafted from words alone.

A world must be made through the number seven. Seven days, seven dwarfs, seven epochs, seven sins, seven virtues, seven founding principles of building a world.

The First is of Magic. All worlds begin with magic in a way. You can call it by any name you desire; Nature, physics, deity. First a word is spoken, a rule, a way of being. Whether the universe is filled with blinding empty light and shaded to sight by suns of shadow and fires that burn black enough to repel the light of night, or if the endless skies are oceans where planets drift in bubbles of air and stars keep the endless ice of the galactic abyss at bay with their warmth.

It is a question of how your world works, a list of rules that cannot be broken by even you as the rest of the pieces fall into place. A willing suspension of disbelief is a fragile thing. If it breaks, you are dashed to pieces beneath the weight of fallen expectations. A reader betrayed is rarely forgiving to those who have broken their own laws.

So write, write of the shifting of stars and the fundamental forces of love and duty. In your canon proclaim the laws of wind and gravity, atoms of justice, and the blessed radiation of whimsy and wonder.

But once you have finished, and the last law carved upon the last stone atop your own Sinai, you must heed them always. From gods to grains of sand on a distant shore, none can break these commandments.

When you speak a second time, it is of Place. Of mountains and mayhem, of vast oceans where secrets lie forgotten far beneath the waves.

Reach out your hand to carve canyons from the paragraphs on the page, riverbeds that flow swift and pure into great lakes and down into silent aquifers below the very earth itself. Whether one sun, or seven, or none at all, this world must be made known through careful descriptions and prose.

And as long as it does not contradict your rules, you can have islands that fly through the skies, glass rain, giant geodic structures that have never seen the light of a single day. What of glaciers that chill the whole land into an ice age? Or a supervolcano that belches molten glass from its summit?

Then, as your world is forming, think on the third principle of building a world. Life.

Deep down in the depths of the darkest seas you might form creatures so alien they defy the very mind, drifting on currents and living without sun or sky, only in eternal shadow and crushing pressure. Or you may begin on land instead, with green skinned goblin-like folk who live among the trees and speak in song and melody as they hunt the fire breathing dragonflies. Perhaps even the sky might be your dominion. Pods of whales that swim among the clouds, blowing geysers of wind high into the abyss of blue and white that turns to stars at the highest heights.

Each living thing lies in connection with one another. Eating, growing, changing, moving. Flowers make bioluminescence in forever darkened woods and caverns. Gas filled balloon-like pods could carry creatures high into the sky with them, letting them escape from predators.

Here and now your pen is the fountain that begets creation, your mind is the tree from which all life springs. This world is your garden to cultivate, your Eden cradled between life giving rivers.

Wherever you touch there will be life. In the most scorching of deserts, in the deepest caves and wells, in the furthest canyons, upon the coldest glaciers. And as long as you remain true to your rules of reality, your world can take even the most whimsical of forms. Trees whose roots tangle among the clouds and whose boughs hang down towards the distant earth below, people who can see colors that neither you nor I have ever heard of. Each new thing makes your world more complex, more real, more connected.

Perhaps you know what comes next? In truth it has already begun, for your fourth is of Cognition.

It may be that somewhere in your world there is a creature or plant, perhaps many, or even all, who have tasted that forbidden fruit and became more than they were, became aware that their eyes had been closed and for the first time knew that they could open them and look.

What might it be like? To look out at the world and for the first time see it anew? Before there was survival and safety, food and mating. There was no time for beauty, no time for dreaming, no time for such things when every moment was needed. Yet at some point, there was time, and someone stopped to look. And everything changed.

Most creators prefer the humanoid form when building cognizant peoples, though not all, some few might choose different shapes. Plant, reptile, insect, or even stranger forms the likes of which might not be found here in our world, but only in that world of their making.

But the shape isn’t the important thing. No, what is vitally important is the manner of cognizance. How is it that your people understand the world? What are they aware of? What things can they hear? Or touch? Taste? See? Smell? Or perhaps they have senses that can only be described in roundabout ways to readers who will never entirely understand what it is to perceive in such ways, like blind men who try to know what it is like to see.

Now it is time at last for your fifth. This is the culmination of all things thus far, the laws of reality, the geography, the life, the cognizant peoples… Your fifth is Culture.

Peoples gather together. They make laws to protect or to divide, to ensure and ensnare. They farm or hunt for food, creating new ways with new generations. And best of all they tell stories. Oh those stories. These are the things of which culture is made. Stories that are woven into tapestries or painted into murals, songs are composed to evoke the emotions of such stories, even food is cooked to be eaten as the stories are told.

But there are other things which can affect your peoples and persons. Where do they get their clothing? Animal hides or plant fibers? Perhaps wool or cotton? And how is it obtained? Technology? Magic? Labor? Do the people even wear clothing at all? For some might not find it necessary if they are perfect for the place they dwell in their world.

What foods can they eat? Would you or I even recognize it? Let alone be able to digest it without agonizing pains in our stomachs? A fruit that glows might transfer its glow to those who eat it, giving them light to see in the dark and energy to live another day. Certain beasts are only slaughtered on certain days of the star calendars, for festivals and holy feast days, for ceremonial reasons and never secular ones.

Here is the most dangerous part in your journey, for the building of culture can become a mire or a maze, a labyrinthine pit from whence you can never escape no matter how much you build. Every detail begets another, and cultures are more than any one person can make. World Builder though you are, you still have limitations of your own.

So you look to the sixth, which is history. From whence did they come? And where do their journeys go? And of course, what happened at every step in between? Kings and emperors to the feuds of petty farmers. Did the dragons lay claim to the seven clawed mountains in the forty ninth century or did the Arch Astronomer falsely claim they did so that he might turn his people’s thoughts to southern trade?

Culture takes time to move and once it begins it will not stop. From the grand world point of view to the shortsightedness of individuals, each and every step will be important. Religions and wars, cataclysmic events, heroes, and even plagues. Everything that arises when you add time to the world you have created is history. The world is a living breathing thing that will move on its own if you let it.

The seventh day arrives. Some deities might rest, seeing that all is good. But not you, for your world is made in slavish worship to the Story. A world built so that it might contain, for good or ill, a tale of your telling.

So write, prideful one. Your hubris has driven you to follow in the footsteps of the gods themselves, building a world where before was nothing. It is time to look closer, to follow a single strand of thread in this tapestry you have woven from dreams and shadows.

Now that you have crafted for us an entire world, tell us your tale. We are listening.

#quoth the raven #writing #worldbuilding #prose #worldbuilder #creation #worlds #7 #seven #rewrite #how to build a world

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wreckofawriter · 4 years

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Strawberries

Restaurant AU!

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Lewd language, swearing, a small mention of sexual harassment. tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: You hate being a waitress for rich assholes, but maybe the new line cook will make it a little better

A/n: this is for week three of my Cliche Month. Sorry for being inactive. I suck at time management and have no motivation.

You never aspired to be a waitress. You didn’t sit down in primary school on a ridiculously colorful rug and tell your underpaid depressed teacher that you wanted to wait on prestigious assholes and rich men who thought a 20 dollar tip bought them an ass grab. You never wanted to wait on entitled white women and spoiled brats. But shit happens.

“Yes ma’am I understand but that was last week’s special, we don’t serve it anymore.”

The woman rolled her eyes, “I don’t think you do understand. I said I want the sea bass, just have them make the sea bass.”

You bit back cusses, “I am very sorry ma’am but we don’t have the ingredients in the kitchen to make a sea bass. I can recommend our halibut it’s severed with a delicious mango chutney and-”

“Shut up about the mango crap. She said she wants a seabass, give her a seabass.” The man who sat on the opposite side of the table spoke.

Your smile almost faltered, “Sir, we don’t have sea bass.”

“Then get some.” The man huffed, “There are plenty of stores around.”

You had already taken the fork beside him and jabbed him in the eye in your mind four times, “I am terribly sorry sir, we cannot do that.”

The look on his face could only be described as disgust, “I would like to speak to your supervisor.”

You took in a deep breath, “Sir, he will not say any different.”

“Now girl.” He snapped, his wife’s smirk making you want to smash her champagne glass over her head.

“I will be right back.” You forced a smile, notebook flipping shut as you turned, the click of your heels disappearing into the chatter of diners. You almost rubbed your tired eyes only to remember the makeup which coated them and dropped your hands back to your side. You walked towards the pass of the kitchen, the smell of fish and meats becoming stronger as waiters weaved around you.

“Denzel.” You called, the man in question turning towards you.

He raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Can you pretend to be my supervisor?” You asked, “Some idiots still want to order the sea bass.”

“I’m assuming you told them that was last week's special.” He spoke as you began to lead him back to the couple.

“Multiple times.” you sighed.

He nodded smiles finding both of your faces as you stood in front of the table.

“How can I help you both tonight?” He spoke, his voice dramatically shifting tones.

The woman went on to explain your complete incompetence just to hear your friend restate everything you had. She eventually ordered the halibut.

Denzel left thanking them for their cooperation as you went on to take the man's order and pretending not to hear his wife calling you a bitch as you walked away.

You wanted to be a journalist, a warrior of justice. You wanted to expose the one percent, shattering their ivory towers with a mallet of words.

Instead, you served them halibut and ribeyes with a smile as fake as their trophy wives tits.

