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warrioreowynofrohan · 7 months

Note

For the fanfic director’s cut: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

YAY thank you!! Do I get to take this as three sections? I’m gonna take it as three sections.

The first one isn’t really a section, it’s the title of The Castaway, which I kept expecting/wanting to be asked about but never was. I finished the fic without having yet thought of a title and this one came to me as a melded reference to a combination of Calvinism, Cowper, and Victor Hugo (combined with the imagery fitting well with Maglor spending millennia wandering the shoreline).

The word “castaway” is connected to the Calvinist concept of predestination, referring to a person predestined to damnation; it shows up in a fair amount of 1800s English literature, including the Brontës. It's also the inspiration for Cowper’s poem of the same name (people may recognize from the 1995 Sense and Sensibility, where Edward’s emotionless reading of it frustrates Marianne).

Obscurest night involved the sky, The Atlantic billows roared, When such a destined wretch as I Washed headlong from on board Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, His floating home for ever left....

No voice divide the storm allayed, No light propitious shone, When, snatched from all effectual aid, We perished, each alone: But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelmed in deeper gulfs than he.

There's a scene of remarkably similar imagery in Les Misérables, as a symbolic evocation of society casting off the convict.

A man overboard! What matters it! the ship does not stop,. The wind is blowing, that dark ship must keep on her destined course. She passes away... He implores the blue vault, the waves, the rocks; all are deaf. He supplicates the tempest; the imperturbable tempest obeys only the infinite. Around him are darkness, storm, solitude, wild and unconscious tumult, the ceaseless tumbling of the fierce waters; within him, horror and exhaustion. Beneath him the engulfing abyss. No resting place.... The sea is the inexorable night into which the penal law casts its victims.

This all exists in the context of the abundance of Christian hymns that describe salvation as being saved from shipwreck:

I was sinking deep in sin, far from the peaceful shore Very deeply stained within, sinking to rise no more But the master of the sea heard my despairing cry From the waters lifted me, now safe am I! Love lifted me, love lifted me When nothing else could help, love lifted me Love lifted me, love lifted me When nothing else could help, love lifted me!

So, all of that came together to feel like suitable symbolic associations for a fic that is oriented around the question of at what point, if ever, a person can be considered irredeemable, and about the nature of grace and of hope.

For a second one, I'm going to pick the end of Raised by Wolves. This is in one sense kind of the opposite of the The Castaway, in that it ends with Elrond not forgiving Maglor; but that's not exactly it.

The entirety of Raised by Wolves is about Elrond working through his complex and conflicting feelings about Maglor and his upbringing; the way that Maglor separated him from his family and, by his very care and fostering, alienated him from being part of the culture that he truly identifies with, that of the Sindar.

The issue is not one of Elrond being too angry with Maglor to forgive. The issue is that that forgiveness would need to come from Maglor being willing to hear and understand and acknowledge Elrond's emotions and pain in all their complexity, and let that conversation be about Elrond's feelings, not his own. And Maglor's not willing/able to do that; he's still focused on his own feelings and his own guilt.

Maglor's formed his own idea of what he would hear from Elrond. And because he's not willing to open himself up to that conversation, he doesn't find out that he's not going to hear that, and that instead he would have heard something that was painful in an entirely different way. Elrond's sentiments about the mix of good and bad in that fosterage involve very different things than Maglor's, things that Maglor has never considered. Maglor's guilt is centred on the obvious - that he killed nearly everyone Elrond knew, separated him from his family, and made his life far more dangerous. The idea that raising him as a Noldor - something Maglor couldn't help doing, as it permeates everything he knows - was a wrong, and that is something it's harder for Elrond to deal and forgive with than the more obvious wrongs, is something that hasn't even occurred to him. Having that conversation is something that would be good for both Elrond and Maglor, but one of Maglor's basic personality flaws is conflict-avoidance, and he can't bring himself to open himself up to it.

For a third one - this is going to be more of a confession. Gnawing Itself In Bitterness is the first fic I ever wrote, and is very short (less than a thousand words), about Fëanor in halls of Mandos brooding on how everything is everyone else's fault (the Valar, Fingolfin, Maedhros...). It basically evokes why I have trouble imagining Fëanor ever leaving the Halls - not because he's been sentenced to never leave, but because he's stuck in a resentful, self-deceptive spiral that will never acknowledge he could have been wrong.

It's also pretty much taken directly from C.S. Lewis' The Last Divorce, something I didn't realize until years later when I reread the book and noticed with a shock that I had echoed Lewis' depiction of Napoleon Bonaparte in the afterlife so closely (at least, in that the fic started and ended with "It was all the fault of the Valar..." and continued in that tone throughout) that that must have been my subconscious inspiration:

"What was he doing?" "Walking up and down - up and down all the time - left-right, left-right - never stopping for a moment. The two chaps watched him for about a year and he never rested. And muttering to himself all the time. "It was Soult's fault. It was Ney's fault. It was Josephine's fault. It was the fault of the Russians. It was the fault of the English." Like that all the time. Never stopped for a moment."

Thank you so much for this opportunity to ramble about my stuff! <3

#tolkien #the silmarillion #fanfic #maglor #elrond #feanor #asks

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witsserviceablesubstitute · 2 years

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It makes sense that Alistair Lowe is the one to get preoccupied with deeper romantic fancies because he’s the character with the biggest death wish and the least experience connecting with people outside his family.

Alistair’s first thoughts of Isobel: “Tall, wants to kill me.” *Immediately reflects back her confident front.*

Alistair’s first thoughts of Gavin: “Big, wants to kill me." *Immediately mimics Gavin’s belligerence to use against his Mother.*

Alistair is more receptive to softer emotional connections in the tournament because his defenses have been stripped away by grief, fear is so normal to him that it's almost mundane, and he barely cares about continuing to live for himself. He knows it too, I do love a self aware character.

Meanwhile the others are either desperate with fear or deep in self delusions that keep them from fear, and that's something they have to overcome before any real connections can be made.

Honestly, putting aside the horror of what the Lowe’s do to ensure their victory, it is not even a good tactic. How brain-numbingly foolish to send an emotionally shattered teenager into a tournament where they are supposed to be sharp and focused. Also, I can’t get over Marianne saying that serving the family also means having babies for the legacy and then them sacrificing the handsome, charming almost adult who could provably make romantic connections outside the Lowe estate. Aside from Alistair, who has a 1/7th chance of dying, their only other 'investment' in future progeny was an 8-year-old oddball (that I love). Like, what is their plan for 20 years time? Send a 10-year-old (at most) off into a death tournament? Shaking Marianne Sr. until her brain fell out would have been futile because it obviously already had, but I wanted to anyway. At least Hendry got his justice.

#alistair lowe #all of us villains #all of our demise #isobel macaslan #gavin grieve #all of us villains spoilers #all of our demise spoilers #hendry lowe #the isolationism keeps the kids from realising how horrifically abusive their situation is #and thats part of the point of the purpose the lowes serve in the story #but i find them the least realistic #mainly because their tactics would have wiped them out centuries ago #their dark fairytale vibes were immaculate #however

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dcwnthercbbithcle · 1 year

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✔

Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse! || ALWAYS ACCEPTING

My muse(s): Almost all of my muses could be used with Marianne! I'm not joking! Given a bit of conversation to ensure she can slot in/they can slot into whatever universe your prefer, I can give you anyone from Rubedo to the Cooking Ghouls!

Just for a couple of ideas, I will throw out my main fellas of Fiadh, Leshy, 8713 or any of my ASOIAF muses (given a bit of tweaking to make them more straight up period fantasy! Haha)

Highkey, though, high key?? I WOULD KILL FOR A FIADH AND MARIANNE THREAD!! I know the dynamic will be delicious especially given both of their similar yet different backgrounds and points of view on things like divinity, fate and power! Plus the whole cynical, realistic, and steadfast by her beliefs added into a thread with the sort of smiling nihilist that finds the mystic and emotional to be as simple as 1 + 1 is bound to end with endless entertainment!

Do I know your muse(s): YES | no | a little | TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR MUSE

Pre-established relationships? YES| no | DEPENDS ON THE RELATIONSHIP

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first-impressions-gaming · 1 month

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The Medium

Developed & Published by Bloober Team

Release Date 2021

Tested on Xbox Series X

MSRP 49,99 USD

youtube

Has there been any phenomenon in your life that you felt the presence of dual reality? A different world apart from the world you have grown used to? Well, Marianne has felt this, has experienced this feeling for years in The Medium, and she is expecting to get answers to understand it, to grasp the meaning of ‘it’, what it means, what it entails, what it ‘is’ in essence.

The Medium presents itself as a psychological horror so it does not make use of jump-scares that often, the core of the ‘horror’ elements are within this eerie vibe and sense of the world we are in, which means that a person such as me who do not enjoy horror movies or games can enjoy this game because the game does not make use ‘scaring’ you all the time to keep you hooked into the game. The atmosphere itself is stranger to you, and you never know what lies ahead, and what awaits you. Welcome to Niwa Resort, dear guest.

