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stargirl-writes · 6 months

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[chapter one] the secret history of anakin skywalker

captured

pairing : assassin! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 1.8k

series navigation | masterlist

sypnosis

you have only known one truth about this war, the republic and the seperatists are two sides of the same coin. but now, your master count dooku has disposed of you after your consequent failures. his betrayal fueled your thirst for revenge. and in the cruel twist of fate, you have found yourself with an arrangement with the enemy. general anakin skywalker is willing to do what it takes for the republic to win, even if it meant dealing with you, his nemesis.

chapter summary

your mission to secure umbara has failed. your master, count dooku would not have asked of anyone but you to deliver success. but as you stand amongst the pile of bodies of umbaran soldiers, the horror of your failure washes over you. and in the hopelessness of events, a jedi appears amidst the ashes of your city. one that did not hesitate to kill the jedi general krell despite his jedi order's honor.

tags : enemies-to-lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, mystery, espionage.

warnings : mentions of ptsd, mentions of abuse, war, mentions of a panic attack.

notes: centers around the same time of the clone wars season 4 episode 15

also, thank you all lovely people who have supported my first anakin fic here 😭, i'm very grateful for every interaction! so thank you for taking interest in this other thingy i have in the works. so without further ado, i hope you like it ! 🪽

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated !

Your plan has failed.

You stood over the tower overlooking ashes left in the Umbaran capital city. The republic has won. Your plan failed.

Your breath becomes uneven, the terror lodging in your throat as the consequence of this failure starts to dawn.

Your master, Count Dooku, will not take this failure lightly. Because he swore that if you provide anything other than success, then you will be dealt with the price for it.

And now you stand in horror at the sight: the smoke of what was supposed to be your defense taunted you of your imminent future.

Umbara is a crucial route to supply the Confederacy of Independent Systems. A recent attack by the Republic has made Count Dooku send you, his second.

And you have lost it. Many systems have been starving from the tight supply lines that your cause still held and losing Umbara would send millions into more famine.

Your hand twitches. A reaction that fails to conceal your trauma. Your body, already bracing itself for the phantom pain that was yet to be inflicted.

You blinked.

Even from atop this tower, you could make out the scattered Umbaran soldiers that lay lifeless, covered in their own blood.

You try to fight the guilt pushing up your heart, Umbaran people have volunteered to defend their land when you insisted that droids are more expendable than lives.

Your mission was to defend Umbara. Count Dooku wouldn't have asked anyone but you. You were the only one he trusted to deliver success.

You were Dooku's second. His apprentice. He had taken you in when republic forces made the sky fall on your home planet of Hapes.

Your resentment for the Republic began there: from witnessing your home being burned down. Then, Dooku taught you of the Republic's hypocrisy. How they are so deluded by their righteousness and yet leads with violence and bloodshed.

He taught you how to defend yourself. He was the one that made you realize that the Republic is only seeking to reinstate their power over the galaxy, completely disregarding the sole intention that created the Confederacy for Independent Systems.

Dooku took you in. And you feel indebted to his teachings.

Under his care, you became familiar with his ruthless and unrelenting methods. He'd tell you it was because as his apprentice, you couldn't afford the luxury to fail. It made sense, then. If you aren't equipped to be sharp, you'll die from this war. But you'd take notice how sometimes he'd contradict what he preached to you to secure a win. You'd watch him make decisions you wouldn't really find yourself agreeing to.

But, you were convinced he was doing it for the Alliance. You had to adapt. This was a war. Dooku was once a Jedi, so he had to have known something you didn't. Saw something you didn't understand fully.

He told you how the Jedi Council had lost their way when they got involved in politics. Your younger mind was more malleable in believing everything your master said. He told you many things...

He taught you how to wield a lightsaber and directed you at the right targets, making you his most effective weapon.

You allowed it all because it was for the cause...

And Dooku was fierce in teaching you the price of failure. 'Many will suffer for your incompetence' he used to say as he struck you down with his power, making you writhe in pain that felt like being on the brink of death but never having the release.

It was to teach you a lesson, you once believed...

Your faith has crippled since then.

Your heart was telling you it was wrong. A master should never have to go to such extreme methods to teach you a lesson. But then again, how else can your master express the severity of your actions other than how he does? There are so many people that you'd allowed to get hurt. You deserve an equal measure of pain.

You have grown to know so many allied leaders, like Mina Bonteri, who only ever swore allegiance to the cause in hopes of salvation of their people. They weren't evil. They only ever demanded a change in the republic, and now they are branded as Seperatists.

That was what kept you from leaving. Because you have learnt that the Republic and the Alliance were two sides of the same coin; just as corrupt, just as cruel. The war will rage on until one succeeds the other. But either side seems to have been in the war enough to realize the blood being spilled.

Now, you stand over the grave of the people you failed to defend. People, not droids. People that fought to the end, believing in something they were willing to die for.

And you will have to face your Master's disappointment.

You didn't know what felt heavier.

A commando droid appears from behind. "A call from Count Dooku, General" It opens up its hands to reveal the holocommunication device.

Your blood runs cold. You feel your heart thump and thwack so rapidly, you thought it could burst out of your chest.

You swallowed your fear, knowing you can't delay this call. You placed the holocommunicator down and pressed it.

Count Dooku appears in front of you and you straightened your back, masking your expression.

His eyes burn on your skin as he takes a moment to apprehend you. You sensed his frustration despite the distance. Your hand twitches involuntarily.

"Have I fallen short to remind you the consequence if you'd lose Umbara, my student?" His voice remained in that unnerving monotonous tone you despised.

"No, Master" you answered, your nails digging through the skin of your palms.

Dooku doesn't blink; you grow horrified. Be angry, be disappointed, show me something, anything. You hear your thoughts plead. For his composed expression was much more terrifying.

"And you thought it more important to leave the task to the Jedi General Krell?" Dooku says through gritted teeth.

"I had to find a way to reduce our losses" You defend your actions. Conspiring with General Krell had been your idea. You decided it'd be the most efficient way to poison the enemy. Having someone crippling the system from the inside had proved itself effective for you then.

And at the beginning, General Krell had met his end of the deal. You managed to tip the scales of battle, enough to let Umbaran soldiers recuperate before engaging in another battle.

"Krell is dead. Your tactic is comprimised" Dooku announces.

You felt your heart skip a beat.

Somehow, you have always believed the Jedi would never sacrifice their honor in exchange for a win. When Krell went missing, you thought maybe they only had him captured, waiting for a jurisdiction by their holy Republic.

They must really be desperate...

"You have failed me for the last time."

Your eyes widened at the finality of your Master's words. Before you could protest, you felt the force constrict around your throat, lifting you off the ground and cutting the air from your lungs.

"Kill her" Dooku orders the commando droid. And you felt your heart sink. The holocommunication dies. And you slump to the floor.

Adrenaline surges through you, you draw up your lightsaber, distraught, shocked, as the betrayal seeps.

You swing your weapon through the commando droid and it falls down your feet.

You master... ordered for your death. Once you no longer served purpose to him, he abandoned you.

He wouldn't even do it himself.

You started panting, and you held on to the control board to support your weight— tears were flooding your vision, and it felt like everything you believed in, everything you fought for came crumbling down.

Your knees buckled and you stumble backwards. Your body, it betrays— it trembles, it becomes paralyzed by the fear. Your mind is no longer in control, no matter how much you willed for the hyperventilation to stop.

Then you hear the elevator click. You turn to your heel and find the jedi, Anakin Skywalker standing with his lightsaber drawn.

Krell is dead. Anakin Skywalker was here. You put two and two together. It was not the first time you encountered the General, he always led with his men at the frontlines. And he'd always find a way to you.

You'd meet his agile attacks, and stand your ground. You were quite the duelist too. Barely, you'd escape Anakin Skywalker. But you did, every time. You heard the Jedi think it was dishonorable to flee from a fight, but you knew you'd serve your cause better alive than dead. At least something good came from your rigorous training with your master.