James had fallen in love with many things in his life but cooking had been the most prevalent. Most hobbies were tossed out windows, they became phases, leaving nothing but footprints in his life. But cooking had been different. Since he was five years old and would hop onto a stepping stool to peer into the cast-iron pan his mother would be sauteing in he had been hooked. By age 10 he was making things like meatballs and stroganoff. At fourteen he began to engage in more complicated dishes and by the time he hit culinary school he was easily the best in class.

Now as he washed his hundredth dish of the night he wondered if all of that love had been for absolutely nothing. When applying for a line cook position at one of the most prestigious restaurants in London he definitely didn’t expect to be stuck as a dishwasher.

James’ hands felt raw from scrubbing, his apron soaked with warm water and unscented soap. His feet were aching in his shoes, his jealousy for those putting together the night’s last desserts burning hot.

He ignored his anger and pushed on, washing plate after plate just to place them into an industrial-sized dishwasher which was supposed to thoroughly clean the dishes which he already spent hours scrubbing. Dessert plates and wine glasses seemed to replace every dinner plate he had washed, his work seeming endless as his coworkers said goodnight and walked out the back door.

It took James another hour to finish. He felt like he could pass out on the kitchen floor. His glasses were a greasy steamed mess as he pushed them back up his nose for the nth time that evening. He sighed out in a mix of exhaustion and relief untying his apron and preparing to leave.

“So you’re the newbie?”

James jumped letting out a small yelp as his heart leapt in his chest.

You let out a snort hand coming to cover your mouth, a poor attempt of hiding your giggles.

“You scared the shit out of me.” James huffed his glare only holding for a moment as you came into focus. Your hair was up in a reckless bun, your waitress uniform slightly crumpled, heels held in your left hand. Yet your cheeks seemed to be painted, the smirk your visage held tantalizing.

“I saw.” You snickered padding past him and dropping your shoes onto a counter with a small clink. You headed for the refrigerator, opening it and scorning over its contents. You finally settled on a container of cut strawberries, which were to be used as a garnish the next day, “You won’t tell will you?” You muttered peeling open the top and snatching a fork from the dishwasher.

James nodded, what for he wasn’t quite sure.

You jumped onto the counter spinning to face him, “Sooo, what’s your name?”

“Uhh, James, James Potter.” He said leaning back onto the sink.

“It’s very nice to meet you, James.” You grinned, “I’m y/n y/l/n.”

An awkward silence followed as you plopped a berry into your mouth, its flavor bursting as you side-eyed the man.

“You’re a line cook right?” You asked, legs swinging in front of you.

James pouted a bit, his cheeks puffing for a brief moment, “Well I’m supposed to be but so far all I’ve done is wash dishes and take out the trash.”

You hummed in understanding, swallowing fruit before speaking again, “They do that to every newbie. They want to make sure you can do the dirty work before they let you burn on the line.”

James started at you, “Really?”

You shrugged, “That’s how it’s always worked.”

“That’s a relief I thought I was going to be stuck doing this shit.” James relished in his found happiness feeling a bit more energized, “Hey what are you doing back here anyway, didn’t most of the waitresses leave like an hour ago?”

“I just had to see if the new cook was as attractive as all the girls said he was.” You grinned.

James felt his cheeks flame, eyes going wide, “Are you serious?”

“No,” You snickered, “I got hungry and didn’t feel like cooking.”

The heat of his cheeks only worsened, “That’s rude.”

You cooed, “Ooh poor baby I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings, are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” James huffed, “I don’t think I can take this harassment.”

The laughter that echoed around him caused a smile to break onto his face.

You suddenly realized he was as attractive as the other waitresses were saying. Even if his hair was a mess and his glasses were smudged.

You hadn’t been lying. By his third week, James was helping with both garnish and desserts. His thirst for cooking finally being fulfilled even by the small tasks he had been given. He was still forced to do dishes at the end of service but usually, someone would help him or even trade-off with him so he could take part in prep.

Most nights when he was left alone in the kitchen you would appear, always claiming to be hungry and that cooking was for “the weak.” so you would raid the fridge instead. You stated many times that veggies and leftover slices of cake were a fine dinner much to James’ distaste.

“That's it.” The newbie announced, hands in the air in mock surrender as you opened a container of cauliflower. “This has to stop.”

Your heart sped in your chest, was he going to turn you in?

“You can’t keep eating shit, I’m going to cook something for you.” James huffed, moving you aside and beginning to pull stuff from the refrigerator.

You lifted your brows, “Are you sure?”

James nodded, “You need to taste actual food.”

You rolled your eyes, “Couldn’t you get in, like, a lot of trouble.”

“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” He smirked pulling out salmon and bok choy.

“Obviously not.” You huffed taking your usual seat in the counter as James began to work, “What are you making anyway?”

“Asian inspired salmon.” He mumbled, lighting the stove and grabbing a frying pan.

You sat in comfortable silence, watching as he cut the vegetable in half placing it into a pan and the salmon into another. James’ hands moved quickly, not hesitating with the large knives he handled and weaving through the meal as he grabbed seasonings and sauces.

By the time he was pulling the fish from the heat, the kitchen had filled with the scent of soy sauce and warmth.

Grabbing a plate James placed on the salmon followed by the bok choy and the lemon sesame sauce. He wiped the rim with a damp rag and presented it before you with enough dramatics to earn a giggle.

“You’re ridiculous.” You spoke through a smile taking the fork from his offering hand and digging in.

You placed the tender meat into your mouth and was greeted by an explosion of flavors that danced on your tongue like pixie dust. You hummed, a facade of deliberation on your face, “It's overcooked.” You started plainly watching as James’ face dropped. “I’m just kidding it's delicious.” You laughed as James rolled his eyes.

“You are such a dick,” he mumbled, beginning to clean the slight mess he had made.

“What are you doing?” You asked. James gave you a strange look, “Get a fork dumbass, you can’t make rich people food like this and then not eat it.”

The smile that crept onto his face caused wings to erupt in your stomach.

You had always hated teenagers. They were spoiled and greedy and gross. So when an older woman walked in with four 17-year-old boys you had fled the scene. Unfortunately, the waitress head placed you at the table anyway. The second you reached the table all four adolescence had fallen silent and you were positive it wasn’t them being polite. One of them started at your boobs the entire they ordered and you could feel their eyes on your ass as you walked away.

You were used to the gross stares, every waitress was. It didn’t matter how expensive the food was there always seemed to be creeps asking for it. What you had not been prepared for was the boy closest to you to reach out and grab you.

You didn’t hesitate, hand snatching his wrist before he had a chance to fully pull away. The woman the boys were with gasped. You squeezed his arm tight hoping he could feel your nails biting his skin.

“Touch me again and I will cut your hand off. Am I clear?” You hissed, a whimper left the teen’s mouth and you released him. You placed his plate in front of him with a clatter and didn’t waste time walking away.

Your anger didn’t diminish the rest of the night and by the time your shift was over you considered going straight home, a shower and an extra hour of sleep would serve you well.

You glanced into the kitchen, there were three chefs left, James stood in front of the sink smiling at nothing as he always seemed to do. A sigh left your lips, who needs sleep anyway?

“I’ll close up.” You called to the head waitress who shot you a skeptical look.

“You used to hate closing.” She mused, “What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

You shrugged, “Nothing in particular.”

She smirked, “So it has absolutely nothing to do with the new dishwasher?”

Pink bloomed on your cheeks, “He’s a line cook and no it doesn’t.”

“Uh-huh, sure it doesn’t.” She mocked, “If you’re gonna fuck just don’t do it in the kitchen.”

Your face twisted in disgust and you almost dropped the napkins you held, “That is so gross.”

She laughed, dropping the keys on the bar, “If I find any bodily fluids in my office you’re fired.”

“You are disgusting.” You hissed, face hot and she only laughed harder.

You finished cleaning off the remainder of the tables, peeking into the kitchen occasionally as the last two cooks left for the night.

The weight of your exertion hit hard as you entered the kitchen, legs seeming to give out as you bent down to remove your heels.

James noticed your discomfort and let out a chuckle, “Let me.”

You stood up a bit too quickly, head spinning for a second as you were lifted onto the counter, James crouching to slip off your shoes. You sighed leaning back onto your palms.

“Tough day?” he asked, turning back to open the fridge.

You nodded, “Kids are assholes.”

James laughed, “And why's that?”

You yawned eyes watering from its force as you answered, “Well one little highschool shit grabbed my ass.”

James froze, he hand hovering midair as he processed what you had just told him, “What?”

“Oh yeah, entitled rich kids always think they can touch whatever they want. It's why I hate serving teenagers.” You complained not noticing the distress you had put James under.

“This happens regularly?” He was appalled.

“Well not really regularly more like once a month, it’s not always teenagers though,” You explained, “Oo what’s that?”

James set the container of chocolate-covered strawberries in front of you. His mouth still agape “Once a month isn’t regular?”

You huffed, “Can we stop talking about it? It happens to every waitress.”

“Yeah, sorry,” James mumbled watching as you bit into a strawberry, lipstick smearing.

“You going to have one of these?” You asked, holding one between your thumb and pointer finger.

“Sure.” James went to grab the strawberry only for you to pull it away with a grin.

“No, no, I get to feed it to you.” Your smile was sweetly arranged.

Heat tingled on his neck like tv static, “Don’t be ridiculous y/n.”

“Oh come on James, don’t be a pussy.” You taunted waving the fruit in front of him as color painted his cheeks.