So, what is this game about? We are playing as Marienne, a female in her 30s, who has been having same nightmare for a long time about a girl being shot by the lake. Marienne has had this feeling of ‘dual’ world reality for a while but never came to explain it to anybody the whole time, an unknown person named Thomas calls Marienne, invites her to Niwa Resort to meet, saying that he knows what she has been experiencing. The game is set in 1999, post-soviet era Poland. Niwa Resort is the main location of the game, a resort that has been shut down after a massacre that took place, and it has been abandoned ever since with no clear-cut explanation to the incident.

In order not to spoil the ‘fun’ of it, I’ll talk about the mechanics and overall aura of the location. The major promise of the game is ‘dual’ worlds, Material and Spirit Worlds. Once you read these names, you may think ‘oh, Material one is the real world, and the other is just the mirror universe’, but no. The Spirit World is just as ‘real’ as the Material World. The message narrated by Marienne is that Spirit World is a realm that most of the people cannot see or fathom, Marienne has been able to experience Spirit World bit by bit over the years, and she knows that Material World does not exist on its own, there is more to it. This is when Spirit World comes into the topic. Spirit one is not a distorted version of our ‘real’ world, it’s a world on its own with its rules, conditions and existence. This dual reality becomes more contrasting as you step into Niwa Resort and as you progress, this feature is not just an eye-candy, it has more to it. First and foremost, Marienne exists in both realms at the same time, which means that when you are walking in Material World, your character is also moving in Spirit World, therefore you cannot independently move Marienne in each world at the same time. What’s more, if you come across an obstacle in a world, such as the stairs are damaged and you cannot progress, you cannot progress in the other world as well. Your, sort of, physical presence is bound to both realities and you cannot just simply ‘exit’ the world you are in. What you can do is that, you can ‘step out of’ your self in Material World and move around in Spirit World only, but you have limited time with this. For example, if your path is blocked in Material World, you can leave your Material self behind and move with Spirit one and find a way around to enable you to progress.

Dual reality:

youtube

You know what? I just love that how this game impresses me with unexpected dual realities, this surprise element is especially crucial at beginning chapters, this awakes an emotion in you ‘do you really know the realm you are in? Well, let me introduce you to Spirit World’.

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‘Insight’ feature is another major mechanic in the game. In this mode, the game guides you and highlights foot tracks, objects to interact, enables to see items which hidden or concealed. In addition to these features, there are some objects you will come across that are essential for story and progression, once you focus on these objects on the highlight parts you get to listen to voices from the past, including routine conversations between people and inner voices. These ‘echoes’ work as codex entries for you, which fill in the gaps in the story right before the mysterious massacre. As a player, I welcome these light-flashbacks because I wish to care for the location I am in and these voice recordings from objects are just great.

You can take a look below at echoes:

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The Medium is not the ultimate game for horror or thriller, what it offers is that a mix of adventure and horror game with linear gameplay and straightforward story, building an original story and world with dual realities enabling the player to experience two worlds at the same time.

#game #gaming #games #game review #the medium #xbox #playstation #nintendo switch #Youtube

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soft1scream · 1 month

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this moment made me write for something real, that i thought to myself— this moment didn't turn the pages over— it started the book.

i like to think that there's no hell for those who never believed in heaven— i guess there is really something in those formative years. however, here i am fondling all the fury behind my poetic persona just because i ended up in a state of disbelief as i can no longer sneak yellow in a black canvas.. and so i'm writing because finishing the drawing is the only option.

.. and i'm writing because i'm a stutter.

where i am isn't something i dreamed of, as a spiritual cruiser, perhaps an easy rider. i want to do well with education, thus i’m graduating soon, yet, the thought of steering my own path from here on out is something only i see difficult accepting. i haven't emblazoned my strongest version yet. when standing, i'm a quarterback, when lying, i'm dreaming in paperback. still, i'm crossing the threshold, unsure of life over there, hoping— that day, i will have a home for all of my habitats and be able to choose horror rather than my usual habits.

my younger self has always dreamt of going to a different city, away from this tropical— non smoking country, live life and not just watch myself survive and have fun and be young forever and be forever beautiful and be the once in my family's lifetime. i dream of something bigger than who i am, i dream in 15 stories high, or just to see skyline underwater. yes, i will keep scintillating in incandescent scenes just like how lyrical obscurity will forever just be enigma to machines. will i blossom like a rose in a garden full of weeds or could the smog end me like the ashes that have watched over my deeds?

i am still forced to be the skeleton that helps them sleep better at night, that's why i search for pedestals of human to avoid the view from their height. however, im okay for everything that was done to me that we're part of the reason i am who i am today, either by shattering me then turning me more refined or by abandoning me.. but i'm really grateful for those people i met while trying to find the person i call 'myself' that didn't alter or hinder the reflection that followed me every step of the way. this year was built to be a castle in the air, to make me realize, i'm not the only person in this world, that the world doesn't revolve around my desires. that i dream for something bigger than who i am. i would love to see the world as marianne as the people around me.

i contemplated a lot during the times i was able to do so, realizing.. i have said "realizing" too many times now for my liking. i'm not used to realizing, most of the time i just don't wanna know.. anyways.. i realized that people just don't believe any of my kindness. that because i'm usually strong, people don't believe me if i get weak. not even my family or friends. even the poems i write won't get used to the fact that i am not what i used to be. and i don't want to be misunderstood for feeling what i want to feel or for feeling what i don't want to feel.

i believe that i am more than what i show— what i reveal. deeper than what i say or how i act or how i put emotions to every words. it's my nature to pretend like im strong, it acts as an alibi to hide the fact that i'm weak and vulnerable and sensitive and careful and sad and tragic and beautiful but no hope... and it's hard being a weak skeleton in a thick skin, always feeling unloved and wronged. which in the end, my fault. for showing everybody how a person with applaudable background with no applauses behaves. but it can never be my fault that in this house, i cannot feel happiness. can't feel sadness, anger, pity or hunger. and once i feel stressed, i will be justified. i may seem normal, but my life is difficult. i live in a terrible house, never experiencing home. i guess i'm nasty and evil, but if you've seen what i can still remember, you'll understand me. it's very unfortunate that the person who has the most potential to love was given a family who never believed in that stuff.

sometimes, when i think about it and writing about it, i let my teardrops wet the paper because it's somehow giving me the satisfaction of having to get to feel any emotion— as if i'm watering the rose from my very own grave— but then again, water takes away the letters from the paper— leaving me with indelible mistakes that makes me want to just pantomime my feelings. when i'm lonely— i feel alone— i lie in my bed, but it doesn't help as the bed's too wide for me, or that one bottle of pepsi is too much to drink. god, i wish i have always preferred thunder from the rain.

i want to talk about how i love a man— which i never ever opened my mouth for. most of the time, i'm just in love with the idea that we're completely different from each other, which is the standard for most movies but never in a reality tv show. if i need some man to tell me i look pretty, my body is tiny, i'm his wallpaper or that he draw my face upside down black and white— sure i can easily get these words from men, but if i tell you, i want someone to give me 15 anniversaries, quiet when there's something wrong, and laughs when i'm overreacting and won't tell me that it's enough!.

i'm really grateful for my friends who cured all the headaches i gave them. there's no greater feeling than being burnt out after spending the day with them. when i'm tired but i look back on times i was happy. the source of me laying down is also the source of what keeps me getting up. for them. for fun.

tw: pissed

if i won't be a superstar, i will be a writer or close to a storyteller, but it's difficult when people will constantly overlook me, waste my potential that's deep within me like i wasn't built to show them, they put my talent on somewhere it don't fit, and they take away the light in me when i know im so much better than all of them. i'm fuming to witness my talents misplaced, relegated to places where they fail to shine, and to endure the dimming of my light at the hands of individuals who fail to see my worth. do you know how patronizing it is for me to witness them show up in a funny smirk while i'm trying to find a place i belong.. to be beneath the skin of a writer, an actual escaper, a city light underwater.. do you know how patronizing it is to assume that i would somehow prefer tasks of lesser difficulty simply because you doubt my ability to handle more challenging ones. your assumption not only diminishes my potential but also undermines my confidence.. who the fuck do you think you are?.. to confine me within the boundaries of your narrow perception. do you know how discouraged i was when i showed there not to do anything good in their eyes then not be involved but then get credited after all? it's nice, thanks for the recognition, but it pains to realize that my efforts are overlooked until it's convenient to acknowledge them. do you know how discouraged i am these past few days, and when i'm discouraged, i bet i will think i'm quitting and i bet i'd feel like a loser. do you know how it pains me when writing turned out to be the only thing i'm good at and then feeling that i failed at the one thing i've ever tried.. just because there's someone who thinks they're a so much better writer than me. and i know, i have to bleed ink onto every page to prove that. do you know how embarrassing it is to claim to be a writer then read rather than write, or listen because i have weak attention span. my imagination doesn't run wild but if there's one thing about me, i know how to write. i think about all the failed attempts of my writing journals for a platform that follows a format. it's not my fault i am built not to fit in. they're not gonna judge me for the way i write or me as a writer. they can try but they won't make my words or letters so much better

i'm a metaphor for those who once felt overlooked, misunderstood, and unlovable. i still have something to say, even now that i already wrote an eight pager. i'm a straightforward mouth with a pretty face. i'm a coffee for those who never drank coffee. strong at first, but will tell you to wake the fuck up. i believe that everyone should have a "france" in their life— this is reality, live in it. i always carry the burden of going home, and it's hard to carry the burden of staying the same. when i'm not hungry anymore, i'm leaving this country. if i ever feel like writing again, trust me you will know— cause i'll be posting about it. 💋

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13thwitch · 1 year

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About the writer: Marianne, 29, she/her, EST. I’ll answer to Ani or Mari, as well. This blog will feature triggering material, including plot-appropriate violence, sex, drug/alcohol use, discussion of abuse, and other potentially triggering content. I will tag all common triggers, and almost anything I am asked to tag (formatted as #tw: [trigger]). Please take care if you follow!