He probably ordered Krell's death. Which would be forbidden for his Jedi Code. And before you could wrap around the thought, he was already stepping forward. If he is able to throw away his honor, then he's here to kill you too.

His eyes bore into yours— he looked like he was sizing you up. You felt irked by his arrogance.

"Umbara is under the Republic's protection now, you've no choice but to surrender, Wraith" Anakin calls you by the title conducted to you by your enemies, flicking his chin to move his hair away from his sight.

The Wraith. The shadow. Always lurking, but never significant enough to be acknowledged as the actual threat.

The corner of his lips curled into a cajoling grin "Or run away, I seem to recall you seem to excel in that"

Your breaths leave vapor as your felt your grief transform into something more ravenous. And without hesitating, you charged forward.

Anakin instinctively blocks your offense, his expression of bickering quickly replaced by seriousness. This... this was familiar.

You swung relentlessly, and full of weight. Skywalker receives your attacks and finds his way around it.

The initial adrenaline was depleting, and you felt your muscles atrophy, it was breaking dawn and you haven't had a moment of sleep. Then, in a moment you were recovering from the sloppy emotion-drawn attack, Anakin had deflected, taking offense and you struggle to regain footing.

The fact that he had been so much taller didn't help you. Because you relied on your agility, not endurance.

In a swift movement, Anakin fiends a strike and uses his knuckle to bend your wrist, making you lose your lightsaber to the ground.

You look up to the Jedi in disbelief. You felt his torso pressing on your chest as held up both your wrists over your head with his bionic hand. Fierce and unyielding.

His chest rises and falls, and the ghost of his breath warmed the skin on your forehead.

"It's over." He says, his grip tightening.

You saw the faint glisten of triumph in his eyes before he steps backward and clasps your wrists behind your back and handcuffing them.

You had thought your master's betrayal could be the worst thing you could face. But now, captured by this Jedi, you knew a lifetime rotting in Coruscant is... unimaginable.

Your mind caved in.

Somehow, death seemed like kindness now.

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bracketsoffear · 11 months

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Heathcliff (Wuthering Heights) "Growing up a fosterling near the Earnshaws, Heathcliff becomes an angry man, in love with Catherine. When he realizes that he can never marry Catherine Earnshaw, Heathcliff leaves to make his fortune. He later returns and devotes his life to making their families and heirs miserable, explicitly destroying their lives and happiness for the sake of petty revenge. He is described by other characters as a demon, and after death people see his ghost and his love Catherine’s walking the moors together.

Wikipedia says “Owing to the novel's enduring fame and popularity, he is often regarded as an archetype of the tortured antihero whose all-consuming rage, jealousy and anger destroy both him and those around him; in short, the Byronic hero”."

The Artificer (Rain World) "A fierce combatant, master of pyrotechnics and explosives. Keen to move up in the foodchain, your journey will surely be one lined with constant bloodshed and warfare."

The Artificer is a violent, carnivorous slugcat with the ability to propel themself through the air by creating explosions, along with the power to turn spears and rocks into explosives at the cost of food. They have a bitter grudge against the Scavengers, specifically, for reasons that are at first unclear, and their reputation is locked at the lowest possible value. Throughout their campaign, they sometimes dream before the save screen appears, showing you snapshots of their past. The first two dreams show them caring for a pair of pups. The third dream shows them passing by a Scavenger toll, where one of the pups attempts to steal a pearl. The fourth shows them running for their life and being forced to leave one pup behind, presumably to be killed, before the ground begins to shake as the rain comes. The fifth shows their second pup's death--drowning in a pool of water as they attempt to flee. All dreams after that show them killing Scavengers.

Five Pebbles is unusually kind to them, due to both the Citizen ID Drone they carry and the fact that they share a common enemy. A Scavenger pack has made its home in Pebbles' formerly-abandoned city, and he tasks the Artificer with destroying them, as they have been damaging the top of his can.

In this city (Metropolis), the Artificer can speak to an Echo, Twelve Beads among Burning Skies, who tells them the following:

"You are stuck in a cycle of wrath and destruction, simple being. Gripped by raw emotions whose chains bind you, destined to this land. Shortcomings of the past haunt one and all like whispering phantoms. Listen. Let this be a warning to you… An unrewarding battle awaits, culminating in a path of no return. A perpetuity of struggles begetting more of the same. Find a way out, if you still can."

Eventually, the Artificer (when following the game's usual route) finds their way to the Twelfth Council Pillar; The House of Braids, where they face off against the scavengers' chieftain. Upon defeating them and taking their mask, they are permanently locked at Karma One, which is believed to represent wrath and violence due to clues in-game. If they visit TBaBS after this, they say:

"You, who have encountered a consequence much like my own. Gripped by raw emotions whose chains bind you, destined to this land. Shortcomings of the past haunt one and all like whispering phantoms. An unrewarding battle awaits, culminating in a path of no return. A perpetuity of struggles begetting more of the same. We are a pair who have forfeited everything."

Alternately, the Artificer can seek ascension, however their wrath prevents them from ascending fully, and they are only briefly reunited with their pups before meeting an unknown fate.

tl;dr: local sapient slug's kids die and they commit warcrimes about it

oh yeah also they're the only* slugcat with the ability to maul so that's something

*enot can technically do it also but we don't talk about them in this household"

#desolation poll #the magnus archives #the desolation #wuthering heights #rain world #poll

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wisdomrays · 3 years

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QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: Are Muslims Guilty of Imperialism?

This charge continues to be leveled against the Muslim world. I would like to counter it by asking the following questions:

Given the existing circumstances of 1,400 years ago, how would any one living in Makka or Madina go about exploiting his own clan and tribe? If the supposedly exploited lands and people were those of the Hijaz, which were poor, unfruitful, and barren, who would have wished to invade or exploit them? It is ludicrous to level the charge of imperialist colonialism against the most noble-minded Muslims, who risked their lives to spread the message of Islam; who spent the greater part of their lives far from their children, families, homes, and native lands fighting armies ten or twenty times their size; and who felt deeply grieved when they did not die on the battlefield and join the earlier martyrs for Islam. We ask ourselves what worldly gain they obtained in return for such struggle, deprivation, and sacrifice!

Those who invaded, occupied, and exploited others with the worst intentions (and results) of imperialism are power-hungry individuals or nations. To mention a few: Alexander the "Great" and Napoleon, the Roman empire and Nazi Germany, the Mongol armies unleashed by Genghis Khan and the colonizing armies unleashed by western Europe, Russian dictatorship (whether czarist or communist) and the American empire (whether "manifest destiny" or "making the world safe for democracy"). Wherever such conquests came and went, they corrupted the morality of the conquerors and the conquered, causing chaos, conflict, tears, bloodshed, and devastation. Today their heirs, like bold thieves who bluff property owners to conceal their theft of that very property, turn to besmirching Islam, its Prophet, and his Companions.

True Muslims have never sought to exploit others. Nor have they let others do so where Muslim government had jurisdiction. At a time when Muslim armies were running from triumph to triumph, Caliph 'Umar said: "What befits me is to live at the level of the poorest Muslims," and he really did so. As he took only a few olives a day for his own sustenance, who was he exploiting?

After one battle, when a Muslim was asked to take the belongings of an enemy soldier whom he had fought and killed, he said: "I did not participate in the battle to take spoils." Pointing to his throat, he continued: "What I seek is an arrow here and to fall as a martyr." (His wish was granted.) While burning with the desire for martyrdom, who was he exploiting?

In another battle, a Muslim soldier fought and killed a leading enemy who had killed many Muslims. The Muslim commander saw him pass by his dead enemy. The commander went to the head of the dead soldier and asked who had killed him. The Muslim did not want to reply, but the commander called him back in the name of God. The Muslim felt himself obliged to do so, but concealed his face with a piece of cloth. The following conversation took place:

-Did you kill him for the sake of God?

-Yes.

-All right. But take this 1,000 dinar piece.

-But I did it for the sake of God!

-What is your name?