He glared at you in mock annoyance as his heartbeat began to run, “Fine.”

You giggled as he took the berry into his mouth, lips barely grazing your fingertips as he pulled away.

James had never been more embarrassed in his life, he chewed the sweet fruit refusing to meet your eyes as you continued to laugh.

“You’re cute ya’ know.” You giggled.

James scoffed, a mix of bittersweet coming from your words, “Whatever.” He walked away from you hiding his flushed face.

You whined, “I’m not joking. You are really cute.”

“Seriously y/n stop,” James spoke, his voice laced with disappointment and melancholy.

You rolled your eyes, “You’re such an idiot James.”

He leaned against the refrigerator as you plopped another berry into your mouth. His arms crossed as a pout you had found yourself obsessed with took his lips.

“A few girls actually did want your number.” You hummed watching as he seemed to perk up, reminding you of a puppy given a toy. “I was supposed to get it for them, but I didn’t really want to.”

James scrunched his brows, “Why not?”

“Cause I wanted your number dumbass.” You scoffed, “I wasn’t about to give it to someone else.” `

This only confused him more, “Why would you want my number?”

A groan lifted from your lips, “Your skull is so thick James. I want your number because you’re cute and funny and all that shit.” your voice fell to a mumble and your eyes became glued to your swinging feet.

“Why didn’t you ask for my number?” James challenged and you felt your already warm face grow hot.

“I was nervous.” You muttered bitterly not liking the vulnerable position you had been put into.

James was suddenly stepping towards you “What was that?” he grinned hand to his ear mockingly.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” You grumbled, “Look I like you, I think you’re cute and sweet and funny now are you going to continue being a dick or give me a proper response?”

James continued to beam, stepping closer to you as you glared up at him with pink cheeks.

“Well, you’re really cute too.” James said, “And I think you were being the dick for making me try to impress you for three weeks only to say you liked me the entire time.”

You were tempted to bury your head in your hands but considering that would mean you breaking his gaze you stopped yourself, “Oh fuck off.” you muttered heart thudding so loud you wondered if James could hear it.

“Is that really what you want?” He questioned already knowing the answer. He leaned over you cupping your cheek.

“Just kiss me already asshole.” You murmured.

James tilted your head up to meet his lips. They were soft and plush, a thousand times better than you imagined them to be nights before. Your thighs parted as his own pressed against the counter between them in desperation to be closer to you. Closed kisses turned to open-mouthed ones, leaving the pleasant taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @obsessedwithrandomthings @coldlilheart

Masterlist

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whyjm · 3 years

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Why I did not like the Spn finale

This is gonna be a long post..

I cannot get over my thoughts about how it ended and how bad I feel about it. I am so angry, sad and feel so utterly disappointed, I cannot wrap my mind around how this was supposed to be a satisfying tying up emotional archs ending??? Bc it was so far away from satisfying I would laugh if I was not presently crying over it..

There are several things that irked me a lot. Many people have voiced the problems of this show and its ending much more eloquently than I will ever be able to do.. But I gotta get these fucking thoughts and feelings out of my system.

I have been with Spn since the first episode aired. I am a straight woman, I don’t have to fight for representation, I don’t have to worry about coming out and being accepted for who I am, I don’t have the daily struggles of feeling anxious or depressed or suicidal or not being able to be who I am. I am lucky that way!

To me love is love and all love should be equal! And I stand with all who struggle and all who are not free to be who they are. I see you and I love you and I support you fully!!!

To see my friends having to fight, and then on top of that have a show that has meant so much to so many people be butchered and have a negative last message sent out, in its last 36 minutes of its life … It is a hard pill to swallow.

Cas and Dean

In 15x18 we got to have a beautiful confession from Cas to Dean where Cas tells Dean he loves him and we know this is romantic love bc Cas begins by saying that the one thing I want I know I can’t have and then later I love you. Also Misha confirming it! This scene made me ugly cry so hard bc FINALLY.. (BUT what is missing from it.. the editing is strange.. bc Cas pushes Dean to the right but he falls to the left. Dean has no tears in his eyes while he looks straight at Cas when he talks, but he has tears in his eyes when he looks over his shoulder and see the empty. So what in this scene has been cut away and WHY?) Misha and Jensen did a great job with this and Cas got to find peace in just speaking his truth... And it was beautiful to watch and after having seen Dean sitting sobbing on the floor the natural and logical continuation of this would have been to in the next episode address this, but in episode 19 no such thing happened. And I wondered where did Dean’s grief go where did his CARE for Cas go?? Dean who has been depressed and suicidal when Cas have died before is all of sudden cold and act like nothing have happened at least nothing that affected him very deeply.. It felt disconnected and strange. And it continued on like that and it felt very strange to NOT address such a HUGH plot point. It’s not enough to have Dean say to Chuck to bring Cas back or to see him wasted out of his mind, or hugging a dog like his emotional wellbeing depends on it.. This is not resolution or addressing it.

All of season 15 has felt like the relationship between Cas and Dean has been in focus and important to the overall arch of the season, and explored and then all of a sudden all traces of it are just ripped away, erased completely.. To have a confession like this go unacknowledged to me is poor writing bc you do not leave this big of a thing hanging in the air without resolution (fine you can argue Cas got resolution but I feel that no Cas did not get resolution either bc his feelings SHOULD have gotten a response no matter what that response was.. Dean did not, we never got to hear or see his version or his thoughts about it.)

I was thinking narratively they HAVE to address this, Deans thoughts and reactions to this gotta be shown. They HAVE to resolve this, acknowledge it. I have been sure a long time they would NEVER have Dean reciprocate Cas love but keep it in subtext bc they are too fucking chickenshit to do that but at least have Dean talk about Cas….. that I expected him to do.. But it was not done in 19. I got the horrible feeling in my gut that they are not gonna resolve this they are gonna fuck this up, they are gonna go full brothers only and not give a fuck they are gonna push Cas out and show no care. Then we come to the final episode and boy howdy is there a lot to unpack with this episode.

(I had watched the long road home before the finale and when I watched that I KNEW that the end was going to be a letdown I felt it in all of me that I was gonna be disappointed. And I was proven right. And I have so many thoughts all jumbled up around each other that I don’t know in which end to start so sorry if what follows is incoherent and rambly.. )

15x20 - The end

20 felt like a FILLER episode, right up until Dean’s death scene I was bored and was seriously considering turning my computer of and just not watch. (A finale should be as engaging and emotionally packed like episode 18 was. I refuse to acknowledge 20 as the end.. To me it ended on 19. That wrapped things up. Not completely satisfying but hell of a lot better than the disaster that 20 is.) But then Dean was impaled on that rusty spike thingy and I was watching with attention. I GET why they did Deans death the way they did, even if that is one shitty death for Dean and could have been fixed so he did not die.. I get what they wanted to get out of it: a brothers sad moment that they turned into a irksome thing. I actually cringed about the head thing and the hands and the farming of it all just urgh I got sick to my stomach watching that. What should have been a beautifully sad moment was put together in a romantic coded way and that to me ruined the heartfelt goodbye. Bc you do not touch and hold a dying family member like that. I KNOW I have said goodbye to my fair share of loved ones that I have loved soo deeply, but the thought of touching like that NO no way.. And also they have NEVER done that forehead touch in previous deaths, so to do this now just felt irksome.

They killed Dean a character that has struggled his whole life with being daddy’s blunt little instrument, who has self-worth issues and are suicidal, who has never lived for his own sake but have only ever lived to protect and raise another, he continues to put others before himself though (up until the last couple of seasons where we have seen them both break away from this toxic behavior). Finally he was allowed to LIVE and have a life that was not controlled, not running in a hamster wheel like a fucking puppet on a string. He was Free of all of that. He was free to go after what HE wanted for himself and what Dean wanted was LOVE, in my mind its perfectly clear that Dean loves Cas back bc that is what the story have been telling us.. its right there and the story do not make sense without it. Many others have done a great job at talking about this and describe this way better than me. So I leave further discussion about that topic to them.

Dean was looking for a job. The angel Dean has loved since purgatory told him that he loved him and then died sacrificing himself to SAVE Dean yet again and then Dean dies a few days later.. How is this doing justice to Dean and what the hell kind of message does this send out to the ones watching?? They are saying it does not matter if you fight, your destiny is written for you and the only relief and comfort you will have will be death. They are saying Meh don’t fight it’s better to die bc it does not matter what you do. This is one of the fucked up messages this godawful ending sent to all those who have identified with Dean and Cas throughout the years.

They also say Cas who has been part of the story for 12 years is not important enough to have there, they IGNORED Cas, a mention in passing does not do justice to a character that has been crucial to the boys lives for 12 years. Dean Screamed in Sam’s face CAS IS FAMILY, Dean was destroyed when Cas died, he was hurt when Cas left bc everyone leaves Dean, Sam missed Cas etc… but still not important enough to show up in heaven in the last episode greeting first Dean and then Sam to heaven.. PFT…

To leave Cas and Misha out of the FINALE of a show that he has been part of for 12 years is so fucking disrespectful to Cas, to Misha and ALL the fans who love and adore both. It also makes no sense since they all say how beloved Cas and Misha are. and don’t go fucking covid made it impossible bc the last scene with all those people without masks.. No that is just lying liars who lie…Covid my ass! This angers me a lot.

Family do end in ONLY blood apparently…..