Please tag cancer, sexual violence of any kind (including ‘dubious consent’ and somnophilia), and images of spiders.

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This blog is mutuals only. If I follow you, I want to write with you! OCs, multimuses, and crossovers are always welcome! I don’t make starter calls, so if we’re mutuals please feel free to send memes, turn meme replies into threads, message me to plot, or like my plotting call if you’d like to interact.

My time is limited and this is for fun and I will not follow, unfollow, or block users as I see fit. If I unfollow or block, it’s simply because I don’t want to see something on my dash; it’s not a personal statement against someone. For my own comfort, I will only follow back writers who are 21+ and have that age range present on their blogs. If I unfollow because your blog has been inactive for a while, please let me know when you come back! I don’t experience duplicate (character or face claim) anxiety or insecurity.

Standard rules apply: don’t romanticize Nazis, don’t be an asshole about “dark themes” (which can be written well & respectfully), and don’t guilt and manipulate your followers. I won’t interact with portrayals that engage in whitewashing or racist recasting, or transphobic recasting. I don’t enjoy writing with characters that are completely devoid of flaws, vulnerabilities, or weaknesses; it’s just not any fun for me when the rules of whichever universe we’re playing in don’t apply to one of the characters involved.

I don’t have a lot of patience for public nastiness. Everyone vagues from time to time, and that’s not a huge deal, but everyone here is an amateur and publicly disparaging another amateur’s harmless work—which has been presented to you without layers of editing by various professionals—doesn’t make you funny or interesting, it makes you kind of an asshole. We’re all too old for this. On that note, I’m not interested in seeing callouts that amount to airing personal grievances.

on canon & fandoms.

THE SOURCE MATERIAL FOR THIS BLOG IS EXTREMELY DISTURBING AND FEATURES TRIGGERING CONTENT. PLEASE DO NOT FOLLOW THIS BLOG IF IT WILL BE HARMFUL TO YOUR WELL-BEING. Canonically, the show deals with topics including cancer, parent death, adoption trauma, drugging, rape, incest, abuse (including psychological, emotional, physical, and sexual) and gaslighting, forced pregnancy and childbirth, and both pregnancy and childbirth as horror themes. Major, recurring themes include bodily autonomy, gaslighting and abuse recovery, and generational trauma. Please proceed with caution and only follow this blog if you're comfortable seeing those themes represented and explored.

I love crossovers and AUs and have a million of them. Any verses with significant canon divergence, or significant canon intervention, will have extended biographies available to read. There are only a handful of fandoms I will not interact with, for my own comfort and preferences. Find the list here.

on relationships.

I love playing with established relationships of any nature. Come and plot with me if you want to jump right into a dynamic of any kind! I am always open to new ships — I love shipping, and it’s one of my favorite things about collaborative writing. You are always welcome to approach me to talk about ships; it’s not force-shipping in the slightest, and chances are, I’m already excited about it.

This show deals very heavily with incest, generational trauma, abuse, and sexual violence. While any and all of these topics may be referenced (in threads or in her backstory), I won't write incest (relationships between second cousins, or closer). I will not at any point ship Rowan with Lasher; while I will explore the abuse to which he subjected her, and her fascination with and even attraction to the power he possesses, he did abuse her (and her mother, and likely every other designee). Whenever that relationship is referenced, it will be treated as abusive. While I am very comfortable writing complicated relationships, I won't romanticize abuse or toxicity, or write explicit abuse scenes.

Unlike the show's writers, I do not see Ciprien as "deranged," "controlling," or "just like Carlotta," and will not be writing their relationship as such, nor will I write Rowan as considering him to be any of those things.

Here’s a quick rundown on my shipping policies.

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Please understand that the source material I draw from deals with extremely triggering material, including (but not limited to) canonical violence, sex, drug/alcohol use, abuse, incest, and forced pregnancy and childbirth. All of these topics will be dealt with on this blog with care and gravity, and will be appropriately tagged. Please take care of yourself!

All NSFW images and text will be tagged as #nsfw; and will neither write nor reblog NSFW content regarding minors.

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tidesages · 1 year

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<<the truth about tropos>>

(a tale for sister pyre) (WARNING: body horror)

Everything hurt.

The pain fluctuated in waves and spikes, exacerbated if Marianne dared move a muscle. Still, it was constant and overwhelming. The only way she could tell time was from the healer sages and their words… something like a week had passed? Perhaps two? She drifted in and out of consciousness frequently, though even her dreams were tinted with the hazy discomfort.

Being bed-bound had given her time to think, between waves. She’d been stupid, assuming those who’d fallen were dead, and even more so when she hadn’t brought them in as well. If they’d all been locked up, perhaps the Shrine wouldn’t have had to bear its flooding at the hands of one angry sage.

Even now, the memory of that cold face made her want to get up and flee. Was this what the Tidemother could have looked like, if she were given form? Was this her punishment for thinking Taggin could be saved? The memory of Worth’s face was so associated with pain that her entire body once more throbbed with agony. It took a will of steel to remind herself that she was still in the infirmary and that the pain would pass.

Without her willing it, the face morphed into another. Bronze skin and curly black hair paled, turned fair with straight and greyed brown locks. Soft lines turned hard and cruel, staring down his nose in her memory. The words floated along with him, in Taggin’s voice.

Couldn’t make an example of him, so it’s on me now?

Marianne’s eyes were already shut, but she squeezed them tighter. Oh, she’d royally bungled that up, hadn’t she? Her resentment had gotten in the way of her duty, and she’d needled where she needed to be understanding. Not to mention that she had given in on some points where she hadn’t intended to, all due to her emotions being manipulated.

Maybe this was what had drawn others to Taggin, tides damn her. She had to pull them in by twisting her words, rather than by being any sort of good person. Doing good took effort and sacrifice, and that cultist had never experienced either.

And yet… Maybe I could understand, if you told me. Marianne gave a low groan into the air, one that held more pain than that which spiked in her bones.

Her mind was running in circles, and her body was a prison in which she stalked like a rat in a cage. Perhaps this was how Taggin had felt… but no, she was doing it again. Stop that, Marianne.

So consumed was she that the steps to her bed went unnoticed. At least, until the familiar voice spoke up. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Marianne.” Ah. That was Tobias. No one could sound as smug as him, even when he had no right to be. Especially when he had no right to be. “But I’d heard you had a bad run-in with the sage that flooded the lower half of the Shrine, so I had to visit.”

There was a little huff as he sat down in the chair beside her bed - not that she could see, she kept her eyes shut. It wasn’t like she could move, or even speak without pain, so what was the point. “I wanted to let you know that I made it back alright. They drove off that brute at Fort Daelin, and now I’m here.” He paused, and she could imagine him wiping sweat off of his neck. Probably what he deserved. Her thoughts weren’t very charitable right now.

“Given the losses, I’ll need to take some time to fortify the Shrine and work on finding new initiates. We may need to take on more mainlanders - of acceptable races, of course - in order to start filling things up again. The upside is that there’s less chance of unfortunate leanings, though they’ll have things to unlearn. The downside is that this will take a lot of work, and I’ll need to recall some monastery sages to help teach.” Tobias leaned back in his chair. “Once everything’s set up, I’ve got my plans for the cultist island. This shouldn’t take further soldiers or sages, though. I’ve got it handled, and Pike won’t need to know about that part, bless his soul.”

Finally, he stood up, and Marianne could have sighed in relief if it wouldn’t aggravate broken ribs. But the next words chilled her blood. “About Taggin and the others… I can’t really blame them for going after you, with the way you’ve been hounding them. I made a deal to not go after them, very kind I know, so they won’t be my problem. You’re on your own, so I suggest you do the same to prevent further trouble. We have bigger fish to fry with all those k’thir.”

“Make the right choice, Marianne. I know you’re a sensible girl who’ll see my way, won’t you?” With that, he strode off with the click of boots upon stone floors. All she could do was seethe motionlessly in her own bed.

Who was he to tell her what to do? They were supposed to be working together to cleanse the Shrine! How would any new sages be safe if there was always the chance that cultists like Taggin and her ilk could waltz in. Securing the Shrine like Tobias had mentioned would be impossible… the mountain was like cheese. It was full of holes, and possible friends who would help betray the Wake for their comrades.

There was no comfort in his words, and for a long and vengeful moment she wished he had died in his attack on Kraken’s Refuge. It wasn’t a feasible thing to wish for, but she could still dream if nothing else.

Oh, Marianne. Again, she’d been too preoccupied to hear any sound, but this one rattled in her head rather than in her ears. What have you gotten into this time?