-What is my name to you? Perhaps you will tell this to everyone and cause me to lose the reward for this in the afterlife.

How could such people exploit others and establish colonies all over the world? To speak frankly, those who hate Islam and Muslims are blind to the historical truth of how Islam spread.

Let's look at what exploitation and imperialism are. Imperialism or colonization is a system of rule by which a rich and a powerful country controls other countries, their trade and policies, to enrich itself and gain more power at the other's expense. There are many kinds of exploitation. In today's world, they may take the following forms:

• Absolute sovereignty by dispossessing indigenous people in order to establish the invader's direct rule and sovereignty. Examples are western Europe's conquest of North and South America, as well as Australia and New Zealand, as well as the Zionists' conquest of Palestine.

• Military occupation so that the invaders can control the conquered nation's land and resources. One example is British colonial rule in India.

• Open or secret interference and intervention in a country's internal and foreign affairs, economy, and defense. Examples are those Third World countries who are manipulated and controlled by various developed countries.

• The transfer of intellectuals, which is currently the most common and dangerous type of imperialism. Young, intelligent, and gifted people of the countries to be exploited are chosen, given stipends, and educated abroad. There they are introduced to and made members of different groups. When they return to their country, they are given influential administrative and other posts so that they can influence their country's destiny. When native or foreign people linked to exploiters abroad are placed in crucial positions in the state mechanism, the country is conquered from inside. This immensely successful technique has enabled Western imperialists to achieve many of their goals smoothly and without overtly rousing the enmity of the people they wish to subjugate. Today, the Muslim world is caught in this trap and thus continues to suffer exploitation and abuse.

Whatever kind of imperialism they are subjected to, countries suffer a number of consequences:

• Various methods of assimilation alienate people from their own values, culture, and history. As a result, they suffer crises of identity and purpose, do not know their own past, and cannot freely imagine their own future.

• Any enthusiasm, effort, and zeal to support and develop their country is quenched. Industry is rendered dependent upon the (former) imperial masters, science and knowledge are not allowed to become productive and primary, and imitation is established firmly so that freedom of study and new research will gain no foothold.

• People remain in limbo, totally dependent upon foreigners. They are silenced and deluded by such empty phrases as progress, Westernization, civilization, and the like.

• All state institutions are penetrated by foreign aid, which is in reality no more than massive financial and cultural debt. Imports, exports, and development are wholly controlled by or conducted according to the exploiter's interests.

• While no effort is spared to keep the masses in poverty, the ruling classes become used to extravagant spending and luxury. The resulting communal dissatisfaction causes people to fight with each other, making them even more vulnerable to outside influence and intervention.

• Mental and spiritual activity is stifled, and so educational institutions tend to imitate foreign ways, ideas, and subjects. Industry is reduced to assembling prefabricated parts. The army tends to become a dumping ground for imperialist countries, for its purchases of expensive hardware ensure the continued well-being of the latter's industries.

We wonder if it is really rational to liken the Islamic conquest to imperialism, which brought disastrous consequences wherever it went.

The victory of Muslim armies never caused a great exodus of people from their homes and countries, nor has it prevented people from working by putting chains on their hands and feet. Muslims left the indigenous people free to follow their own way and beliefs, and protected them in exactly the same way it protected Muslims. Muslim governors and rulers were loved and respected for their justice and integrity. Equality, peace, and security were established between different communities.

If it had been otherwise, would the Christians of Damascus have gathered in their church and prayed for a Muslim victory against Christian Byzantium, which was seeking to regain control of the city? If Muslims had not been so respectful of non-Muslims' rights, could they have maintained security for centuries in a state so vast that it took more than 6 months to travel from one end to another?

One cannot help but admire those Muslim rulers and the dynamic energy that made them so, when we compare them to present-day rulers. Despite every modern means of transportation, telecommunications, and military back-up, they cannot maintain peace and security in even a small area of land.

Today, many scholars and intellectuals who realize the value of Islam's dynamics, which brought about Islam's global sovereignty and which will form the basis of our eternal existence in the Hereafter, expressly tell us that Muslims should reconsider and regain them. While conquering lands, the Muslims also were conquering their inhabitants' hearts. They were received with love, respect, and obedience. No people who accepted Islam ever complained that they were culturally prevented or ruined by the arrival of Muslims. The contrast with the reality of Christian Europe's conquests is stark and obvious.

Early Muslims evaluated the potential of knowledge and art in the conquered lands. They prepared and provided every opportunity for local scholars and scientists to pursue their work. Regardless of their religion, Muslims held the people in high regard and honored them in the community. They never did what the descendants of the British colonialists in America did to the American Indians or in Australia to the Aborigines, the French to the Algerians, or the Dutch to the Indonesians. On the contrary, they treated the conquered people as if they were from their own people and religion, as if they were brothers and sisters.

Caliph 'Umar once told a Coptic Egyptian who had been beaten by a Makkan noble to beat him just as he had been beaten. When 'Umar heard that 'Amr ibn al-'As had hurt the feelings of a native Egyptian, he rebuked him: "Human beings were born free. Why do you enslave them?" As he went to receive the keys to Masjid al-Aqsa, 'Umar visited and talked to priests in different churches in Palestine. Once he was in a church when it was time to pray. The priest repeatedly asked him to pray inside the church, but 'Umar refused, saying: "You may be harassed by other Christians later on because you let me pray in the church." He left the church's premises and prayed outside on the ground.

These are but a few examples to indicate how Muslims were sensitive, tolerant, just, and humane toward other people. Such an attitude of genuine tolerance has not been reached by any other people or society.

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dontbipanicjonsa · 3 years

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Been thinking about Dark!D*ny and

I think for me, it comes down to two things:

The utter hypocrisy re: her supposed abolitionist ways

The escalation of her power and the destruction she wreaks

Because I can't really fault her for smothering Drogo. I can't really fault her for letting Viserys die. I can't really fault her for murdering the shit out of Kraznys. I can't fault her for freeing slaves (as if). I can't even fault her for wanting revenge.

Let me explain-

I think if we compare the capture of the Lhazareen and the capture of Meereen, it paints a very clear picture of where D*ny is headed.

The Lhazareen

Ok. First, the whole 'D*ny has no power' argument has to stop. She's the khaleesi. Her husband is the khal. Of course she has power.

I'm NOT saying Drogo isn't absolutely monstrous to her. I'm not saying she chose to marry him. I'm not commenting on their relationship at all.

In a patriarchy, (upper class) women gain property/power/control over others in exchange for sexual/reproductive service. So D*ny, simply by virtue of being the khal's wife, or simply because she's pregnant with his kid (neither of which were her choice) has power.

For comparison, Cersei, who is abused by her husband, the king, still derives power from her position as Queen and mother of the princes/princess. See what I mean?

?? Drogo decides they're gonna sail to Westeros and gives his rousing speech because D*ny was almost assassinated. The attack on the Lhazareen was done in service of D*ny's conquest of Westeros. Let's repeat.

The Lhazareen were attacked to further D*ny's interests.

No, it wasn't for Rhaego, he's a fucking foetus he doesn't HAVE interests. It's not for Drogo, he doesn't give two shits about Westeros. IT"S FOR D*NY. And that is her 'power' in action. Her power, that she derives through her husband, because PatRiarChy. But power.

And you know what? Sure. It's fine. She didn't know what a bloodbath it was going to be. That's not her fault. And yeah, she IS ready to accept the bloodshed as necessary collateral. That is...a bit more questionable. But she does try to help some women.

Does she only help them because she can see their suffering? Probably. There's plenty of suffering not in her direct line of sight that she allows. But ok. Sure. It's not her job to save everyone (nevermind that they're suffering to further her interests).

The whole 'save them by marrying them to their rapists' thing makes me more sad than enraged. It's tragic. It's D*ny, making women marry their rapists in the same book where she married her rapist...thinking she's ok, thinking they would be ok too. It's the cycle of abuse in motion, right before our eyes.