(And maybe lead to a lot of viewers for walker??? hence this very nice shirltess Sam scene............. ) shirtless Sam is always good though so no complaining here.

We see Sam and the dog give Dean a hunters funeral.. NO OTHERS are there? How is it possible that none of the found family wouldn’t want to be there and show up?? Jack has restored everyone but still only Sam and the dog are there, no Eileen, no Jody and the girls, Donna, Garth, and the list goes on and on. Bc they wanna hammer in harder that supernatural has ever only ever been about two brothers and no one else matters ever.. It does not matter that this has not been true since the earlier seasons. The show of course is about Sam and Dean’s lives and journey through life, and I have loved to follow along on their journey. BUT it was a long time ago this was the ONLY thing that mattered (bc if it had only been about the brothers the show would NOT have gone on for this long). Along the way they have picked up FOUND Family, and the message of the show has been Family don’t end in blood, Always Keep Fighting. But this last episode reverted back to season 1 and disregarded ALL character growth and storytelling of the past 12 years and went with fuck it ONLY Sam and Dean are important. So the next fucked up message they sent where: There is no Family don’t end in blood.. The only family that matters is blood. And then they have the balls to say Always Keep Fighting.. Are they fucking kidding????

Character development…….. who????

Sam lives on after Dean dies and we get a montage of his life where he look miserable and is shown to not being able to get over that Dean died. We get a blurry wife and a kid named Dean. In his house there are photos of ONLY himself, Dean and their parents and maybe one of his son? Don’t remember all the details and refuse to watch that episode ever again. But no friends, no family, no happy moments are shown, it looked like a very lonely life. He dies with only his son there.. WHERE are Sam’s friends??? This montage of Sam’s supposed happy life is NOT happy bc he is not able to get over that Dean is dead, he can’t live a happy life bc Dean is not there - again something that irked me and felt disrespectful to all the growth Sam and Dean have gone through. It was toxic codependency all the way through and that is not satisfying to watch. Especially since the brothers had actually broken that dependency. Sam had broken free, Sam have through the years wanted to get away from Dean and live his life as he wants and then he was happy…We have a moment way back in season 5 maybe? Where Sam runs away and this is shown as one of his happy moments in dark side of the moon.. No Dean in his happy places, Sam having thanksgiving with his girlfriend and her family, Sam alone with a dog. We have Sam and Amelia when Dean was in purgatory. So Sam IN text have been shown being able to be happy without Dean so why could he not do it this time?? Makes no sense! You can grieve but still have a good life.. But they CHOSE to show it like Sam was miserable bc Dean was dead and life was not worth living happily without Dean there..

The brothers have lately interacted like two individual adults, separated from each other, making their own decisions and trusting each other in making them, they wanted different things in life. And seriously WHERE DID EILEEN GO?? Why was Sam not reunited with Eileen that he some eps previous was shown to love, no instead they had blurry wife which feels like such a cop out. Sam did not get to live a happy fulfilling life and why did Sam not deserve to live a happy life with Eileen??? I know they are blaming corona for a lot of things missing in the finale that they intended.. BUT and this is a BIG BUT remember Jensen did not like the ending it did not sit well with him, he had a hard time digesting it, he objected to the ending! He spoke about that dying in battle would not be a satisfying ending - see the video of him talking about this at SDCC 2019. There is so much more to say about this but other people have voiced it so much better than I ever could so I move on to the next issue.

Dean in heaven

Dean when he first arrives there happens upon Bobby who tells him John and Mary lives down the road and that Rufus and Arheta lives around there too. I hope Bobby’s wife was indoors, and that Jack with the help of Cas fixed heaven. To this Dean only smirk/smiles.. and then Dean sees baby and goes for a drive ALONE with the words he will be here soon from Bobby again Sam is the only one that ever matter PFT. Dean who found a home in the bunker alongside Sam, Cas and Jack who told John: I have a family and that he was happy with himself and his life…. Spends his time endlessly driving around alone just waiting for Sam to appear.. ALL of Deans growth is thrown out the window.. he is reduced to salad dressing. Deans only purpose is to live for his brother and cannot possibly have what he WANTS for himself not even in death. He drives around for who knows how many years until Sam dies. HOW is this justice to DEAN? How is this a good and satisfying ending for Dean. Dean who wanted to LIVE, Dean who wanted to experience people in new ways, who had let go of Sam and saw Sam as his own person, now in heaven only drives around waiting for Sam to get there having no life or meaning of his own. It pisses me off to no end that they reverted back to toxic codependent Sam is all that is important to Dean shit.. They have broken away from this shit years ago and this is how they choose to end it right back at the beginning..

Now what is the point of telling a story of growth and love and life if all that that journey amounts to is ending up at the exact point it started on?? You can watch season 1 and 2 and then this finale and it makes sense.. But having watched season 1-15 this ending does great injustice to the characters and the story. Again many others have written way better posts about this that expresses the great disappointment and hurt that is being screamed everywhere right now.

The Actors

I want to add the performance of all actors through the years, the love and care they have poured into their characters are amazing I have loved every bit of that journey. I love Jared, Jensen and Misha, and all the others for their amazing work and that is maybe why it hurts so much it ended in this way!

#spn 15x20 #Supernatural #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Jared Padalecki #dean winchester #dean #sam winchester #sam #castiel #cas #spn 15x18 #spn 15x19 #rambly thoughts about the end #the end

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magesmiths · 3 years

Text

Regency AU: let your heart be your guide

Chapter two: say we'll go slow but we never do

word count: 1,759

Read on AO3 / Chapter 1

Dearest Miss Sewell,

I trust you arrived safely in Bath, though I have yet to hear from you. One can only assume you have spent the past fortnight absorbed in a particularly good book, though I fail to see why that should stop you from fulfilling your promise, I quote, of writing me upon your arrival.

Little has occurred in London since your departure. I look forward to returning to the country soon. Your presence would be welcome.

I hope it is not too much of a task to assure your oldest friend of your continued safety.

Faithfully,

Ava du Mortain

---

My Dearest Ava,

I do apologise for not writing you sooner, Bath has been a more delightful experience thus far than I had anticipated. That is, however, no excuse for my lack of correspondence.

It is a beautiful city, more so than I had remembered. I feel as though I am seeing it through a new set of eyes. And perhaps I am.

In truth, I have written multiple letters. I find myself in raptures and pen lengthy prose that should be seen by none. My dear friend, how can I express to you the past weeks with merely my own words? I cannot do them justice and will spare you the overtures when I know you would rather I get to the point.

I would be more than happy to join you in the country once the season in London is over. I expect to be back in a fortnight, I look forward to being in your company again.

Yours,

Nat

---

Lottie wakes even before the sun the next morning. The anticipation is too much to sleep through, irresistible are the thoughts that feel as though they breathe life into her, all centred on one person.

She had oft considered her lack of interest in the men, wondered why she would rather watch her acquaintances than fawn over the latest potential suitor with them. It had become clearer to her over time, and startlingly obvious when her friendship with one seemed to transcend that which was appropriate for two women. Not - she remembers with a wry smile - that that had gone anywhere beyond a few careful touches of hands and shy, prolonged smiles before the friend was whisked away by matrimony.

No, it was not quite a surprise to her then to meet Miss Sewell and feel the way she did. The only shock had been the fervour with which her affection grows, like ivy crawling through her veins and becoming a part of her. She considers for a moment if that is too sinister a simile, too aggressive for that which makes her feel as though she could fly. And yet it is apt. For ivy is evergreen, it holds with vigour. Ivy is immortal.

(If Lottie were a more pragmatic woman, if perhaps she knew how to hold back a little, if there was a piece of her heart she did not give so willingly; she might protect herself more. She might be able to foresee danger in what she pursues, might even feel this proclamation comes a little too soon after their first meeting. Alas, she could not be herself if she did. If for a moment she concerned herself with feeling too much too soon, she reminded herself of friends who had professed their love for men they had scarcely met and those ended in marriages. No, if anything, the force of her feelings and the taboo nature of them assured her of her own curiosity. These feelings were something and she had to know what it could mean — what it could be.)

When finally, finally, the sun rises and the day can begin, Lottie is beyond having patience. The morning drags, her brother and aunt can provide no relief with their chatter and gossip. She joins in where she can, playing the dutiful, entertaining sister and niece, but a pair of brown eyes continue to occupy her thoughts.

“Charlotte.”

Lottie’s nose wrinkles at the use of her full name as she turns her attention to her aunt. She’s met with two admonishing looks, though her brother’s is more amused than irritated.

“I asked you a question, dear.”

“I apologise, Aunt. What was it you asked?”

Anne sighs and takes a long sip of her tea, watching Lottie over the teacup with narrowed eyes. Lottie’s jaw clenches, but she doesn’t break eye contact. Her aunt’s glare has long stopped having its desired effect.

“I asked if we should be expecting any suitors of yours.”

“Suitors?”

“Yes, dear. A man. One who might finally marry you, burden though it might be.”

“Aunt!” John’s face has always shown every emotion. The shock is in the way his eyebrows are raised, the lines on his forehead prominent, his mouth slightly ajar.

Lottie almost smiles at his shock, he has not needed to learn to delicately hide those emotions when one is being insulted so blatantly. At 25, she barely flinches anymore.