Her eyes flew open. Nothing was visible, really… the private room in the infirmary ward was quiet and bare, with lanterns set up and the chair beside her empty. She was alone, wasn’t she?

Nearly beaten to death, and by Worth Farthing of all sages. That sounded almost unreasonably amused before it continued, And not only is Taggin gone again, you can’t even stop her. Not like this, anyway. And there’s no help from your partners on the council. Montague has his own plans, and Pike’s been… distant, to say the least. Finally, her searching eyes found a black slick sliding over the edge of the covers, rising up slightly into a smooth blob that watched her sightlessly.

The struggle of being unable to speak drew another fierce ache through her, one she couldn’t escape from as a tear formed in her eye. Don’t fret, Marianne. Just think the words, and I’ll hear them. I’m here to make things easier for you. The ink rose in place, slightly higher, to meet her eye level.

She was certainly good at thinking, but it was one thing to have thoughts flash across her mind like lightning and another to think with the intention of being heard. Why are you here? It couldn’t sound as firm as she liked to in her head.

Am I really so surprising? With a sinuous slither, more ink rose from beneath the bed to approximate a more human-sized shape with pits for a face. I told you I’d get back to you when you needed me more. I’d like for you to reconsider our offer, if you’re willing.

Bile climbed up into the back of her throat and made it burn. Another discomfort to add to the list. I have a hard time reconsidering if I don’t even know what the offer is, she thought bleakly. How awful was it that she was even entertaining the notion?

This drew the ink together, and it twisted in what was possibly contemplation. Seeing it threading around itself, and the ‘face’ moving in lazy circles, was a bit sickening, so she turned her gaze away. Essentially, what I’m offering is for us to form a little bond. There was a note of amusement at its wording there. I offer you my powers to their fullest extent… powers that make Farthing seem like the amateur that he is… and in turn I get the protection of being bound to you. That makes the two of us harder to kill, in fact. I can even heal you from this wretched state that you’re in, and help you get up from this bed today.

This was a lot more tempting than it had sounded before. Marianne didn’t let the thought rise to the surface, though, struggling for that same level of skepticism. If you have that much power, you don’t need me. And how am I supposed to know that this power isn’t the very same as that which I’ve been fighting to remove from the Shrine? The latter question was definitely one she’d thought over in those passing months since the last time they’d met. Even if it was tied to a storied tidesage artifact, there had to be something truly wrong with it.

The ink slumped into formlessness as a mental sigh shook through her head. It drew out an answering twinge from her healing bones. You hold so much mistrust, Marianne. I’m not lying to you here. Something bubbled from within, slowly pulling more ink upward… until a glimmer of white caught the corner of her eye. She looked back, and a tooth had appeared from within the ink. A molar, buoyed up by the liquid.

Tropos was a fine fellow who wanted to know too much. The tooth slowly began to wander around the column of ink, followed by Marianne’s gaze. He asked for power from the Tidemother, and got more than what he bargained for. Because, my dearest, truth is really such a subjective thing. People don’t want to know the truth, because it can be so painful. Truth is the blade slicing away at the ropes and string that keep people together, the little lies that help them live with themselves. Her face must have twitched, because it added, You lie to yourself as well. If you hadn’t, you would have already come clean about why you want Taggin to suffer so much.

That’s truth I can ignore because there are real reasons to go after her, Marianne retorted without having to think about it. Why should I come clean about those feelings if they don’t matter, in the end? She wanted to squirm away - already it had dug into a part of her that hurt - but wasn’t that the point? If she was going to win, she not only had to hold onto enough power to defeat them, but she had to confront any lies that could cause complications. But I see your point. Go on.

The towering mass of ink quivered in silent laughter. You can say that I’m a separate part of that same power for truth. A bit twisted, true, but everything in life has at least a bit of shadow in it. The Tidemother made both the shallows and the depths, did she not? There is a place for darkness in the world, as long as there’s not too much. As long as it’s controllable. It let that sink in, as it continued to stain the blankets. It takes someone with a strong will, like you, to control that power and keep it from being misused.

Marianne involuntarily rolled her eyes. Another point, perhaps, but you might be laying it on a bit thick. And what about that protection you mentioned? Why would you need that? If this was even going to be something she could entertain, to accept as a bond, then she needed to know the answers to the important questions.

Taggin wields a dagger that can trap me… one that I have no guard against. It sure sounded reluctant there, she noted silently. Of course, with some flesh in the way to stop her, and my healing, it shouldn’t be a problem for us. But I have a feeling that your next work with her will be more successful than the last. Slowly, it swirled back into an approximation of a figure at her bedside. Those blank pits that passed for eyes stared at her.

The worst part about all of this was that the instant she started to consider, she knew she’d take the bargain. Not because she liked it, but because it was necessary. She’d run out of other options… in this hunt she’d be alone, without any sort of help to stop the worst criminals against the Shrine. And a lone sage, even as part of the council, stood no chance.

It rankled her. But it gave her hope, dangerously so, and she allowed herself to believe that she could win.

Ahhhhhh. The sound was accompanied by the hiss of sliding ink. Remember, I can’t hurt you when we’re one. Not only would it be counterproductive, I can’t destroy what is part of me. It knew it had her, really, before she could think an actual word. But it couldn’t act until she’d given permission.

Very well then. The thought was a sigh of its own, air given through her nose with a sharp pain in her ribs. How do we do this…?

Just leave it to me, promised the ink. I’ll take good care of you. Slowly, tenderly, it lowered down over the prone woman. A pitch-black tendril escaped the mass and traced down her cheek, the soft touch of a lover. Her eyes fell shut to anticipate the loss of pain. She couldn’t relax, but there was no fear. For a moment.

Then the ink pushed between her lips. It tasted metallic, bitter, with a hint of brine. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for, and Marianne’s eyes flew open. She couldn’t do more than twitch, though, and it slid in deeper to start sliding its way down her throat. Soon, her chest heaved with a retch, trying to expel the foreign material, but this only sent another white-hot stab through her bones. It didn’t deter the intrusion.

It was then that she realized that she was in trouble, as her mouth was filled with cold and sticky fluid that seemed intent on crawling its way into her stomach. The world turned hazy with the tears filling her eyes, and she shuddered uselessly in her fleshy prison. It was also sliding into her airway, and she choked uselessly. Of course now it would suffocate her, and she could only struggle to try to breathe past the sliding ink along her airways.

Don’t fight it, Marianne. Black crept over her vision, impossible to tell if it was from being without air or if the ink had also slid into her eyes. She could still feel dampness covering her corneas. You won’t die. Not yet. This was far from comforting.

As the ink burrowed its way deeper, she began to shudder without stop. Her body was moving without her permission, shivers running from head to toe and lighting up flickers of agony with each motion. She had to be dying, and when it was done there would be nothing left. Despite that, she could feel the sharp edges of something sliding down her throat washed down with ink. The Tooth. It hit the back of her throat and her stomach roiled once more in protest. This only forced the ink up slightly, and it continued to force its way down into her.

Where did it end? The thing had settled over her like a blanket and pressed down upon her… the trembling hadn’t stopped, though, and her back was arching against the restraining force. Oh Tidemother, it was everywhere. Everywhere it could touch, she could feel it trying to slide itself into her body like a hand pouring water into a pot.

Before she could contain all of the ink, the darkness enveloped her mind, and she passed out.

Even here, free from pain and terror, she wasn’t alone. I’d forgotten how little tolerance the body has for pain. Sadly, there wasn’t another option for what we need.

Have you done this before? At least now that she couldn’t feel the pain, there was enough time to be curious.

Tropos, or whatever its name was, felt… slightly apprehensive. The emotion echoed in her briefly, as if they had both been seated in a boat that had abruptly swayed. Once. There was a politician who sought the Tooth for his own gain. But he was an arrogant fool whose schemes took him down, and me with him. A man’s face flashed across her mind with the words, with solemn gnomish features and rectangular glasses. You… you’re different. We chose this, you and I. Our purposes are one.

Marianne’s unhappiness with the whole bonding bled through, met with something almost like sympathy from the ink. It won’t be long. In fact, I can probably wake you up now. You should be in far less pain. She hesitated at the answer… then agreed, silently.

I want to see who I am. If I’m still me.

When she woke, she could see. For the most part.

Colors had just a bit more tint to them, with odd little outlines that seemed to swim strangely. The glow from the lanterns sent fractal patterns along the walls that were almost enough to distract her from the rest of the changes.

Her body felt… longer. Perhaps that was a good way to describe it, as if it was scraped too thinly over what was contained within. Her feet hung over the edge of the bed, and when she glanced down, the tips of her toes looked far too black. With odd little points that lightly shone with the gleam of ink above the now-stained grey coverlet.

Marianne sat up slowly, and her body informed her that pain was still an option, but she could tell that her bones seemed stronger. Stronger, but still healing. She could see more ink creeping into the coverlets, and her mouth was wet with darkness creeping in, but that didn’t matter so much now.

Looking down, she could see that her hands had lengthened as well, skin pulled tighter against extended bones. Her fingernails had been stretched and blackened in turn with sharp points curving slightly into a clawed shape.

Well, years in a dull sage robe had removed most of her hangups about her own appearance. Marianne gave a sigh, and murmured, “I wasn’t going to win an award anyway.” Her voice vibrated strangely in her chest, with an extra layer of something deepening each vowel and consonant. Were those her words still, or theirs?