This is an explanation I accept. All that bullshit about how powerless D*ny is? Pls. Women and children are being enslaved right there on the same page, so D*ny can win the IT, and she's powerless ?? stfu

Ok. I get it. She's not powerless, but how far does her power extend? COULD she have gotten away with getting all the newly enslaved Lhazareen freed? We'll never know. Does that absolve her?

Slaves, Dany thought. Khal Drogo would drive them downriver to one of the towns on Slaver's Bay. She wanted to cry, but she told herself that she must be strong. This is war, this is what it looks like, this is the price of the Iron Throne.

NO.

This- the capture and enslavement of the Lhazareen people- is a direct consequence of Viserys' ambitions, which is a torch that D*ny has now willingly taken up. THAT ^^^ is a price she's willing to pay, or rather- make others pay.

Buuuut it's fine. She's inexperienced, and her power is certainly limited, and hey she tried. Sure. Moving on.

Meereen

(TW: mentions of rape)

Fast forward four books and D*ny is approximately 100x times more powerful than she was in the Lhazareen scene. Let's see how she does now-

A boy came, younger than Dany, slight and scarred, dressed up in a frayed grey tokar trailing silver fringe. His voice broke when he told of how two of his father's household slaves had risen up the night the gate broke. One had slain his father, the other his elder brother. Both had raped his mother before killing her as well. The boy had escaped with no more than the scar upon his face, but one of the murderers was still living in his father's house, and the other had joined the queen's soldiers as one of the Mother's Men. He wanted them both hanged.

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. Dany had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack. Nor would she punish slaves for rising up against their masters.

xxx

A former slave came, to accuse a certain noble of the Zhak. The man had recently taken to wife a freedwoman who had been the noble's bedwarmer before the city fell. The noble had taken her maidenhood, used her for his pleasure, and gotten her with child. Her new husband wanted the noble gelded for the crime of rape, and he wanted a purse of gold as well, to pay him for raising the noble's bastard as his own. Dany granted him the gold, but not the gelding. "When he lay with her, your wife was his property, to do with as he would. By law, there was no rape." Her decision did not please him, she could see, but if she gelded every man who ever forced a bedslave, she would soon rule a city of eunuchs.

SO anyway how is D*ny rating on the 'tried to prevent rape' scale?

She even went so far as to summon Irri, hoping her caresses might help ease her way to rest, but after a short while she pushed the Dothraki girl away. Irri was sweet and soft and willing, but she was not Daario.

Oh look she's in the negative :/

How's she doing on the slavery front? She's got all the power now...

"Your slave Missandei." Jhiqui had a taper in her hand.

"My servant. I have no slaves." Dany did not understand. "Why does she weep?"

xxx

There was no slavery in the free city of Pentos. Nonetheless, they were slaves.

...

D*enerys spends five books gaining power. How does this affect the condition of her people? Is the condition of the Meereenese better than the condition of the Lhazareen had been, all the way back in the first book? No. It's worse.

People have still been raped. People have still been enslaved/remained enslaved. People have starved. People have been brutally murdered. And at a much larger scale than book 1.

This is what it comes down to. D*ny is a villain because her climb to power is characterized by death and destruction, always. Isn't that the trademark of a villain?

D*ny is a girl who truly believes in her own PR, but when you look at her words and actions-

"The Good Master has said that these eunuchs cannot be tempted with coin or flesh," Dany told the girl, "but if some enemy of mine should offer them freedom for betraying me . . ."

"They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that," the slaver answered. "Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all."

xxx

"No," she pleaded. "Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way … some magic, some …"

...how much of her actions are truly altruistic? How much is performative?

Despite her anti-slavery rhetoric, D*ny consistently benefits from slavery- and slavery flourishes.

Despite her 'oh no I don't wanna bring death and destruction anywhere', her actions continue to bring exactly that- and it never stops her from doing it all over again the next time.

Not to dismiss her internal struggle. But really. Being upset at the thought that you might be a bad person doesn't make you a good person. For that matter, being worried if you're going mad or not...doesn't mean you're not (not that I'm saying she is). Seriously, where did that logic even come from? Ultimately, her internal struggle makes her a more compelling character, sure, but it doesn't actually make her a better person.

The point is, her story is absolutely rooted in hypocrisy. Her destructiveness only escalates with her power. Her so-called good intentions never pan out- because her own actions undermine them. And because she has the self-awareness of a pigeon, she never gets better.

She IS the villain who thinks she's a hero. She isn't just a villain because she's done bad things, but because she's utterly unaware (or deliberately obtuse) of the bad things she's done, and so she's incapable of learning, and so she's only getting worse.

Take a step outside her POV and it suddenly becomes clear.

Let's recap.

D*ny has-

Wayy more power in Meereen. Less in Lhazareen

D*ny did-

Less to prevent rape in Meereen. More in Lhazareen

D*ny benefitted from-

Slavery in Meereen. Slavery in Lhazareen

D*ny was-

A slaver in Meereen. A slaver in Lhazareen

D*ny wreaked-

Death and destruction in Meereen. Death and destruction in Lhazareen.

D*ny, riding high on her power-

Ordered the murder of children. And much more.

Power is NOT good for D*ny.

#dark!dany #anti daenerys targaryen #d**y stans do NOT interact #yea I censored her name twice just to be sure

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makiema · 3 years

Text

finally finished writing about how much stormbringer enhances the skk dynamic which was at a nascent stage in Fifteen and anticipates the developments which happen later and culminate in Dead Apple where the faith they have in each other is absolutely remarkable! the fact that i said i’d do this in a few hours yesterday but it took me like 24 hrs to finish i have an attention span of a whole 2 minutes 💀

my favorite thing about stormbringer is that it actually builds up on the concepts/themes introduced in Fifteen so it's a glimpse into what has changed in dazai and dazai & dhuuya after one year of being together. As much as it's about chuuya confronting his past and his identity this is also about dazai’s development from who he was in fifteen. chuuya and rimbaud both left their marks on dazai and in Stormbringer we see him, actually trying to emulate or follow in a sense a way of life, that chuuya and rimbaud represented. Stormbringer is not just about chuuya, abt his test of humanity, or he coming in terms with who or what he is. it's about dazai too. it's about dazai developing or at least attempting to develop what he calls “boyish”/ “ordinary” in Fifteen. its not about chuya having an identity crisis. in fact what we understand from Code 04's last section is that chuuya never considered it as his crisis and neither did dazai. so to dazai “saving chuuya is important, human or not doesn't matter” and when dazai gives chuuya time to think abt what the operation will cost him chuuya doesnt so much as flinch form his purpose. This goes on to show unlike verlaine he doesnt care about memory and certainly doesnt consider it as the only determinant of someone being human. He cares more abt yokohama and his friends and in that, in caring abt his “family”, he is just as human as the next person. whether he’s factually human or not comes secondary to his desire to save people. This is a message that the quality of being human has more to do with embodying human qualities or humanity than having memories and lineage. so yeah stormbringer is essentially about embracing humanity but this happens on 2 levels: both chuuya and dazai embrace humanity. Going back to the boyish or ordinary bit, im talking abt this segment:

here dazai is shocked because he assumed everyone “gangsta” and everyone crazy powerful delighted in homicide, in deliberately indulging in the macabre. but he is proved wrong. He logically concluded that anyone with power more than average and belonging to the underground would kill people and delight in that because it’s a given they lack any kind of moral understanding. To that end, they’d be exalted at the prospect of relentlessly shooting a dead body, mutilating it and dishonoring it. The mafia code (any general mafia code) works in a way where honor and death goes hand in hand. So only the lowest of the low would do that to a dying person, who even when faced with certain death is loyal to his own organisation. This really shows that even within the mafia dazai is the only person whos like the devil incarnate. So yeah dazai at this sate far lower than even a mafia member. But chuuya who actually embodiess the mafia code and is incredibly loyal to his organisation and “family” [ putting family in quotes bc he himself calls his friends family 🥺] ofc kicks the gun away. From dazai’s pov chuuya being as insanely powerful as he is should also do the same. But chuuya comes along and suggests that even enemies should be shown respect where it’s due. And that is what an ordinary person, oblivious to mafia life (mafia life as in waht dazai makes of it) thinks. So in undermining the binary between “ordinary” and “mafia” chuuya proves that being mafia doesnt necessarily mean selling your soul to the devil and giving up the last smidge of humanity. In fact by embodying qualities like compassion and kindness and mutual respect, you can make the mafia a better place for yourself and for the other members. Now in Stormbringer, we see how this affected dazai. here dazai is introduced as someone mercilessly killing to set up the channel.