“Well I should hardly be privy to that information. Why would a man inform a woman of his intentions?” Lottie has not needed her brother’s protection from their aunt in years, knows that the only way to silence her is to be just as disrespectful. She stands, folding her napkin and sets it on the table. Her gaze flicks down over the older woman’s attire. “However, if your concern is about looking presentable for the day, Aunt, I’m sure you needn’t concern yourself.”

Her aunt hardly reacts to her words, merely raising an eyebrow and stating, “if you cannot find one yourself, I shall simply find a husband for you, Charlotte.”

Lottie gives a tight smile, bows her head and leaves the room before the other two can say anything more.

The journey to the library, one that should be filled with excitement and anticipation, is marred by the memory of her aunt’s words. The threat of a husband looms, an unknown darkness hanging over her life, her future. Thus far Lottie has been afforded freedoms many of her friends had not, and the good will of her brother kept her protected. But her aunt’s near constant presence these past two years had changed that.

This was not the first time Aunt Anne’s impatience and Lottie’s reluctance (or impertinence as her aunt was fond of calling it) regarding marriage came to a head. Her recent birthday, however, had brought with it a determination. It seemed 25 years may be her aunt’s limit.

Dread seeps in, settling itself in her mind. Seeing Miss Sewell no longer seems like a good idea — what good is any pretence of happiness? — and she almost resolves herself to tell the driver to turn around when the carriage comes to a stop and he announces they have arrived.

Lottie stares at her hands for a moment, clenched together. She can feel her nails pressing small crescent moons into her skin, focuses on that feeling and takes a deep breath. The door opens.

“Miss Fitzwilliam?”

The soft call of her name has Lottie raising her head and seeing the eyes that have featured prominently in her mind for the past two weeks.

And it’s as if her worries melt away upon meeting them again.

“Miss Sewell.” It seems impossible for her name to pass her lips without smiling as she says them. Miss Sewell’s own lips curve upwards in response and a moment passes where they speak no words.

She could not put it to words if asked to describe what it is that passes between them, what feeling it is that settles over her. She knows only that it embraces her, unfamiliar yet distinctly Miss Sewell. Whatever this pull may be, finding out is the only thing she can think of.

“Shall we?”

Miss Sewell gestures to the doorway in front of them and they fall into step next to one another. Their arms brush against one another as they walk, just briefly, barely touching, but enough that Lottie feels a shiver run down her arm afterwards. An accident, or so it might appear, it is hard to tell but regardless, it is another few moments before she can force words from her lips.

“Are you looking for a particular book, Miss Sewell?”

“No, not especially. I find there is no place quite so enjoyable as a library, and I am devoid of my own here in Bath. I thought it might be a pleasant way to pass time in your company.”

“You have your own library at home?”

Miss Sewell smiles down at her. “Oh yes. I have spent quite some time cultivating it.” There is a pause, Miss Sewell’s eyes seem to search her face and Lottie can feel herself warming under her gaze. “You should see it some time, I think you would like it.”

She feels brave, looking into those eyes. “I’m sure I should like anything if it were in your company, Miss Sewell.”

A risk. Only a small one; easy to ignore or misinterpret. A whisper in the wind, thrown out, willing to be caught in sails and brought safely to shore. Lottie feels her heart hammer against her chest as she waits.

They pause in front of bookshelves, not quite so close that they are touching, but near enough that Lottie can feel the warmth emanating from Miss Sewell. Or at least, she fancies that she can, and hopes that in return Miss Sewell can sense her own happiness in their proximity.

“Now we have at least a little more privacy,” her voice is but a murmur, low and for Lottie alone, “could you afford me the privilege of calling me by my name? At least for today. I do tire of ‘Miss Sewell’.”

Lottie feels a smile pull at her lips, hope fluttering within her. “Natalie, then?”

“Nat. If you will.”

“Nat.” Her eyes flick up towards the woman and the smile grows into a grin, matching the one on her companion’s face. “It suits you.” She turns back to look at the books on the shelf, reaching a hand towards them, fingers skirting over the spines as though pondering the titles, though she could not tell you their names if asked. “You could call me Lottie. If you would like.”

There is no immediate acknowledgement of what she has said, but then she hears the soft whisper of her name and she has to close her eyes, basking in the moment.

This, she thinks, this is everything.

#wayhaven fanfic #the wayhaven chronicles fanfic #twc fanfiction #twc #nat sewell #f!detective x nat sewell #lottie x nat #oc: lottie fitzwilliam #writing #twc writing

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socratoteles · 3 years

Text

A year to get Ph.D in letting go

The last time I was here, I wrote that perhaps it was time for me to go out and just enjoy the world. And amid the global pandemic, I sort of managed to do that. It was such a lifesaver in a year of goodbyes. I`ll get to that, but let me begin with my coronavirus scare.

On March 4 last year, I was away in Bandung, aware but not worried of some obscure virus that triggered a total lockdown in some Chinese cities. That very same day was also the time when my colleagues came in contact with a man who later confirmed of having contracted COVID-19.

That was how close I was of contracting the virus. Had I not taken a paid leave to write last year’s essay in the city where I was born, chances were high that I was another case as well, at that early stage of the pandemic too. I`m still familiar with the helplessness that came after I checked in to a hospital only to being denied the test (the nurse reasoned that the contact with my colleagues, who might catch the virus from the confirmed man, cannot be categorized as close contact).

And that experience, of confusion and fear of infecting loved ones, left a lasting impression that shaped my behavior going forward. After all, it takes a pandemic to make wearing mask and washing hands could made the difference between life and death.

Covid-induced isolation meant that I spent most of my time being holed up in my room for the past 12 months. To this day the side effects of this solitary existence is still beyond my full grasp. On one hand, this situation had brought out my inner resiliency, resourcefulness and adaptability in the long days and night when things were just so dark. On the other hand, it also forced me to deal with unresolved traumas and numerous intrusive thoughts, which I will get into later.

People get really creative during the long locked-down days, spending it doing viral social media challenges one after the other. Videoconferencing become a thing on its own and for some reason loads of folks played a game named Among Us too, perhaps to remind themselves of the interactions cruelly torn apart because of the virus.

There was also a newfound awareness on class too, because the coronavirus disproportionately affected different individuals with different income level. At least on my part, I was lucky that essential workers (the pandemic elevated the phrase into such a buzzword) near my place were safe and somehow never contracted the virus. It is worth mentioning that I definitely cannot survive this long if not for the minimarket workers, ride-hailing drivers and dozens of cooks, all of whom must have worked in long hours, despite knowing the risk, just to keep their families fed.

Others, however, were not so lucky. the SARS-CoV-2 had infected more than a million Indonesians a year after it was officially detected in these shores. Millions have lost their jobs as economic activities ground to a halt. The place I currently work was not an exception. Massive layoffs would have happened in my office had the shareholders have enough money to properly compensate their workers.

It was an obviously eye-opening experience to calculate my own severance pay and make sure I could survive on that for as long as possible. The prospect of losing your income during the pandemic –which should be that particular time for anyone to hold on to their what-ifs money– was really awful.

This is the paragraph where I say that I wish nothing but the best for those who left the company simply because they deserve nothing less than that.

But there was another reason why I signed up for a help from professional therapist last year. In the latter part of last year, things got very, very grim. At the risk of oversimplification, let’s just say that I was unable to express my feelings properly to a girl that I really liked, right at the most critical moment when probably both of us needed support from each other. She eventually left with another guy.

Days before that fateful event happened, I was quietly bearing my own burden. After years of convincing myself that I was okay, I was, in fact, not okay, at least mentally. Years of trauma have caught up. It’s too personal to even spell that out here but I`ll just quote this Youtuber just to describe a fitting metaphor.

“You see, human identity is like a house of card. One that’s always expanding. A story that is ever developing and always referred back to because every memory becomes a new card. Trauma is when a card doesn’t fit because the experience itself is so painful that it’s incompatible with everything else and if you become obsessed with making it fit the whole house of cards can fall apart and you lose the confidence to build anything new.”

Basically, my house of cards came crashing down, hard. At a time, it reduced me into this insecure soul who were unsure that people will accept me for who I was.

The last time I felt this way was a couple years back when my parent’s divorce was formalized. A girlfriend turned ex-girlfriend at that time too. Apparently, the universe has a cruel sense of timing to combine existential crisis with a relationship one.

The road to recovery was rocky, to say the least. I know something fundamental must be addressed, hence the therapy session.

I`m grateful for the company of my friends, either offline or online. (yes, I had become quite loose in terms of isolation because I know I had to prioritize my mental health; COVID-19 be damned). I`m also glad to say that because I talked with my friends about this issue, some of them were also encouraged to seek professional help.

At the height of my despair, I watched La Grande Bellezza (probably for a half a dozen time already) again and found this quote, spoken by the protagonist Jep Gambardella:

“We’re all on the brink of despair. We can only look each other in the face, keep each other company, kid each other a bit. Don’t you agree?”

Someone was kind enough to upload the entire scene on Youtube.

I decided that all bets are off, so I purchased books, many of which had been on my to-read list for years because I know I`ll have to read it when I search for a catharsis. That was how I finally read the Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus, from which I managed to understand what he meant by the absurdities of life. Into the Wild, excellently written by Jon Krakauer, broke my heart too because of Chris Mccandles’ tales somehow mimicked my own, minus the grand adventure part. I finally read Alan Watts too, from whom I learned that efforts to avoid from pain is painful in itself.