Just as quickly, she could feel its thoughts as clear as her own. You look perfect, Marianne. She gave a small snort, then stood with some effort. Ink pooled in her marrow and the pain faded. The blankets and bedding behind her had been discolored from the bonding, leaving behind a black imprint of her body.

There was so much to do, she couldn’t bring herself to care about the infirmary now. She needed to wash and dress… then to draft up a new wanted poster.

The ink purred and swished inside of her chest as she set off, leaving a trail of damp black footprints in her wake.

#fiction #tidesage #sister pyre #inky #warcraft #THE NEXT PART of our inky adventures

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standtitta · 2 years

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The medium ps4

#The medium ps4 Pc#

One occurs roughly two-thirds of the way through the 8-hour campaign of The Medium, and it involves a locked door in need of a four-digit passcode in the basement of the building known as the Red House. While the game leans heavily on its creepy atmosphere and emotional storytelling, there are a handful of tricky puzzles throughout the game that may impede your progress.

#The medium ps4 Pc#

If you'd like to learn more about the Medium, check out our guides on the game's length, the conference room puzzle, finding the tie clip, the secret door code, The Medium's achievements and The Medium's story and mission flow.The Medium is a new psychological horror game from Bloober Team out on PC and Xbox Series X | S and available on Xbox Game Pass. Next, while you're looking at a close up view of the cabinet, use Marianne's insight power to uncover the location of the button for the hidden door.Īfter pressing this button, you can enter the hidden room and discover what secrets lurk within! This will restart the electrics for the secret door in reality, so cut short your out-of-body experience and return to reality.īack in the real world, you'll want to interact with the cabinet behind the desk. Inside the hidden room, you'll find a power box, which you can charge by performing a spirit blast upon it. Just remember to keep an eye on Marianne's spirit body and return to the real world before her spirit one vanishes or else risk death. You'll now want to perform an out-of-body experience, so that you can explore the spirit world version of the hidden room. Now, you'll want to spin the clock hands forward, until the doorway for the hidden room opens in the spirit world. Hopefully though, the spirit well should appear straight away. If this is the case, then use the grandfather clock to make the other Thomas imprints appear and interact with them, while also having a quick wander out the secret room. There's a chance that the spirit well might not appear for you when you do this. Stop playing with time and collect the spirit energy, before returning to the clock face. Next, you'll want to spin the clock hands back as far as they can go, so that a spirit well appears on the desk. Return to the clock face, rotate the hands backwards again until you see the next imprint of Thomas, which you must, again, stop to interact with. You'll now want to step away from the clock face and interact with the imprint to gather the knowledge it holds. This will open the clock case, giving you control of the clock hands, which, in turn, allows you to turn back time in the spirit world, repairing that version of the office.įirst, rotate the clock hands backwards, until you see an imprint of Thomas. After doing so, you'll see a small lock next to the clock face into which you can insert the Small Key. To do this you must first collect the Small Key and then interact with the grandfather clock. If you want to access Thomas's hidden room in The Medium, then you need to solve the grandfather clock puzzle. How to access Thomas's hidden room and the grandfather clock puzzle in the The Medium explained Though, you may want to stay and collect the memos first if you want to experience every part of The Medium's storyline, as you won't be able to return for them. These items in hand, we can move forward to solving the grandfather clock puzzle and accessing Thomas's hidden room. Picking up the Flashlight will reveal the Small Key. Thankfully, there are some useful items hidden away in the mess, which by found by investigating the broken desk.įrom the drawer on the floor you can pick up the Flashlight and the Small Key, which lies beneath it. When you finally reach Thomas's office in The Medium, you'll discover that it's already been ransacked. Watch on YouTube The Medium - The DF Report Investigate Thomas's office in The Medium explained

#The medium ps4

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notcatherinemorland · 4 years

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ok i Had a bit of Fancy UpMyArse Analysis about ‘emotional horor’ as a (sub)genre but i then saw a fire emblem post so naturally ive forgotten every other thought in my head.

i absolutely sound like an asshole, and i know nothing about any of this. but i have a lot of emotions and i like gothic novels so therefore im absolutely 110% qualified to wax lyrical on the failings of modern horror as a genre.

the book i read that had ‘emotional horror’ as a tag-along line was devil rock by paul tremblay (which, wonderful book but i preferred his other two) where the pivot of the fear element, if u like, was the fear of a mother who’s child had gone missing.

every time i talk about horror genre i Have to do the thing where i define things for the imaginary reader bc when i talk about horror and terror, i fully subscribe to ann radcliffe’s definition. i’m sure ive mentioned it time and time again here BUT because i enjoy talking about it. Terror is ~ the feelings of fear and dread, the suspense of the horror, capitalising on the anxiety, .. the gothic liminal space effect, if ur me, where you Know you’re not safe, but you’re not face to face with the danger. the space in between. Horror is ~ confrontation with the monster itself, fits alongside sublime and grotesque, its shock and repulsion and the immediate threat, the adrenaline rush that comes with experiencing the horror element.

i don’t say that to be condescending or to mansplain.. i say that so a) any poor soul who reads things i say (future me) knows what the fuck im on about when i talk about it & b) . i just really enjoy chatting about that. i just. like talking about the difference between horror and terror . idk why. i just dig it. also here down ‘horror’ equals radcliffe horror, ‘horror genre’ = .. the genre of horror. horror as the noun.

anyway. ‘emotional horror.’ i remember it struck me at first because i thought huh isn’t horror as a genre based in emotion? - but with pure regard to modern horror, emotional horror seems to mean the provocation of empathy for the characters, or that the ‘horrific element’ stems from an emotional source - grief, mental health, a missing child from a mother’s perspective.

i fully admit i haven’t watched/read enough what i could annoyingly call ‘horror-horror’ content, ie films that rely a lot of physical action and reaction to be horror - the shining with physical safety, that one film about the deaf woman being hunted in her cabin in the woods (great film, i hated the experience of watching it.) uhh. i’m a philistine so i’d shove literally any standard horror film under this banner. friday 13th, chucky, that kinda thing. i’m sure there’s really nuanced analysis of them about the themes they explore like omnipresence of religion and how god doesn’t matter in a world with free will and that kind of thing . but the annoying bottom line for me is that if it’s got jumpscares and gore, it gets shoved into ‘this is a film with emphasis on radcliffe horror and i will Suffer.’ so. i don’t watch them. i fucking HATE jumpscares. I am abolutely passing judgement on a genre i have no taste for or care to experience, and tho i therefore should not talk about it . this will not stop me .

sorry, it’s 1am. where was i. emotional horror.

modern horror is a very foreign ground to me, because i just. entrenched myself in a little pit of gothic lit for 3 years, discovered that ‘woah! this is a contemporary genre too!’ and then read 5 chapters of stephen king and lost my faith in humanity hjgfhhhj. but emotional horror? that’s a fucking fascinating catagory. but i really bloody wonder why it’s been segregated from pure horror genre. because imo. they Should be one in the same. whats the point in horror genre content if it’s not digging claws into proper emotional fears and making a story out of that. OH one book i loved reading was ‘the wrong train’ by . someone. where the fear is typical and very abstract until the very last lines (spoilers.. where the protagonist is set up to die offscreen) and it’s a Beautiful twist. it’s very strange because the kicker of the book was the very last part and left largely unexplored. but at the same time if a story was to start there and follow onwards.. i’d be likely to shove it in my ‘horror-horror’ catagory. depending on if it explored the emotional effects on the characters in a way that was more than physical.

films - especially films, because unless the writer is doing a dickhead move and eliminating the character’s emotional depth from the narrative, tend to have superficial displays of terror, horror and overwhelming emotion. by limitation of the medium alone . it’s the show not tell thing all over again. film a woman screaming and crying in fear of the ghost hunting her.. or have the camera circle her, blur all the shot but her, make the shot of her as intense as the emotion the actress portrays. i absolutely sound like an asshole, and i know nothing about this. but i have a lot of emotions and i like gothic novels so therefore im absolutely 110% qualified to wax lyrical on the failings of modern horror FHIGBKEFH.

it’s one thirty am and i need to STOP oh my god how did i write this much about fucking horror genre but i can’t write 4000 characters of a ucas statement. many reasons, mostly that a ucas statement is zero wasted space and this ramble is 90% dead air.

anyway. emotional horror. im fucking fascinated . im appreciative of the segregation so i can find things i’ll enjoy. but. why push it into a niche when it’s fucking integral to what makes horror .. good/worthwhile (to be an asshole)/what i personally enjoy lmao

edit: i didn;t actually,, fuckign say this,, when i say ‘exploring horror thru physical means’ like the asshat i am, i mean hack and slash film, gore, onscreen bodily trauma. that kinda content. the things out find in season 4 of supernatural. where the film is very concerned with exploring the boundaries of the physical body ie . get grusomely dismembered. as opposed to ‘emotional horror’ .. like the babadook honestly. where the boundaries crossed are very mental and emotional.

that.. that’s a whole different post and the one i was actually trying to make. fuck.

also. i’m just a picky bitch. one kind of horror is not necessarily better or worse than the other, and we choose where we place our value in media. personal taste is paramount and im not here to shit on what other people enjoy. i just happen to be annoying about what i do.