Now to expand the channel one would need to keep doing it right? To mercilessly kill ppl and stuff but instead what he does is hand the channel over to chuuya bc he knows chuuya wouldnt handle it like him. im not suggesting that dazai miraculously becomes v good or anything with dazai the key words is “try” or “to some extent” like in Fifteen when Chuuya asks “do u wanna live” he’s like “ not to that extent”. similarly its not to say he doesnt kill people anymore. it is that he tries to lessen the number of casualties by handing over one of the most troublesome channels to chuuya who would manage it in a much more humane way. That dazai draws from his friends/at least tries to is smth we’ll see again later on when he deals with akutagawa. He talks about odasaku and ofc its baffling to him that a mafia member as powerful as him would be taking acre of orphans. and dazai says but he cant afford to be that kind and proceeds to shoot akutagswa but again does so in a calculated way such that he doesnt end up killing him ( im NOT justifying dazai’s abuse not at all im just saying that its hard to believe he coincidentally knew the exact no of bullets that aku could block. and had odasaku’s words and his way of life not been in the back of his mind he could’ve ended up killing aku) coming back to chuuya and dazai we also see him avoiding further conversation on the jewelry channel thing as he says “leave that for now”. He does a similar thing again when mori brings up the concept of double suiciding with chuuya.

Its a HUGE thing for him to digest that him suiciding would inevitably spell the doom for chuuya. this puts an unimaginable responsibility on him. And he avoids further discussion on this. Now we know dazai is the rambly type. Even in the most dire moments he goe son with his LOONG monologues so really he is the last person who’d avoid a conversation but he deliberately does it in these 2 instances because its hard for him to grasp these things. That he can go against his nature and do a conscientious thing by handing over one of the most grisly channels to chuuya (i dont think dazai’s nature is evil. Or even if it is, its a a social construct keeping in mind the war ravaged times or its mori’s construct because he does exploit dazai to the hilt. but dazai ofc thinks of himself as non-human, devious. perfectly devilish...etc.) And also the fact that someone as suicidal as him is actually responsible for the life of someone else is really too much to take in. a whole 10 seconds pause indicates just how much he was thrown off when mori opened his eyes to the reality of things: if he dies, chuuya inexorably dies as a consequence. also i dont think the “wow” here or the next bit :

is something jokey. if it was like haha double suicide with chuuya is the worst haha wanna do it w pretty lady kind of a deal. that pause would have been unnecessary. dazai’s immediate reaction would’ve been whining and shit. the use of “froze” too implies the gravity of the situation. so ofc what is “wow” is how much meaning his life has for someone else. and for some so much....better than him. and what is unacceptable is this sad, sad truth that his life (to which he ascribes no value) would be so inextricably linked with someone else’s and hold so much meaning to them. it is like when a suicidal person at the brink of suicide understanding his life is not his own. his life and death holds consequences for ppl surrounding him. so both of these are huge things to grasp and at both these times dazai is visibly shaken up so much so that he doesnt want to do his favorite thing- ramble in a condescending tone. smth he does in so many instances. this really is a testimony to the fact that things are changing in him. the redemption process has begun. he’s no longer the kind of maniac he was before he encountered chuuya. when zuko underwent his transition in atla he was so shaken up after one (1) right decision he had a fever. i think this is true for anyone who’s trying to change. change is after all a huge thing for everyone. ofc he’ll be unsettled. so anyways this is proof that he has indeed come a long way from being someone who revelled at the prospect of meaningless bloodshed.

now coming to the concept of love he assumes he’d get sick of love and die:

and that death is the singular goal worth chasing after because it makes you feel more alive/get a fuller picture of what living entails. but here he is erring by supposing love is something that’ll bore him/have no meaning. and it cant provide him that “something” he’s looking for. at this point he hasn’t loved so he doesnt know whether he’ll be sick of it or if it'll have no impact. And yet he’s morose and regretful. this is a kind of self-imposed constraint hes putting on himself. he cancels out the v idea of love because hes convinced it isnt worth it. he hasnt even been in love okay scratch being in love that sounds romantic and i really dont mean love in a romantic sense here...its just love. in general. any form is cool. anyway so dazai is not familiar with any kind of love. He is entirely alien to the concept. he doesnt even know what a friend/partner is so he doesnt know what love is. this is cleared out here when rimbaud confesses he did everything for paul and dazai is unconvinced:

chuuya ofc admonishes him and shuts him up for good, he says dazai has no right lookind down upon smth he doesnt understand. he doesnt understand friendship, love. or loyalty. or how important those feelings are at this point. now this situation is turned on its head in stormbringer. but before we go into that let’s look at the message rimbaud had for both of them. ik he specifically asks for chuuya to “live” but there’s purpose behind including both of them in the frame. it’s a message they should both take to heart. and at the end of it its implied both are changed after hearing it:

and in this message the first bit is for chuuya. what he says is basically memory doesn’t make u human... ”you are you” just a frame or not doesnt matter. and even if hes just a frame, he is still beautiful. beauty actually is a v important concept in literature starting right from Plato to Shakespeare. i’d not bring this here but because bsd is so deeply rooted in literature i feel like the reference to beauty, and later on to soul and even warmth and also the universal tone of this message carries some meaning. so the thing is both Plato and Shakespeare were endorsed the idea of love as a force awakened in the world by beauty which then leads the soul to perfection. so humans and by extension, all life are beautiful frames that can inspire love. this concept is also there in Romantic poetry like Keats and Wordsworth all of them talked about loving beauty in nature and how that can elevate the body mind and soul. so essentially in telling this to chuuya what ehe basically means is that chuuya just by being him, by being a beautiful framework can inspire love and warmth in others and thats a great purpose! how much chuuya understands of this purpose with his one (1) braincell and his low self esteem is questionable but he gets some sense of belonging. now this is a two way relationship so ofc dazai has to be factored in. he comes in the next part:

these are from 2 different translation so the disparity im sorry ;-; but anyway, this last part abt the world being a cold place. then paul. then “warmth” is a message to dazai who’s been introduced to us as cold-hearted and having like no bearings of a human being. this is the reason why its important for both o f them to be there. now going back to chuuya being a beautiful framework, the framework can be beautiful in so far as its beauty is appreciate by someone and inspires warmth and love in someone. this again is the whole beauty/beholder nature/the romantic concept that is there in shakespeare and in Romantic poetry where both are a part of a codependent relationship. so what rimbaud implies here is that dazai can have that kind of a relationship with another person (chuuya) just like rimbaud had with paul which makes him warm and the world doesnt feel cold anymore. rimbaud has no regrets about what he did because. so the idea is that dazai and chuuya can share the same dynamic. also after this, the narrative says that their hearts are now changed and wont return to what they were before....and even their souls are refined in a way. but in Fifteen we dont have a concrete proof of how this happened bc the novel ends at this point. Instead, Stormbringer shows exactly how deep the impact of those words is:

this is the third instance of dazai showing hesitation and once again this has to do with chuuya. the seed of the dynamic that rimbaud was talking about is already germinating in him. his reactions, his fidgeting, his hesitancy, in response to chuuya’s situation is such a big contrast to his cocksure self when he’s conversing with adam and verlaine. after this of course we have:

not only does he clearly express his concern but he gives chuuya 2 whole mins to make a decision and based on that he’s prepared to overturn the operation. the success rate of an alternative plan will ofc be lesser than the og one but that doesnt faze dazai. he’s ready to turn the tide for chuuya’s sake and if this is not development idk what is. just a year ago, he was someone to whom the concept of rimbaud going thru all that trouble for his friend was a lost concept. ironically enough, now he finds himself doing something that is along the same lines. he puts chuuya above his mission. to him, chuuya is more important than getting a satisfactory result. another bit that i wanna talk abt is that one controversial section where dazai says he’ll save chuuya, human or not, and then the justification is:

i think a lot of people got mad bc of this and honestly at first glance i was peeved too. as a chuuya stan some of the shit dazai has done so far did rub me the wrong way. i love skk obv but still those were moments that kind of left a bad taste in the mouth. i’ll discuss them later on bc stormbringer helps allay that feeling. coming back to the “i wanna see chuuya suffer” part firstly context is important. ofc someone like dazai cant be expected to be upfront about his feelings with ppl (or AI) he barely knows. so what be relays to adam, is only partly true and its actually a kind of a twist in concept. the things is, and this is smth dazai knows all too well is that ppl suffer simply on account of being human. human suffering is brought on because humans, by virtue of being humans, feel. so when he says he’s willing to acknowledge chuuya as human despite what N and Verlaine said he’s already admitting that chuuya suffers. so there is really nothing “new” to see for him. he knows chuuya suffers already and he does too because they’re both humans trying to make it thru their messed up lives. also chuuya “ceasing to be human” is a p huge concern for him bc he himself is like that. just like with the suicide thing, it bothers dazai when someone else shares his situation/his fate like as long as his life is his own, he has no problem ending it whenever but the situation is complicated when someone else’s life span is determined by that decision. and similarly, as long as he is “no longer human” its not that much of an issue because he’s like resigned to a doomed fate but someone like chuuya ceasing to be human or worse yet never getting to know if hes human or not are pressing matters. so anyways what he actually means here is that in saving chuuya, he saves someone who suffers just like he does and in their case, even the cause of suffering boils down to a shared psychological conflict: what essentially constitutes being human and if im human or not. now this sharing of pain and suffering is the foundation of forming a connection with someone, which makes life a little better. here again, what rimaud imparted to dazai and chuuya is driven home. also dazai’s key anxiety is not finding meaning/anything. this “anything” can be assumed to be something that justifies life. so all his anxiety and frustration stems from the fact that there really is no discernible meaning to be found in the mechanism of life. so it is an empty pursuit because it is true that nothing can explain why feelings of pain and suffering are exponentially heavier than feelings of happiness or why after getting to experience one (1) free day we’re back to square one where life is grueling. these are questions that really dont have an answer so every time dazai like gazes into the abyss and says he didnt find anything, he is not so much asking if he’ll ever find anything as swallowing the hard truth that there is nothing to be found, no singular entity exists that can magically justify everything. again drawing upon literature or philosophy more specifically, there’s a concept called Absurdism which says the only philosophical truth so to say is this that life is absurd and looking for meaning is futile. instead what we can do is accept that it is absurd and deal with it in the best way possible, by finding little sources and moments of happiness, and strewing them together so we feel somewhat content. even if it is just for a fleeting second. and this happiness/contentment amidst a wretched life (altho temporal) can be found in friendship, in sharing, and even in having fun with people you’re comfortable with! this is actually why dazai wants to save chuuya and now it may seem like im interpreting his words through the shipping lens but thats not so and it can be corroborated by looking into dazai’s words to odasaku. after chuuya, dazai’s next attempt at friendship was odasaku who he found “interesting”. now when odasaku sort of like threw hands and chose death over having to live a life without the orphans, dazai tried to stop him not by saying stuff like life is good. and things will def change for the better. but instead he admits that living is hard and the sense of void is ubiquitous and yet he doesnt want him to up and die because then he would be sad. because the little comfort that he got from odasaku and something he probably assumed odasaku also got from him would be gone. [how much odasaku considered dazai a source of comfort remains unclear. in fact the reason odasaku gave up and died was because he did not have this. this feeling of sharing in someone else’s suffering and seeking comfort in friends in the real world. instead he was too vested in his ideal world. his over reliance on an entirely idealistic concept is actually what pushed him over the edge. and this would have been the case for dazai too had he not encountered and sought comfort and companionship in chuuya and eventually in odasaku ] so this again goes on to show how rimbaud’s words changed dazai’s heart. and in a way dazai really has been doing this unconsciously form the v beginning like by teasing chuuya continually in Fifteen. you dont expect someone as cold as him to indulge in friendly bickering and taunting so often but he does. that there is significance and even happiness in that is something he learns over time, after rimbaud’s words to him. although these things seem futile on the surface they give a moment’s respite. so although chuuya spinning dazai on a rope in stormbringer might seem weird to everyone, they still serve a purpose:

what shirase puts forward is particularly relevant here because neither dazai nor chuuya is fully aware of the extent of their feelings (or even what those feelings are like they dont know what label to put. so typical oblivious lovers) for each other or what they stand to gain just by driving each other nuts but there is something intangible but satisfying to be felt. a kind of contentment that helps him continue. one day at a time. there is no one great “thing” that can make him like wake up one day feeling like he doesnt want to die ever again. but again like i said before, the key word for dazai is “extent” so, these little things to some extent contribute to a sense of fulfilment which helps him keep death at bay. thats why he’s bent on saving chuuya bc he knows they can share in their suffering and make life better for each other. its not like he wants chuuya to suffer. chuuya will suffer nonetheless like every other human. but in suffering together there is something to be found so he doesnt want him to cease being human.

this covers more or less the intertextuality between Stormbringer and Fifteen. i just wanna talk a bit more about a couple other moments in Stormbringer that i feel are p important because they put some things in the series in perspective and also made the dead apple moment 10x more emotional 🥺 one thing that really strikes me is the absolute fanon level of comfort that dazai and chuuya share in Strombringer. its like scenes form k-drama lol.

so yeah this stuff. compare this with dazai’s reaction @atsushi when he drops im not saying that its not just a joke and that what im saying should be the right way to look at this contrast. its not like that at all. but what this does is give an estimate to the readers just how close and comfortable dazai feels when its chuuya. and this plus everything i rambling on abt for so long also gives us an estimate about the sincerity of dazais feelings. now 2 things always bothered me : the fact that dazai actually left chuuya and the fact that after the fight against lovecraft he actualy deserted him (this again can ofc be construed as just a humorous bit but still it did leave a bad taste in my mouth) dazai leaving the mafia is ofc something he had to do to fulfil oda’s dying wish but it still dint sit right with me that he would abandon chuuya. just like oda levaing is harder on dazai, dazai leaving is harder on chuuya. its always harder on the one left behind. so anyway, these sorts of things sometimes made me doubt dazai’s feelings but now that stormbringer clears it all up i do think there is a larger motif at work here. when mori offers dazai to come back to the mafia in s2 we see him saying that it was mori who kicked him out and that he did so because he was afraid dazai would usurp his position. so he set it up in a way that dazai would be forced to leave but on his own accord. now more than usurpation i believe what mori really did fear is that dazai had no allegiance to the mafia (which is actually true) bc he doesnt have that sense of loyalty and that to him his friends were more important than swearing allegiance to mori. (which again is true). so by getting oda killed, the message that mori seemed to be giving out was if dazai didnt leave he would do it again. and if we consider ango’s betrayal which had already transpired at that point, the one mori would next target to sort of get at dazai would inevitably be chuuya. this is only conjecture but still, i do believe this might as well be true because then it would explain why dazai didnt carry chuuya back to the base after their fight [something he was v comfortable doing in Stormbringer. in fact in the first case he carries chuuya back to the billiards bar and not to the mafia’s base so he could hear albatross’ last words 🥺] its because mori needs to know unlike dazai, chuuya is absolutely loyal to him which regrettably he is. it kinda becomes imperative therefore on part of dazai to make it seem that way to mori. that they really are at each others throats and that dazai is insignificant to chuuya. and that the mafia comes before dazai. (which is not true bc we see chuuya protecting his friend [shirase] while also staying loyal to the mafia in Stormbringer)

mori also in his own way tries to provoke hostility b/w them like in Dead Dpple when he was all like yeah so dazai is the star and chuuya is merely bait. so it kinda makes sense if dazai left the mafia not only to like do good work but also to protect chuuya from mori. also the fact that chuuya did the same thing— left the Sheep and joined PM to protect Shirase from the mafia makes be believe that my speculation is plausible given all the parallels we find between dazai and chuuya.