And music, a constant part of my life as I know it, helps too. I was saved because Fleet Foxes released a life-affirming record that fittingly spoke about relief, gratitude, and seasonal rebirth. During the darkest days I was just alone with my guitar in my room, terribly singing out the words that these musicians carved out of their soul to release my emotional burden. I was particularly grateful for being reminded time and again that “no one gets it right” but “we’re all supposed to try”.

I made a playlist containing songs that for me served as a reminder to be gentle for myself. You can check that here.

All of that was a roundabout way to say that I indeed, was able to go out amid the pandemic. On one afternoon I just said fuck it, I need to go out and see things. That led me to a weekly socially-distanced walk around the neighborhood, which was therapeutic in itself because the walks allowed me to be fully present and be sensitive to the sights and sounds and smells around me. Nothing is more liberating that allowing your feet to go where it you to go.

I don’t have the full answers yet, but as I wrote his essay, I`m glad to be able to say that I have rebuild my house of cards, with some of the bad cards included as well. It was quite a bumpy ride but when I looked back, this particular tweet was eerily prescient because it rings true today as was the day I tweeted it.

But I walked away from the depths of that bottomless pit not only with knowledge, but also of understanding the parts that made me who I am. I`m also humbled after I saw the abyss for the second time because it suggests that there might be another time when I found myself on the edge of despair.

I`ll never forget the fact that these hard-won lessons came on the back of years of pain, grief and suffering. But it also came on the heels of moments of simple walk in the setting sun and feeling the breeze on the beach too. In fact, I have made it my mission going forward to acknowledge both good and bad things as they are. Because forcing yourself to remember all the bright things when you were in the dark, and vice versa, is a form of self-torture. I hope this essay somehow do that mission justice.

I have said goodbyes to many things in life as the crisis comes and goes, but 2020 goodbyes were simply different. So much so that I thought I have a PhD in letting go already, however absurd that idea is.

#age #birthday #essay

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cjstalkingstarwarsagain · 3 years

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hi! i’ve recently decided to rewatch all the star wars movies and take notes on them and then,,, share them with you. so if you’re even mildly interested in my star wars opinions, here you go :)

i’ll divide it into a couple categories so,,,

well start with rogue one!!

shit that made me giggle

"oh look, here’s lyra back from the dead. it’s a miracle."

everything K2 says and does. i love him and he’s perfect.

i love the continuous attempts by K2 to appear imperial and how he fails every time. not a single storm trooper or officer ever believes him when he starts running his mouth.

so sorry but bohdi getting his cable caught and trying to shake it loose is such an adorably human moment. makes me giggle every time.

i honestly thought this section would be longer, this movie made me laugh a bunch.

stuff i don’t like or doesn’t make sense

why does jyn start believing in the rebellion? there’s no indication that she cared before they found her. there’s no real turning point that we can see. she just,,, suddenly is really into this shit. which is strange because the only reason she ever joined was because she was given a non-choice (either help or get put back in prison). i guess i can kinda see how her father dying could have changed her, but we see none of that on the ship after his death. we just get to the rebel council and all of a sudden she’s the poster girl for rebellion.

saw seems really stable at the beginning of the film, so why did he go seemingly crazy and paranoid? it’s probably explained in the novelization but that’s no excuse to just have a character go crazy with really no explanation or backstory.

that being said, a lot of the character development is pretty lacking. i don’t think i’d care about these characters nearly as much if i wasn’t already a star wars fan.

video game cut scene style general tarkin

bor gullet is supposed to make you lose your mind but bohdi was pretty much fine after like,,, a day

how does the death star,,,, move?? like i know it can but has that ever been explained? is it like little thrusters? like the ones you can see in real life to stabilize things in space? there’s nothing i can visually see. i’m not mad about it i just wanna know.

why does saw insist on staying behind? why doesn’t he come and help?? it would have been so easy to just leave but he insists on staying behind and just watching as death inches closer. i think it doesn’t make sense because we know *so little* about his character. give me more on him, make me understand.

since james earl jones is getting older, vader sounds older. was there??? nothing the audio or editing department could have done about that??? not super mad about this one just because darth vader is really cool and i’ll never really complain too much about darth vader screen time.

when the fuck did jyn become a motivational speaker??

my one gripe about pretty much every star wars movie is the sheer number of times people climb through huge shafts and jump around and shit and they’re always *fine*. no way they wouldn’t fall to their deaths in any normal situations.

can someone?? check the science of the hammerhead corvette?? because there’s no gravity or weight in space right?? theoretically all you gotta do is give that star destroyer a bump and it’s spinning out, right?? i know absolutely nothing about space physics but i gotta be right. maybe i’m wrong. i dunno. i’m dumb as rocks. hear that baby girl?? it’s the spare change rattling around in my skull. i got pennies where my brain is.

absolutely no fucking shot cassian survived a blaster hit AND that fall AND climbed out. my belief simply cannot be suspended that much.

DUDE I FORGOT THAT THE DEATH STAR CAN TRAVEL THROUGH HYPERSPACE HOW DOES WORK SOMEONE TELL ME!!!!!

why doesn’t vader just,,, force grab the plans. i know he sees them. why not just force stop the guy running away with them??

final note now that the movie is over. yes, it’s got a lot of issues. the plot is ehhh at times. the trailers don’t match up with the movie shots AT ALL (i wanna know what happened behind the scenes with that). the character development is lacking in many major ways (that has not stopped me from loving these characters though, but that’s the autism talking). but like i’ll say in the "stuff i liked" section, this is such a damn cool movie. i was once talking about it with an older friend of mine and he said seeing rogue one in theaters felt like watching the original trilogy in theaters back in the 70s and 80s and honestly that’s such a compliment. i love this movie, i really do.

just cool shit,,, you know the vibe

DEATH TROOPERS

krennic is probably one of my favorite imperial officers. for some reason he just really sells it for me, the evil and manipulation that borderlines in try hard. and (i mention it more later because you see it more in the "choke on your aspirations" scene) beyond that just the fact that he’s?? a guy. just a dude. at any given moment he could be described as just hanging out. but he’s trying so hard (for whatever reason, we don’t know his evil motivations) to be this big bad evil dude. and it’s just interesting to see someone *trying* to be imperial and *trying* to be evil, as opposed to a tarkin-type character who’s just naturally an asshole.

i love the rogue one main theme. don’t even talk to me. it’s so cool.

it’s cool to see more about the birth of the death star, seeing other people learn about it. sort of realizing the fear and terror that everyone must have been experiencing. especially after being a star wars fan for so long and being like, yeah it’s the death star it’s just a staple of this universe. it reminds me that "oh god this was a planet killer and this was the first time something like that had ever even been heard of".

there’s gorgeous visuals in this movie.

i like the "i’m wanted in 12 systems" guy cameo (did you know his name is cornelius? i googled it)

when the storm trooper asks for papers?? like fuck yeah show me what life is like under imperial rule. give me that shit.

chirrut is so badass i’ll never get over it

"i’m one with the force and the force is with me" i’m eating that shit UP! salivating over the meal in front of me. i really want more exploration of the guardians and jedi worship in general. like gimme that weird funky space religion.

seeing an at-st just walk around a town. i dunno i like that shit.

K2 saying sorry for hitting cassian. i’m so soft on this robot.

"clear of hostiles,,,, ONE HOSTILE"

jyn stepping in front of K2 to protect him after she (not ten minutes ago) made the comment “i’m just afraid they’ll miss you and hit me”. jyn,,, your soft side is showing,,,,

i like the cool machine blaster that baze has. it’s awesome seeing different blaster styles when originally the only variation we really saw was chewie’s cross bow style blaster.

i really wanna see more of baze and cirruit. i wanna know what happened that made baze stop believing. i wanna know how they met. i wanna see them evolve and grow together.

i like that jyn argues that 16 is too young to be a solider (she’s 21 in the movie). i like that she’s mad that she’s young and has been put in a position to protect herself and then later save the galaxy. (for context: luke and leia were 19 in a new hope. anakin is 19 in attack of the clones, ~22 when he became darth vader, and rey is 19 in force awakens. stop putting the fate of the galaxy in the hands of people who are *barely* adults)

the testing of the death star is awesome. love seeing wicked cool space weapons. when it blocks out the sun? ominous as hell fuck yeah.

it’s interesting that baze says cassian doesn’t look like a killer, that "he has the face of a friend", when one of the first things we saw him do was kill a man. i think about that a lot. does that say more about baze’s ability to read people or does it say more about who cassian is deep down, beyond what he’s done to serve the rebellion?

cassian’s relationship with death and killing is very interesting. you could argue that cassian is just as brainwashed and deep in the rebellion as anyone imperial. i really hope it’s something that gets explored in his stand alone show. he mentions he’s lost everything and has been a rebel since he was 6. gimme cassian andor backstory.

"careful not to choke on your aspirations director" is probably some of the most dramatic-anakin-skywalker shit i’ve ever seen vader do

i like seeing rebel infighting. so often it seems there’s always general consensus about what the rebellion wants, but it’s good to see that they don’t always agree on how to rebel.

i love the consistent "found family" rebel alliance shit in these movies. it makes my dick so hard.