#long post #how in the everloving FUCK do i tag this #if u read this .. let me know.. i'll send you flowers of condolence for ur loss of braincells and flowers of gratitude for listening to me #may goes ham #marianne on emotional horror #i'm only tagging it so I can find it later ghjfgb #in the course of writing this i listened to bleachers album twice and a half. OOF.

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bereft-of-frogs · 4 years

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cool.

so I’m pretty close to never watching another Netflix produced series that isn’t for sure a limited series or self-contained season.

#i guess at least marianne was at least somewhat less of a cliffhanger than chambers #i'm not sure what netflix actually wants anymore?#because that was honestly one of the best shows i've ever seen from them #like chambers i could see because it was a little rocky at times #but this was phenomenal and i don't know what more they're looking for #someone please rec me something that is a limited series for sure has no setup for a second season that will get yanked out from under me #because i really can't do this a third time in a row #marianne spoilers #i mean the main story is wrapped up but then they tease more and i got excited for a second only for netflix to confirm it's over #fuck netflix tbh #also good reminder never to go on r/horror i forgot how obnoxious they all are there #too bad all you all want is straight tropes and don't want to actually connect with your emotions fuck off #it's the same people who bitch about haunting of hill house #fuck i'm real annoyed rn

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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

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ML Ficlet: Nothing changed

It was unnaturally cold for this time of year. That is what the crimson heroine thought to herself as she dashed across the rooftops in the city of love.

She landed on the roof that was their usual meet up point.

"Just in time My Lady." Chat noir purred. "Looks like you are keeping your promise about not missing our patrols."

Ladybug wished she could be in a happier mood. She was questioning whether she should even tell him about what she did.

"Ladybug? You in there?" Chat noir inquired. "I called you my Lady again and you didn't correct me?"

His question snapped Ladybug back to the present.

"Huh? Oh, right sorry." She apologized.

"A lot on your mind?"

"You could say that."

"Do you want to talk about it? Or is it guardian stuff?"

Ladybug decided she would tell him after patrol tonight, she didn't want the mood to be soured over this.

She takes his hand.

"We can talk later. But first, Paris needs protecting." She smiled sweetly. The cat felt a faint blush on his cheeks. But the feeling faded when he realized she had taken off.

"Oh! So thats how you want to play." Chat noir smiled.

The two teens patrolled the city from above. They made sure to protect several food stands... in case an akuma was Hangry. Making time to take photos. They even comforted a girl after a bad date, preventing an akuma in the making.

It had been awhile since Chat noir was able to enjoy a patrol with Ladybug like this. She wasn't so high strung trying to force herself to have fun or so quick to get out. It was like nothing had changed. Perhaps Ladybug had finally found a good balance, he hoped that was the case.

Though as soon as it started, the patrol was at an end. Chat noir wishing it could have went on forever.

"Well sadly while the night is young, we must part." Chat noir acted out like a thespian. Using over dramatic hand gestures to exemplify his 'Heartbreak.'

"Silly kitty." Ladybug let out a sigh and light giggle. Oh how it was music to his ears.

"Well good night bugaboo. I will dream of you." He teased.

Ladybug's expression went grim.

"Wait a second."

Chat noir stopped himself from leaping.

"Yes My... yes Ladybug?"

Chat noir could tell that the mood had shifted. He had gotten better at reading her emotions and it was clear she was going to say something serious. He put away the mental clown nose.

"I... I need to tell you something important." Ladybug spoke. Her words holding much more weight with each passing second.

"Look Ladybug... if this is too much you don't have to tell me. I know that..."

"No, I need to tell you this. Even if it hurts." Ladybug interrupted. Her voice shook in that moment.

The air blew much colder to the cat.

"Okay, what is it?"

Chat noir prepared for some sort of verbal punch. Whatever it was, he was sure he could take it.

"I told someone my identity."

He was wrong. It was like he had the air knocked out of him. That couldn't be right. There was no way she would.... right?

"I'm sorry Ladybug. I think I must of misheard what you said. Cause it sounded like you said you told someone your secret identity." He tried to make light of it. His body shaking as he forced a Cheshire grin.

"You didn't. I told someone who I am under the mask."

His heart felt like it was dropped off the roof of the building they were standing on.

"You mean someone forced you to tell them? Cause we can track them down and fix it."

"I told someone, of my own free will, who I am. I know that comes as a shock. You are right to feel mad."

The cat hero looked at her, his expression became unreadable.

"Mad? You think I would be mad about this?" His voice trying to so hard to maintain calm when every part of his heart feels like he is being stabbed. "I am hurt, that you would think that."

"It wasn't something I did to hurt you. I just felt the pressure of everything... and I couldn't.... I couldn't bear it alone." Ladybug answered. She was not happy with this. She knew chat noir would feel hurt, but she never expected this.

Chat noir took a deep breath. He would ease himself. He needed to be rational. Ladybug was being honest with him. She could have just kept it from him. He needed to understand how hurt she must feel about all of this. Even if this felt like his heart was being dissected, he would not make Ladybug feel worse about this. He would try to be understanding.

"Okay... I understand. Fu had Marianne. Its okay that you would tell someone."

Ladybug eased a bit, the cat seemed to be coming around.

"It wasn't something I wanted to do. I know how much this must sting hearing this."

This felt so condescending to the black cat. And that was the last straw.

"No. Not at all. I mean sure I want nothing more in life then to know who my closest friend and crime fighting partner is. And sure, I completely hated the rule with a passion that could rival the desire shadow moth has for our miraculous. But I stuck to it because, hey, it was for the sake of Paris and it made sure we could stay safe from the crazy super villain. It made sense, and even though I wanted to tell one person who I love who I am, I couldn't risk it. Even though it ruined the relationships I had, I endured. I did it because, Ladybug was counting on me. I did it because even though it was killing me internally, Ladybug was bearing the same burden! It was us against the world! I could endure it with her! I guess that was a lie too!"

Chat noir took a breath.

"Chatton..."

"Im not done." He snapped. His smile had vanished, showing a nasty snarl.

Ladybug felt herself step back. The ferocity of that statement triggered a long suppressed fear. Something she wished she would never see again. The reason why she didn't want him to find out her identity. She saw the anger of Chat Blanc.

Chat noir noticed the fear on ladybug's face, and the tears forming in her eyes. He had gone too far. His anger replaced with horror at what he had done.

"Wait... Ladybug... That was too far."

"No... you're right to be mad. I broke your trust. I forced you to agree to things you hated and then I broke the rule I set. I just... I couldn't take it. So I know I am being selfish to expect you to take it in stride. You don't deserve this. I would understand if you hate me and want to quit..."

Chat noir hugged her. Catching the red heroine off guard.

"This isn't your fault. Yes I'm mad. I am also hurt and feel betrayed... but I don't hate you."

"You don't?"

"I couldn't hate you Ladybug. Its not like I've been the perfect partner. I've screwed up too. But you still want me around right?" Chat noir answered.

"I don't think I could be ladybug without you."

Chat noir felt his emotions ease.

"And I couldn't be Chat noir without you."

He releases the hug.

They stood in silence for a few minutes. Both taking calming breaths. They wanted to ensure they were both able to continue talking without a potential akuma risk.

"So, you told someone because you needed someone to talk to because being the guardian along with other stuff was too much for you to handle quietly. " Chat noir asked calmly.

"Yes, that is what happened."

"It was better you told someone then just suffered alone. I wanted to be your support... but I understand that its dangerous right now if I know who you are and vice versa." Chat noir continued.

"I know its hard to accept..."

"No no, lets not try and ease it. I will accept it over time. I just want you to know that its okay that you did that. I want you to know that despite how much it hurt, I am glad you told me now. Finding this out... that might have hurt so much worse. It would have felt like nothing changed from back then."

Ladybug knew he was referring to how master fu had kept her from tell him about things. How he was left in the dark? She hated that period of her life.

"When this is over, when Hawkmoth is done. I swear we can reveal our identities to each other. We can even go catch a movie."

Chat noir smiled a bit.

"I would like that."

In the end, Chat noir was still hurt by this, but he knew how to take a bit of pain. He would move past it, he and Ladybug would still be partners. He still love her dearly. Nothing changed.

#ml #gang of secrets #ml spoilers #ml ficlet #hurt and comfort #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #chat blanc mention #ml angst #ml season 4

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levisqueaks · 2 years

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There is nothing quite like a good book...

I meant to update Saturday but it’s the 17th and I have officially finished 10 books and have three others in a partially completed status.

Books I’ve read so far in 2022 and what I rate them:

The Guest List

by Lucy Foley

4 stars. It had a good plot and a lot of great twists. As murder mysteries go, I really enjoyed it. However, it loses a star because of the constant POV shifts which made it really hard to keep track of all of the twists and turns.

The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy

by Mackenzi Lee

4 stars. I listened to this one on audio, so I do think I may have lost some of the nuance that listening causes (for me). I thoroughly enjoyed the sequel to Gentleman’s Guide of Vice and Virtue. It was fast-paced and energetic.

The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot

By Marianne Cronin 5 stars. A beautiful and emotional look at life, love, death, and the journeys we travel. I definitely recommend this one if you want an emotional read!