and the last bit is about the brilliant Dead Apple scene and how much added context it gets in light of Stormbringer.

in this scene dazai first says: “you used Corruption believing in me?” and then the translation is “how beautiful” which is an okay translation but the exact thing dazai said was “nakasetekurerune” which literally is : youre gonna make me cry you know? now my knowledge of japanese is like duolingo level but i do know “nakasete” has to do with crying and “kureru” is used by the receiver to indicate he’s receiving a feeling/object from someone close. so basically chuuya trusting him is something so beautiful that it could almost move him to tears. now lets look at dazai’s intro in Stormbringer:

dazai, being dazai, ofc would be able to tell genuine trust from fealty out of fear so ofc the fact that chuuya has this kind of blind faith in him is overwhelming for him. also stormbringer really expands on the sight effects of Corruption in full detail. its so PAINFUL and to think that chuuya would jump into it right away for dazai’s sake.....no wonder he is so soft when deactivating him. and then he proceeds to flirt for a little bit with the Snow White and the kiss of life reference. but this flirting doesnt seem even a little out of place now. it doesn't feel like smth meaningless or smth that dazai is just saying as a joke. that there is absoluetly no subtext to making a statement like that. instead that kind of flirting feels like smth inspired from a deep, deep familiarity with someone who really shares his heart and soul. when he talks to chuuya abt the problem of not knowing whether he is human or not, it is a problem that is as central to him as it’s to chuuya. not feeling fully reconciled to a human identity is a problem thats fundamental to both of them. I don’t think familiarity gets any deeper than this where you share the exact same psychological problem. so its really wonderful how we can trace the skk development now: what starts out as a crush on part of dazai or not a crush exactly rather, a feeling of perplexed admiration because chuuya is breathtakingly beautiful inside out, eventually gain all these layers and develops into something meaningful where they have so much faith in each other and where they literally help each other live. knowing someone out there shares your exact issue so you’re really not alone in this is perhaps the greatest comfort in the world. also now its clear how both of them would have turned out had they not met each other and had they not taken in rimbaud’s advice. chuuya in his desire to learn about himself and frustration at not being able to do the same would have perhaps spiralled downward and ended up becoming like verlaine. he is his double here after all. and had dazai not seen chuuya up close being the wonderful person he is, he too would have probably ended up developing a god complex and becoming like fyodor. dazai is there to save chuuya literally from dying a monster and chuuya is there to remind him he too can try and mend his ways and embrace his human side. after all chuuya has so much trust him in! (despite him having questionable methods) for both of them, it starts out as an attempt to be more human, then establishing a fruitful partnership, and finally coming in terms with their feelings to some extent. for dazai, he’s comfortable enough to engage in occasional flirting at this point and for chuuya it’s playing along with dazai’s antics (well with the ones he get 💀 pretty boy has half a functional braincell) and openly showing his concern for him. so really by confirming their feelings what strombringer does is enhance the skk development in a way that Dead Apple doesnt seem like fan service anymore. the fact that dazai would casually flirt or be comfortable with chuuya landing on his crotch 💀 all that isnt as ridiculous as it first seemed because stormbringer lays the groundwork and anticipates all the intimate/flirty skk moments that have happened till now and ig will happen again soon.

#bsd #stormbringer #soukoku #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs #stormbringer spoilers #bsd meta #bsd analysis

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flowerflamestars · 3 years

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I'm in a very angry-with-the-IC-and-Rhys-in-particular mood, and since I'm just rereading Daylight I was wondering, what is going through Rhysand's mind throughout the events of Daylight? Because it's basically his entire life CRUMBLING around him and I'd love to see the mental gymnastics he does to fit it all into his "I'm the good guy, actually" narrative. Or just his general reaction.

this is a FABULOUS question, thank you!

Daylight! Rhys is, in my opinion, the closest to a canonical (pre-acosf) character representation that I go for. He's so SO fucked up, and sublimating and burying all that trauma has, of course, failed, and it's all manifesting, in all these different directions.

To understand the level on which Rhys is losing his shit, it's important to go back to the very beginning: Rhysand, to Rhysand, is always, always the hero of the story. The down on his luck knight with truth in his heart. The struggling, just man.

He CANNOT seeing beyond himself for even a second. He casts himself in the most important role, as the only person whose personal consequences exist.

His mother, at probable great risk, takes him to Illyria to be trained- the precious, first-born, godly son of Night. To learn to fight- to learn, presumably, her culture- to see what that culture is reduced to, a harshness he will on day have the power to change. Rhys had to be, at some point, a great hope for Not High Fae denizens of the Court.

What does Rhysie learn? Illyria is harsh. Illyria is bad. Backwards and cruel.

He hates his father for...presumably, the crime of being a pretty traditional High Lord? Rhys hates the cruelties! the Court of Nightmares! the broken system!

So what does Rhys do when he has power? he fires everyone. He doesn't like them, he doesn't like whatever they did under his father...so instead of hiring new people, he removes himself entirely from a potential role in changing/mitigating those policies. See also: the Court of Nightmares, cowed occasionally, but not in any way governed by Rhys.

But he's the hero! He's destroyed the oppression! His Court of Just his Bros is made of women and Illyrians!

(Rhys removed the terribleness from his direct experience...because only his experiences matter)

So, Rhys in his head: the struggle, the hero, the man just trying to do it right.

Which brings us to Daylight....and Feyre. I know we can attribute the way the characters stop even remotely being sympathetic between acomaf and...everything else...to poor writing, but I also think there's some (maybe accidental but PERFECT) character work there: in acomaf, pre-acknowledged bond, Feyre is an important possession/ally- she's on the same level as the other members of the Court of Dreams, if the jewel of the collection, a high point in the story Rhys tells himself: HE saved the HERO OF PRYTHIAN

(which...let's not even touch on the fact that the deal he makes in acotar is CREEPY and he can only justify it later. she wasn't someone he wanted to work with in acotar- she was a vulnerable, hot young woman he fully took advantage of)

And then they're mates.

And then, slowly but surely, Feyre's personhood disappears. For two reasons: 1) Feyre is on a pedestal so sky-high it blots out everything. Good, pure, true hero Feyre whose adoration Rhysand needs like air. the happy end of his story, the prize and the salvation, the one who sees him.

and 2) ultimately, to Rhys, Feyre is an extension of him. A symbol: his happiness, his peace, his endless power, what he fought to keep.

She's his whole anchor staying sane, which isn't great, considering...ya know, everything. But the Story is Over. They are Happy.

Except- except- nothing is over. Post fifty straight years of torture, a freefall into war and fuckery, teen marriage and literal death, the consequences for all those things AND THE SHIT RHYS WAS PULLING LONG BEFORE AMARANTHA TURNED HIM INTO A CHEW TOY, are still present.

But now, he has something to protect. His golden future. His puppy Mate.

Because Feyre's safety is the safety of his power and vice versa. Anything he does is justifiable because the loss of Feyre is Not an Option. She is Happy. They Are Happy.

It bleeds into everything- and then it intensifies, because this is the breaking point.

The Az/Lucien thing and Feyre incredibly hurtful blindness? No Rhys isn't going to interfere- Az is so private anyway- if Feyre believes its a romantic bond, Feyre is right, she knows her sister, not that it matters because Elain is totally out of her mind.

Sending Cassian to Illyria? Illyria is a backwards shithole right? They're fierce fighters and that's what Rhys values them for- as the hammer of his power- and nothing else? why would there be anything else? Look at them fighting and hurting each other.

Nesta runs and Cassian is left throwing himself in battles actively trying to die and Rhys? Rhys is totally smug. A problem that hurt Feyre and his brother is GONE.