ARTOO AND THREEPIO CAMEO FUCK ME UP THOSE ARE MY BOYS

okay i totally get that the empire is evil, i really do, but rogue one (and lots of moments in the sequels) really reminds me how fucking cool some of their shit is. like death troopers? imperial droids like K2? the base on scarif? vader’s castle on mustafar and his bacta tank?? fuck me UP.

i loved hearing the troopers doing their dumb small talk about the T-15s on the beach.

i think ben mendelssohn is perfect for the role of krennic, no notes there. he’s just like?? a guy and he’s doing everything he can to fit into this evil role and he just wants to be like this big bad imperial boy on campus. i don’t know. i don’t have the words right now to express how fuckin awesome he is. i’ll write an essay about it later.

THE AT-AT COMING OUT OF THE MIST?? CHRIST ON A BIKE. LAY ME TO REST. LOVE IT.

fucking love me some female fighter pilots. the women of star wars are so badass. doing justice to my return of the jedi ladies.

i think a whole lot about jyn giving K2 a blaster. the way he takes it and looks at it and holds it so gently. i think that’s the first time a human has trusted him with a blaster since his reprogramming. he seems so appreciative of that trust.

i love seeing the faces of baze and the other rebels when a few of the x-wings show up and take down an at-at. i’m so very soft for the relationship between these rebels. not to be cliche, but the *hope* that they have. it’s so moving. this movie is just so full of that quintessential rebel feeling.

hey so i’m super emotional about the death of K2 okay? because in the novelizations you learn that in the last second k2 had before a full shut down, he ran a simulation where cassian lived and even though he knew it was impossible, it made him happy. FURTHERMORE K2 is very well known and his name is often listed along side jyn’s in terms of talking about the history of the rebellion.

chirrut and baze’s deaths are so important to me. we know they’re best friends, and even though we don’t know how long they’ve been together, they love each other so deeply. chirrut being the path for baze to return to the force? touching. i so wish these dumb force husbands could have had more screen time. baze calling chirrut back?? chirrut telling him to find him in the force?? baze looking to see the man he loves one more time before he dies??reminds me of the silken quote about dying in your best friends arms because it’s all you know. anywho,,, if star wars canon has any mercy then these two lovers are force ghosts together rn. don’t care how you feel or whether you "ship" them or not. love comes in so many forms and they encompass all that love.

terribly sorry but i think about those two star destroyers colliding with the rogue one main theme playing over it every day. it’s,,,,, so,,,, ( ´∀｀)

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again BEN MENDELSSOHN??? UH YEAH

krennic watching his weapon (his beautiful, successful weapon) power up and kill him,,, the poetic justice of it all,,,,

any time anyone says "may the force be with you" i dunno maybe it’s my religious trauma but i’m head over heels for that good shit

the star destroyer coming out of hyper space as the rebels are escaping and some of the ships hit the destroyer?? one of my favorite things in the new star wars movies is directors and writers saying "oh this can totally happen" and they DO IT

jyn mentioning earlier in the film that she isn’t used to people sticking around when shit hits the fan and then dying in the arms of cassian?? because he stayed?? and for the first time she has someone??

in that same vein: cassian also says earlier in the film that he lost everything too. his connection with jyn is also important to him, just as important as it is to jyn. they need each other. i can’t remember who on this hellsite said it, but someone mentioned that they hope the stand alone cassian stuff coming out doesn’t make him this swindling playboy who fucks around a bunch. i think having him as more of like?? a mandolorian type character would be really cool. like he’s a rebel assassin: make him one. make him independent and badass and cool and DONT give him a bunch of romantic or sexual interests because then that downplays the clear love he had developing for jyn. again LOVE COMES IN FORMS BEYOND BASIC SHIPS. and there’s a lot of love in star wars.

i’ve said it a million times but vader is so cool and over and over again this movie reminded me that he’s actually so scary. i saw star wars for the first time when i was 6 and i can’t remember my initial reaction to him, but i’ve definitely (like with the death star) been desensitized to the fact that if i was in star wars, darth vader would scare the shit out of me. he’s *scary* and that’s cool. i liked seeing vader effortlessly go fucking mad on these rebels. then you understand why they were so scared in that first scene of a new hope.

no i absolutely will not get over the vader scene. i won’t. his saber turning on. his force abilities. his effortless lightsaber work. the choral music over the scene with the hectic orchestra. don’t touch me i’m emotional.

i loved seeing leia. it touches me so deeply every time.

fuck i love this movie despite all its faults.

if you’ve made it this far, thank you!! i hope you enjoyed. please remember that this is totally a safe space for all star wars opinions and you can feel free to disagree with me! i’d love to hear what some of you thought :))

#star wars #rogue one #baze #jyn erso #chirrut imwe #cassian andor #baze malbus #bohdi rook #k2so #star wars opinions #star wars critique #star wars review

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discotenny · 4 years

Text

!_MC With a Child_!

!Hallo! So I haven’t played Napoleon and Leonardo’s route asksnfjdjdkd. The only ones I’ve finished are Mozart, Vincent, and Arthur lol. And don’t worry about too much interacting so much , it makes me happy to know people read my stuff 🥺💕💕💕

And yea, I don’t think I can do the new characters justice, no matter how cute Charles is 🥵

Napoleon, Leonardo, Arthur, Theo, Comte

Napoleon

Throughout your entire stay, you had seemed worried or jumpy. The only time you weren’t was when you were with him

He thought you just liked his protection tbh

The time you two spent together meant the world to him

And you’d be lying if you said his presence didn’t distract you from the fact your little girl was stuck in France with her grandparents; wondering if her mom would ever return

But you’d be lying if you thought that leaving the man you had grown so found of would be so easy

Napoleon always wondered why you looked so sad whenever you two walked in the market. Or why you never visited the training school with him. Or how your eyes always seemed vacant when sweeping the halls

The final few grains of sand in the hourglass steadily approached the bottom. He knew it was selfish of him, but the feeling deep in his heart convinced him to ask you anyways.

“Nunuche,” he said when you brought him his meal

You looked at him puzzled, not saying a word. “Have you ever thought about... staying here?”

You turned to the side, placing the blanc down shakily

“No- I,” you had to take a breath, “I have someone waiting for me in my time.”

His heart dropped, a lover?

Looking at him, you knew what he was thinking. “It’s my daughter, not some lover. Lord knows he wouldn’t miss me,” you mumbled that last part bitterly

“Tell me about her,” he said, surprising you

And for once in your time staying in the mansion, you found someone to confide in. You spent the rest of your nights staying in Napoleon’s room, describing your daughter with so much compassion and love

He felt so much guilt basically asking you to leave all of that behind

Napoleon spent an entire night apologizing to you, saying sorry after sorry in hopes you wouldn’t feel any dislike towards him

That night you kissed him, interrupting his apologies and ceasing all of his guilt

You loved him, yes; but your daughter meant the world to you

On your final day, you walked hand in hand with him as you moved towards the rest of the residents

And then Comte surprised you, baring the news that Napoleon had asked for his permission to leave with you

Eyes widening, you turned to face him. “It was rather surprising, but the Comte allowed me. All I’m asking is that I get to spend as much as my life with you.”

You left with him that night. Saying goodbye to all of the residents, saying hello to your new life together

All you had to do was explain to your parents and your daughter why some strange man was with you after you went missing for a month

But that could be dealt with later 🤷‍♀️

Leonardo

He had asked it so casually. With you resting on his side, reading along as he turned the pages at his own pace

“Cara Mia, you should consider staying in this time”

Tracing a finger along your jawline, you didn’t look back at him the love struck way he had anticipated. You looked at him hurt; he didn’t like seeing you that way, especially not because of him

You breathed in heavily, tears threatening to roll down your face. “I have a son needs me back Leo. I can’t abandon him to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You left without a word, leaving the room in a hurry

It seemed as though you went out of your way to avoid him after that. He tried stopping you, attempting to strike casual conversation. It never worked though, and you spent your last few days either holed up in your room, briefly conversing with the other residents of the mansion, or confiding in Sebastian

Leo didn’t know what to say or what to do. When it was time for you to go back, you looked at him one final time and gave him a kiss

As the rest of the residents got their hugs and tear filled goodbyes, he stared at you bewildered

You left without a word to him. No words of goodbye. Just a single kiss and you were off

You belonged in another time with the one who deserves you the most

And maybe that’s what kills him. Maybe if he had thought about what he had said, Leonardo would have ended his time with you on a good not

But you were never his, and now you were gone

Arthur

So like I’m basing some plot points here off Arthur’s route. It’s been a while so some stuff may have been moved around lol

He found out about your son when you told him you weren’t a virgin anymore

With his talk about ruining your innocence and such, you just had to set the record straight

To be short, he was surprised

That didn’t stop him from hanging around you though. You two went around the town solving mysteries, and you genuinely looked like you were having fun

That is until you and Arthur stumbled upon the case with all of the orphans being trafficked by their caretaker

You were in shambles. You cried while Arthur was passed out, worrying for your son, worrying for Arthur

What if the same thing that happened to those orphans happened to your son when you dissappeared, you thought

It was irrational, you knew that. You knew that your son was with your parents at the time, you knew he should be safe. But what if he wasn’t?

When Arthur woke up you weren’t there. Sebastian had told him that you were in your room crying

Then he tells you about his doctor days. How he watched countless people die. How he watched that one little boy die. You two stayed in your room all night crying

Because of this, I genuinely believe Arthur wouldn’t ask the MC to stay with him. Arthur understands the worry someone has towards a child and how heartbreaking it can be to a parent to know you’ll never see your kid again. I cannot imagine him asking MC to stay with him if she has a child

He’ll look at you and your relationship, whatever is was at the time; and accept it. He’ll try and make you happy for the last few days you have in this time

And when it’s time to go?