Kept

By Maya Banks 2.5 stars. And that’s generous. As far as mindless smut goes, this one actually had some semblence of a plot... it just wasn’t a great one. It gets this many stars because of how hilariously terrible the whole thing was. I actually enjoyed reading it, but it wasn’t good.

The Scottish Prisoner

By Diana Gabaldon 3 Stars - 4.5 stars with the alternate ending written by @iihappydaysiiand @mistresspandorawritesthings. I struggled to get into this one, even though I was really excited to read it. I loved getting a whole book of Jamie and John being a grumpy old married couple and Tom Byrd was the best part of the book. We stan the poor Wee Byrd. Finishing the book with Whatever It Costs (starting after Chapter 32 of TSP) was honestly utterly fantastic and I highly recommend you do the same!

If God Is Love, Don’t Be A Jerk

By John Pavlovitz 4.5 stars. It’s a niche read but it was a great philosophical look into the state of America and Christianity. A little too bible-y for me, but I do enjoy his blog posts so this was a great palette cleanser to transition into a new series.

The Day the World Came to Town

By Jim Defede 4 stars. This book is about Gander, Newfoundland and the events of welcoming in over 6,000 people who had their flights grounded on 9/11. For the source and story, I felt like it was a really great read and gave a lot of insight into the events and the way people came together. However, it was very matter-of-fact storytelling and it had the potential to be extremely emotional. Still a recommended read!

Bartholomew Nelson and the World of Zathya

By Antonio Gilyard 5 stars. I really enjoyed this book! It’s a YA Fantasy novel that has really awesome character development, magic, intrigue and lots of plot turns! A hidden gem I definitely recommend to anyone who enjoys fantasy worlds!

Locked in Time

By Lois Duncan 3 Stars. I used to love this novel as a young teen and so I picked it up again because I didn’t really remember the plot. As an adult it was easy to see the plot pockets and bad dialogue but the premise was still kind of neat. Gothic horror meets YA Fiction. Definitely a dated book.

The Selection

By Kiera Cass 3.5 stars. Lord this book. It was absolute trash with a problematic plot device but it was still a fun few-hour read. YA Romance? It has a caste system that feels a bit like the hunger games, meets the bachelor. If you want a guilty pleasure read with little substance, this is definitely the book for you. The white ass names in this book sent me into hysterics. In Progress Reads:

Boyfriend Material

By Alexis Hall First Impressions: This book is hysterical and campy. Very excited to see how it plays out. But so far, I think I’m going to really enjoy it!

The Weight of Ink

By Rachel Kadish First Impressions: This is a dense book full of amazing history, mystery, and intrigue. I’m about 10% into it, and I’m very excited to see what happens next!

The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek

By Kim Richardson First Impressions: I am really enjoying the story so far. It’s a little hard to get into for audio, so I’m working to borrow an e-book or print version to finish it. But the story is super captivating so far! Any recommendations that you would pass on? Please share them! I’m hoping to cross 100 books this year.

#book review #2022 reading #book recommendations

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the-anxiety-ridden-writer · 3 years

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Knives On My Body, Blood On My Hands

Chapter Two

Agony is a Room

(i’ve bled in there)

IVAN VANKO strikes a deal with The Assets mother — Aida Liu, one of Hydra’s deadliest assassins, said to have gone toe to toe with Lady Shiva — three months before she gets pregnant with her. Though, at the time she hadn’t gone by The Asset, only by the name her mother had picked for her.

Honora Liu is not made for love, nor is she made for kindness. From the moment Honora Liu is ripped into being alive she has known life is pain, and life is horror and she has known that she has been made to make it that way from the bottom of her tar-black heart.

Three months before Honora Liu is born, Ivan Vanko and Aida Liu make a deal to create the perfect weapon. To unite Hydra and the Red Room and lead them against whoever stood against them.

It was, as you imagine, quite the responsibility.

•☽○☾•

THE RED ROOM is a cluster of buildings in the woods, isolated from the greater populace. The KGB leaders that come to survey the objects they pour their money into don’t blink at the girls' bruise-kissed knuckles or how some of their shirts are drenched in blood after they get out of training.

Their eyes roam the room, taking in a distinguished training room that girls like Honora — girls destined to be the incendiary soldiers, burning and searing into those in their way — spend every minute of their day in. Honora is the youngest there at the ripe age of four. She’s there because she’s Honora Liu and two months ago she clutched an army knife in chubby hands and kills her roommate because when she tries to spare her roommate, her roommate tries to slice her throat open.

•☽○☾•

Honora is five when she kills again. It’s the first time she kills a person, except that it isn’t. It’s maybe the tenth, twentieth, hundredth time she kills someone. Everyday when she walks into the too cold training room, she leaves with the blood of her sestras on her hands. She kicks their teeth in, breaks their legs, breaks their arms, breaks their face. She kills her sestras, the same girls that teach her how to braid her hair and pull on her pointe shoes, but it's not the same as killing a person. Because her sestras are not really her sestras, they are each only weapons in the Red Room’s arsenal and disposing of a weapon is so much easier than disposing of an innocent.

The man tied to chair in front of five year old Honora Liu has been trembling in his seat since she walked in, shaking and Honora can barely hear the muffled words coming from behind the thick straw bag otop his head, but Honora has disposed of enough weapons to recognize what asking for mercy sounds like.

“He betrayed the Motherland, Honora” and that's her fathers, Ivans voice, whispering sweetly into her ear. She closes her eyes - only for a second and never longer, because it’s rare for her father to be soft with her. From the moment she is brought into this world, kicking and screaming, she has only ever known the anger only a father possesses. Sharp and bruising, her fathers anger follows Honora like a tattoo seared into an already broken mentality.

When she opens them, the trigger is pulled and she thinks that time has slowed only so she can see the result and then she’s placing a thinly made porcelain mask, keeping everything hidden, but breakable if you apply too much pressure.

•☽○☾•

IN THE RED ROOM, there was never any time to actually feel things. It was a statement that Honora knew, breathed and lived by. It’s the cold harsh truth and while Honora is a spy, she's never been a liar.

But the truth can’t explain to her why Honora can’t breathe. Or why she has to curl her hands into fists to stop them from shaking, dig her nails into her palm so hard they leave blood pouring from the cuts. Or why killing someone has this much of an effect on her.

Honora doesn’t know how to push her emotions down, not yet at least. Hasn’t figured out how to separate her morality from her actions. Hasn’t figured out that she was damned from the beginning. But it’s fine because she may not be good at compartmentalization yet, but she is good at acting like she is.

She can’t stop the tears from welling at night or the crescent shaped scars that have formed on her palms but she can keep her eyes blank, face still, and pound into her opponent’s body until her trainers have to physically drag her off of the poor, dead girl.

She learns, eventually. How to push her emotions down. How to disappear within herself when they send her on more missions. (Learns how useful the skill is when they start her seduction training when she’s eight). And by the time she’s nine, she’s lying on that metal table, getting her choice removed from her body, getting it chopped, chopped away until her lip is bleeding from how hard she bites it and everything is numb, not because of anesthetic (no anesthetic for weapons) because Honora can’t feel anything because she won’t let herself feel anything.

TAGLIST:

@jayjayspixiepop , @nightlychaotic

AN: yeah, I know this is really short but i figured it was better to post what I had now rather than let it fester in y’alls mind. also, yes Honora Liu is Marinette. That’s her real name mostly cause I’m sick of seeing Marianne or Marin for her name. The events in these chapters are what happen before she joins Hydra and becomes The Asset. In case that wasn’t clear.

#mlb #mlbfic #mlb fic #mlb x marvel #mlb x dc #later tho #assassin marinette #the Red Room #Marinette is Honora Liu #In case you didn’t read my note #yes her name isn’t Marianne #cause I didn’t want to make it mark Anne #writing #fic #her time in hyrda is next #don’t worry #it gets worse before it gets better

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studiesof-fandom-primaryblog · 3 years

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Library Update

Fan Culture Anastasia Salter; Bridget Blodgett - Toxic Geek Masculinity in Media: Sexism, Trolling, and Identity Policing Katherine Larsen; Lynn S. Zubernis - Fan Culture: Theory/Practice Linda Duits; Koos Zwann; Stijn Reijnders - The Ashgate Research Companion to Fan Cultures

Fandom & Fan Practices Bob Rehak - Materializing Monsters: Aurora Models, Garage Kits and the Object Practices of Horror Fandom Francesca Davis DiPiazza - Fandom: Fic Writers, Vidders, Gamers, Artists, and Cosplayers Joseph Brennan - Queerbaiting and Fandom_ Teasing Fans Through Homoerotic Possibilities Lucy Neville - Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys_ Women and Gay Male Pornography Matt Yockey - Monster Mashups: At Home with Famous Monsters of Filmland Melissa A. Click - Anti-Fandom: Dislike and Hate in the Digital Age Nancy K. Baym - Tune In, Log On: Soaps, Fandom, and Online Community Roos Gerritsen - Intimate Visualities and the Politics of Fandom in India Suzanne Scott - Fake Geek Girls: Fandom, Gender, and the Convergence Culture Industry

Fanfiction Ashton Spacey - The Darker Side of Slash Fan Fiction: Essays on Power, Consent and the Body Heather Urbanski - Writing and the Digital Generation: Essays on New Media Rhetoric

Boys Love & Yaoi Sandra Youssef - Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys: Ethnography of Online Slash/Yaoi Fans

Games Melanie Swalwell; Helen Stuckey; Angela Ndelianis - Fans and Videogames: Histories, Fandom, Archives

K-Pop Crystal S. Anderson - Soul in Seoul: African American Popular Music and K-Pop

Specific Fandoms [Buffy] Allyson Beatrice - Will the Vampire People Please Leave the Lobby? True Adventures in Cult Fandom [Comic Books] Bill Schelly - Founders of Comic Fandom: Profiles of 90 Publishers, Dealers,Collectors, Writers, Artists and Other Luminaries of the 1950s and 1960s [Doctor Who] Matt Hills - Triumph of a Time Lord: Regenerating Doctor Who in the Twenty-First Century [Doctor Who] Paul Booth; Richard Wallace - Fan Phenomena: Doctor Who [Harry Potter] Christopher Bell - From Here to Hogwarts: Essays on Harry Potter Fandom and Fiction [Harry Potter] Travis Prinzi - Harry Potter for Nerds: Essays for Fans, Academics, and Lit Geeks [Jane Austen] Deborah Yaffe - Among the Janeites: A Journey Through the World of Jane Austen Fandom [Jane Austen] Sarah Glosson - Performing Jane: A Cultural History of Jane Austen Fandom [Music] Daniel Cavicchi - Tramps Like Us: Music and Meaning among Springsteen Fans [Music] Eoin Devereux; Aileen Dillane; Martin J. Power - Morrissey: Fandom, Representations and Identities [Music] Mark Duffett - Popular Music Fandom: Identities, Roles and Practices [Music] Toija Cinque; Sean Redmond - The Fandom of David Bowie: Everyone Says Hi [Supernatural] Katherine Larsen; Lynn Zubernis - Representations of Fans on Supernatural [Supernatural] Travis Langley; Lynn S. Zubernis; Jonathan Maberry; Mark R. Pellegrino - Supernatural Psychology: Roads Less Traveled [Westworld] James B. South; Kimberly S. Engels; William Irwin - Westworld and Philosophy [Twin Peaks] Marisa C. Hayes; Franck Boulègue - Fan Phenomena: Twin Peaks [Hunger Games]Nicola Balkind; Emma Rhys - Fan Phenomena: The Hunger Games [Mystery] Marvin Lachman - The Heirs of Anthony Boucher: A History of Mystery Fandom [Lost] Jon Lachonis, Amy Johnston - Lost Ate My Life: The Inside Story of a Fandom Like No Other [My Little Pony] Edwards; Chadborn; Plante; Reysen; Redden - Meet the Bronies: The Psychology of Adult My Little Pony Fandom [Shakespeare] Johnathan H. Pope - Shakespeare’s Fans: Adapting the Bard in the Age of Media Fandom [Sports] Adam Brown - Fanatics: Power, Identity and Fandom in Football [Sports] Carrie Dunn - Football and the Women’s World Cup: Organisation, Media and Fandom [Sports] Dağhan Irak - Football Fandom, Protest and Democracy: Supporter Activism in Turkey [Sports] Erin C. Tarver - The I in Team: Sports Fandom and the Reproduction of Identity [Sports] Gary Armstrong; Alberto Testa - Football, Fascism and Fandom: The UltraS of Italian Football [Sports] George Dohrmann - Superfans: Into the Heart of Obsessive Sports Fandom [Sports] Jamie Cleland; Mark Doidge; Peter Millward; Paul Widdop - Collective Action and Football Fandom: A Relational Sociological Approach [Sports] Mariann Vaczi - Soccer, Culture and Society in Spain: An Ethnography of Basque Fandom [Sports] Nina Szogs - Football Fandom and Migration: An Ethnography of Transnational Practices and Narratives in Vienna and Istanbul [Sports] Phil West - The United States of Soccer: MLS and the Rise of American Soccer Fandom [Sports] Radosław Kossakowski - Hooligans, Ultras, Activists: Polish Football Fandom in Sociological Perspective [Sports] Stacey Pope - The Feminization of Sports Fandom: A Sociological Study [Sports] Steve Redhead - Post-Fandom and the Millennial Blues: The Transformation of Soccer Culture [Sports] Tamar Rapoport - Doing Fandom: Lessons from Football in Gender, Emotions, Space [Sports] Younghan Cho - Global Sports Fandom in South Korea: American Major League Baseball and Its Fans in the Online Community

#library update

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homestuckexamination · 3 years

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2 Games with Heart Themes

Aaand here comes the Readmore again. X3 LOVE the second one you mentioned though.

The Medium

-You play as Marianne, a woman with psychic abilities. Her being is partly spiritual and the other half being physical. She traverses through two realities; the screen is sometimes split into those two when you need to simultaneously interact with both worlds.

As a Medium, she can work with key objects to feel the emotions stuck with them and see the memories the dead left behind. Marianne can get more powers from positive emotions to piece things together, helping lost souls pass on. She has been, ever since she was a kid. She is not a judge, but a ferryman. Be cautious, you’ll encounter monsters that you’ll need to fight & evade. The game has a bit of early Silent Hill series vibes, with fog covering the setting and the characters having their own reality the player can travel through.

Soma

-What does it mean to be human? What does it mean to be you? If you make digital copies of your conscience and upload them unto computers, would those entities hold the same intrinsic value as you? Would you be able to fathom that you can make tens or thousands of you- all with the same memories and emotions as you? If this were to happen to you, and you realize that you were not who you thought you were, would you consider yourself the same?

What makes us… us? Is it the flesh & bone? Is it the capability of emotion? With the rise of artificial intelligence in real life, we get to ponder more and more on these questions.

It’s Dirk:The Game, complete with themes of facing your self, robots, existential horror, body horror, and isolation in a post-apocalyptic setting.

#submission #heart #aspect #fanon #hse

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carelessgraces · 3 years

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——— BASICS! ♡

NAME! ♡ marianne ( please also feel free to call me ani / mari !! )

PRONOUNS! ♡ she/her

ZODIAC SIGN! ♡ taurus sun & moon, leo rising

TAKEN OR SINGLE! ♡ single !!

——— THREE FACTS! ♡

1! ♡ the theme i’m most interested in exploring here is monstrosity — particularly the idea of monstrosity inflicted upon women / women choosing monstrosity. at her earliest stages astoria was designed to be a sort of sarcastic look at “weaponized femininity” as a concept of monstrosity more than as a feminist push, and that’s kind of stayed the emphasis here.

2! ♡ my type in characters to write is “morally questionable redheaded woman,” followed very closely by every other morally questionable woman. my type in characters to write with is “how could this person make things difficult for my morally questionable redheaded woman?” and i love it in all directions — make her better !! make her worse !! so long as she’s an active participant in a thread or a plot, i’m game.

3! ♡ i love horror !! as a genre, i think it’s among the most versatile and fascinating. horror as a love story, horror as an exploration of grief, horror as optimism for the future. my favorite horror is based on the premise that all people are inherently good and that evil is a choice, which i find very comforting overall. because at its core most horror IS a love story !!

——— EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED! ♡ forums and email, but tumblr is definitely my preference. i try discord, but i do struggle with discord as a platform.

——— MUSE PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER! ♡ i very much prefer writing women. i spent a lot of time, growing up, looking for women in fiction doing the things that i found most interesting and now i have the chance to create them myself !!

LEAST FAVOURITE FACE(S)! ♡ j.ohnny d.epp, m.ichael f.assbender, e.mma r.oberts, e.van p.eters, h.olland r.oden, c.olton h.aynes.

MULTI OR SINGLE! ♡ i love both, but astoria is always my most active, and the easiest for me to manage. with that said, i have a hard time maintaining single blogs for other characters, and a multi is easiest for me beyond astoria.

——— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡

FLUFF ♡ i really enjoy writing fluff but so long as it’s balanced out. excessive fluff, especially slice-of-life, is honestly a little stressful for me? i like writing as escapism and i think i develop my characters better when the fluff is a little more limited.

ANGST ♡ i love angst, so long as it’s not excessive; there’s got to be a payoff at the end, and it’s got to make sense, and not just feel like emotional torture-porn. for me, angst is the most interesting when it leads to character development and growth, and when it pushes me as a writer, as well as my character, in new directions; with that said, my life is very exhausting and stressful atm, so my angst tolerance might be a little lower than usual while things settle.

SMUT ♡ i want to start by saying that romance / erotica is a perfectly good and legitimate genre. i love shipping, but writing smut on here with another person is very hit-or-miss. there are maybe three to five people on here i’m comfortable writing explicit smut with; otherwise i’m all for poetic insinuations and mentions. all depends on the mood.

PLOT / MEMES! ♡ i fucking love plotting !! it’s one of my favorite things. plotting is a blast, and is one of my favorite parts of writing. as for memes: i’m typically always accepting memes from my meme tag, and since i don’t do starter calls, that’s the best way to communicate with me.

#iv. tilting pretty sharply bitchward. ( marianning )#(there we gooooo)

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