He’ll send you off with a kiss and a flirtatious remark. When you give him a massive hug for it, that’s enough for him

Whatever Arthur feels for you at the time, any prospect of a continuing relationship dies as he knows he can’t possibly ask you to stay with him in the past

When you comeback, your little boy hears all of the adventures and mysteries that a playboy author and their sidekick solve together

Theodorus

Theo gets so conflicted

On one hand, he loves you too much to just let you slip away like that. You’re the only one besides his brother who he can love purely

On the other hand; Theo knows what it’s like to love someone unconditionally. How could he ever ask you to leave your daughter behind for him? Would he ever do the same for you if he had to decide between Vincent and you?

So despite being your kind of boyfriend but not really in a relationship, he attempts to ignore you on the upcoming days to your departure

It’s Vincent that explains to you what’s going on

You walk into Theo’s room and he tells you to get out

You don’t leave, instead sitting on his bed beside him as you begin to slowly lean your head on his shoulder

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” Theo couldn’t even muster an insulting name in his confliction

You look up at him, “but I want to”

“What about that kid of yours,” it’s your turn to stay quiet now

Theo’s the one that starts up conversation. “I think it’s best that we break up,”

It takes you everything in your soul to agree. With one final night spent together [having sex lol], you two end your relationship then and there

Vincent watches you two drift apart the coming days. He sees the tiredness in Theo’s eyes and your constant aversion to talking to the Van Gogh brothers

He doesn’t know how to fix it, and neither does Theo. So he tries to consol you two separately. Talking with Theo during the day, attempting to casually converse with you while you work

Vincent, the day before you’re supposed to leave, yet again asks you to check up on Theo. This time, he’s in the library

Theo on the other hand, gets a request from Vincent to retrieve a book for him. You and Theo see each other and are about to leave before you realize the doors are locked

With no other choice but to stay together until Sebastian or someone else opens it, you two are forced to talk things out

You explain that you love him, but you can’t possibly stay because of your daughter

Theo understands, and says he loves you too; he just can’t find it within himself to leave Vincent behind

The next day; when you’re supposed to leave, Theo kisses you and gives you a toy for your daughter

Your last words to him are, “Do me a favor. Love yourself just as much as you love Vincent and me”

He tries so hard to fulfill that promise, but his life is just empty without you in it

Comte

Comte already knew lol

He had discussed this with you when you first arrived. How you and your son were visiting the Louvre [is that the one from the game??] on holiday, and how worried you were for his safety

What he didn’t know is that the father was completely missing from you and your child’s life

Sooo

Big daddy Comte being the biggest daddy that he is decides to take you out every day to purchase gifts for your child

If not for them, to take your mind off of the worry

It gets to a point where you two are going out every other day to shop for your son

Is this healthy? Comte asks himself. No, not really. But he doesn’t know how to do anything else because he’s the reason why you can’t see your son

Through his guilt, something else blossoms

When he looks at the way your eyes light up when talking to him, when you happily approach him, something he hasn’t felt in years starts to blossom

He doesn’t ask you to stay with him. Instead, when the time you have to leave comes, you ask him to go with you

Because you bought too many toys and you need help carrying them

Because you want your son to know who’s been taking care of his momma the entire time

Comte almost cries right there

He can’t leave, but he makes a promise with you. Every other time the hourglass flips, he’ll visit you and deliver you and your son one of the toys you and he bought together

When your son asks you about the strange man who’s been giving him toys and playing catch-up with his momma; you tell him it’s a guardian angel

Comte definitely cries right there

I hope this was a good enough thing hshsjskw. I really like reading angst but I’m not that good at writing it lol. I changed up the prompt a bit [ofc I did I’m that bvtch] just do the scenarios wouldn’t be the same. Also I’m not that good at writing for Leonardo dejejsmrkd but my favorite to write was Arthur’s uwu

Enjoy~~

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp comte #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp x reader #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp angst #ikemen vampire headcanon #ikemen vampire scenarios #ikemen vampire x reader #ikemen vampire angst #ikevamp imagines #ikemen vampire imagines

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ask-professor-laurel · 3 years

Note

You’ve mentioned Team Rocket before, but what are your thoughts on some of the other criminal organizations and teams around? Does Galar have any, or is it just Team Yell bothering Gym Challengers specifically.

Frankly I can't stand any of them. I'm gonna exclude Team Skull and Team Yell from that, because they're more... nuisances, really, than anything, and Team Yell hasn't really been around since the end of the last Gym Challenge. Team Skull doesn't seem to really be doing much besides causing a hassle for some trainers, but they're pretty chill, as far as I've been told.

I really do just personally hate Team Rocket, which I think I'm very fair to do. I think Kanto and Johto need to get it together and stop sitting back and letting trainers deal with them- seriously, between their Elite 4 system and their champions, they shouldn't be letting regular trainers deal with these very dangerous people. Someone's going to get themselves killed when they run into a grunt or an admin who actually knows what they're doing and isn't a low-level grunt. Speaking from experience.

Team Aqua and Team Magma, I'll admit, sent me into hysterics when I read about their whole thing. It happened when I was quite a bit younger, so I don't remember the broadcasts and such, but reading about it after? I cannot begin to describe how stupid they were. Legendaries shouldn't be bothered for many reasons, especially legendaries as powerful as Groudon, Kyogre, and Rayquaza, so I don't know what they were thinking going after them. Pure arrogance, really, thinking anyone could control a legendary. As if Kyogre wouldn't eat them all without noticing. I think it's hilarious they've all but disbanded.

Team Galactic presents much more of a threat and I hear they're still crawling around Sinnoh, even without their leader. Cyrus? I think? His admins are probably still around. Anyways, they literally wanted to destroy the entire world, and had access to the perfect legendaries to do so. The fact that they're still around makes me nervous, in all honesty, because Sinnoh is host to... a lot of legendaries. With a lot of power. If they get close like that again, I just hope they don't rely on trainers to take care of it. Sinnoh has the same problem as Kanto and Johto; leave it to the trainers to do it, even though their champion is RIGHT THERE.

Team Plasma. I mean, they seem to be doing fine now, what's left of them anyways. Hard not to hear about that one when, what was it, didn't an entire castle just emerge from the ground? I don't know what's up with Unova but they're another region with a surplus of regional legendaries who can cause a lot of very real problems if taken under the wrong hands. I hope they don't start crawling out of the woodwork again, they're like Team Galactic to me. They make me nervous.

I know Kalos' presented a big threat but I'll be real, they were very... forgettable. They didn't really get anywhere, if I remember right. I mean, sure, Xerneas and Yveltal are terrifying forces of nature, but they didn't get too far with trying to get their hands on them.

Team Skull are just a nuisance. They're more funny than they are a threat, really, and their leader reigns them in when they're being too much. They've done a good job of sweeping it under the rug, but that Aether Foundation was definitely up to no good, and personally I think they had a lot more involvement with those Ultra Beasts showing up than they want to admit. Haven't been able to actually look into it, it's all covered up behind so many classified stickers and passwords that it's about impossible to get to from the outside.

Team Yell are hilarious. I'll say it; I thought they were hilarious whenever I ran into them, though I'm sure the Gym challengers hated their guts. I would've hated them when I was doing my own Gym Challenge, to be fair, but as someone on the outside? Hilarious. I hope they keep doing it. As for Macro Cosmos, I don't really consider them evil, it was really just Rose and Oleana doing wildly unethical things. Can't stand either of them, but with Rose it's a bit more personal.

I don't know what other regions are doing, but they really need to get it together. I think the Elite 4 and champion system they have just don't work- the Elite 4 is clearly just four of the strongest trainers they can find, across the region, and the champion is just the "strongest" trainer in the region. The champion also doesn't do much in those regions besides battle, same with the Elite 4. Here, being champion is a much more political position, with a lot of responsibility attached. When things go wrong, it's the champion's responsibility to step up. It's why we have long-reigning champions and why the tournament itself is so hard- you really have to prove your strength. Though I wish they'd stop letting kids compete- a 10 year old has no business being champion.

We have a much more effective method than a lot of other regions. And we've proven it- Team Rocket hasn't tried to come back for years after Leon scared the living daylights out of all of them. Rose is in jail, he would've been arrested even if he hadn't turned himself in. We crack down harder on bad people here, and there's a lot more involvement than just... regular trainers. I personally get involved in plenty of cases, everything from people trying to make their own bad guy teams, to shitty trainers who abuse their Pokemon. Honestly, other regions could learn a lot from how we handle things here. There's more to being a champion than keeping your title, and run of the mill trainers aren't an effective substitute for actual justice.

This got long, sorry, I just have a lot of opinions on these teams and organizations and how there's a lot of failings in how they've been dealt with.

#pokemon #professor laurel #arthur rambles #asked and answered #I will never understand how a champion in another region sits by #and lets a trainer that's massive under qualified deal with the very real threats in their region #the elite 4 system just seems like complete rubbish honestly #and the gym leaders do nothing but stay in their gyms and battle #like who do they rely on? when things turn south?#regular trainers apparently #drives me insane #it's not the responsibility of the average trainer to take on world-ending threats #or criminal organizations #especially when a lot of them are kids #it's irresponsible and dangerous

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