But it's not gone. Az isn't talking to anyone- and Rhys thinks this probably means Lucien is probably, finally fucking him- but even Feyre understands that Azriel knows where Nesta is. When this is proved (when Elain surfaces and they have the very fun kitchen fight) Rhys isn't happy- but he understands. Azriel has always felt responsible for broken things.

But thats not his job, it's Rhysands job, and Rhys has already made that tough choice for the safety of his own: Nesta has no place here. When she resurfaces inevitably, broke and wanting something, Rhys will stop her before she gets close enough to upset (hurt) Feyre. It's his job.

Cassian goes missing, and Rhysand sets upon what will become his eventual move: Illyria's value is strength. (a martial strength that belongs to RHYS). But they think they can take from him? They can destroy their own best chance? (Rhys recognizes Cassian's value to Illyria even while, you know, ordering him to slaughter Illyrians) They would threaten his power? hurt his family?

Rhys will not allow a world to exist where Feyre can be hurt.

If Illyria can't be controlled, Illyria will be put down, like the rabid creatures they are. (They were always backwards, Rhys thinks. Freeing my mother was the one good thing my father ever did)

But Cassian lives.

Rhys asks Azriel if he's been cursed. Az laughs in his face.

And Cassian is a terrible enemy to have. The strategies the loyalists are using? His, filtered through Rhys. The magical contingencies? Cassian and Az, trying to prevent bloodshed.

Feyre thinks, for a long time, that maybe the rebels have Nesta. What else could compel Cassian to even care? these people keep trying to kill him. they want to kill Rhys. the brothers suffered in the frozen mud at the hands of these monsters, what is Cassian doing?

And then the massacre happens.

And Feyre sick to her stomach, cries when she hears. Rhysand thinks about a little hazel eyed boy who'd never had a bed, a present, who'd been nothing until Rhysand plucked him up- a little boy who'd grown into a dangerous man, who'd just killed every person who ever contributed to his pain. Rhys thinks, knowing he'll have to punish Cassian for this, that it's over.

The camp lords are dead, it has to be over.

(Azriel hears and understands- because he knows damn well Cassian was something before Rhysand, and after despite him. That beneath those repeatedly broken ribs is a heart that was once so big so save him, grown strong enough now to save everyone who was like them: forgotten, abandoned, used.)

It's not over. The mountains are burning. Banners fly on northern wind in a language long dead. They're singing, the spies say, they call him dawn. Loyal-heart-as-dawn.

It's Cassians name. Not that Rhys, who never knew more than a few vile insults in the language of his mother's ancient, proud people, understood it then.

Rhysand, the long-suffering hero of his own story, has been betrayed.

He can risk no more- it's time to end this madness. It's Feyre's idea to use Elain- it's Feyre who is left crying, a betrayal Rhysand will never forget- when Elain, who they've given everything, Elain, perhaps just as broken and wretched as her eldest sister, refuses to help keep Feyre safe.

(Elain refuses to participate in what she sees as genocide, but as we've established, what consequences exist? the ones Rhys feels right in front of his face)

Azriel, Elain, and Lucien run.

Of course, if both Feyre's sisters are capable of betraying her, of course, both of Rhysand's brothers would as well. They are one in the same, aren't they? Marked by destiny, by fate for this hard and terrible work- of course it hurts. Of course- but Rhysand will stop it from hurting Feyre any more.

There's one force in the world that can stand in truth against Illyria. The Darkbringers- their ancestral, ancient conquers.

(Yes, I do think Rhys knows the shitty, shitty history of his court! He just doesn't care! He didn't do it. He's different. He's in Velaris with the common people. He has wings. He's not his father.)

(He is, in fact, far worse)

When he thinks of it, it seems perfect. Illyria will be destroyed- a loss, but a safe one. Keir, will, almost certainly, also be destroyed or at least critically weakened.

Rhysand will stand alone, the man who was willing to do anything for peace. He will rule over an emptied playing field, secure in a world where Feyre is safe.

The Hewn City empties, the armies march- Rhysand holds tight Feyre's hand, says nothing about the fact that nothing, nothing, will stop Keir from killing anyone in front of him when battle starts, and reaches once more for Cassian's mind.

His brother, his friend, his loyal right hand- he begs him to come back. To come home. That they can put down this rebellion and in his love for Cassian everything can go back to how it is meant to be, all of them together.

It does not occur to him to address the hundreds dead. The system he was complicit in and responsible for that ground a culture to dust and ash- what matters is brother against brother should never have turned, and Rhys, in his kindness, will offer Cassian this last chance for honor.

Rhys doesn't want Cassian to die- he wants Cassian by his side- but he will drown the world in blood before he'll lose his crown and hope and Feyre.

And when Cassian dies, falling to the earth in Rhysand's arms, Rhys thinks of penance.

A circle closed.

But of course- Cassian wakes. Death is not done with her right hand anymore than the contract between Lordship and land in immutable. Cassian brought the magic back, brought Illyria back.

Rhys is fighting for something personal- Cassian is fighting for a whole world and future, with everything in himself.

When the new border is drawn, Rhys doesn't despair- sure he's shaking, he's covered in Cassian's blood, his twelve thousand year old walls are smoking and the whole world smells like fucking Nesta Archeron- he's been the victim of curses before.

He won't let it keep him down. He'll be fine. He has Feyre, they're safe. Illyria is going to implode- and maybe, maybe, he'll save some of those that remain when the violence is too much, when they need a real High Lord.

They'll come home. Just like Feyre's sisters will. Rhysand's brothers. They fought for peace and Velaris has it- it is their home.

It's what they fought for, the happy ending, and it's all worth it.

It has to be worth it.

#Rhys is deadset a huge narcissist #and in the middle of a breakdown the entirety of daylight #he's SO HURT #But's turning all that hurt into anger #and an even stricter paranoia #its all catching up to him #everything from imperialism #to the shitty way he treated his friends #to the Winter Massacre that yes was absolutely him #this is more of a Shoreless Concept but all of feysand can be summed up #by Feyre making teary BUT WE'RE FAMILY demands and Rhys immediately committing a literal warcrime #and like #I do think Rhys hates himself too #but for wildly the wrong reasons #and never more or in a real way that overcomes how much he thinks everything he does is right #Cassian's death was a cost to them #as Nesta tells Feyre: what's done cannot be undone. Rhys chose wrong #the truly bonkers Rhys thing in canon #will always be that he's both represented as Most Powerful Ever #and the wrongly ignored underdog #when in fact he throws around power constantly for petty shitty reasons

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instituteled · 2 years

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Camp Here & There E1-10 Sentence Meme

Slightly altered for roleplay, change pronouns as fit. Faint Themes of Death and Horror.

I really like to talk. Sometimes I talk too much.

The Get-To-Know-You games, the orientation lectures, the part where they make you sign all the waivers but won’t let you read them.

Try not to look directly at the bonfire for too long; it will try to lure you in.

Everyone likes to think they’d never get tired of buttered bread!

I will salt you like a slug, my friend. Like a slug.

That guy is wrong in the head.

In my senior year of High School, I was voted “Most Likely To Get Killed As Consequence Of Reckless Thirst For Forbidden Knowledge”.

Mushrooms are friends, not food.

Your dreams will be interesting tonight!

I keep very close track of my worms. I know when I’m missing worms.

I haven’t had a hallucination in years!

What, the dark vagaries of good-old eldritch thaumaturgy not alluring enough for you anymore?

I don’t want to be alarmist, but... we appear to have an — an infestation on our hands.

A common midwestern breed of flightless bastard.

I expected that I was going to be sacrificed in some sort of ritual.

Here’s a more optimistic perspective on all of this — after today’s excitement, you’ll probably sleep too deeply for nightmares.

Maybe I’m making friends with a ghost.

My plans for how I’m going to lure you in with a carrot on a string and trap you in an inescapable corn maze.

Nothing like a healthy nightmare or three to make one grateful for the time they spend awake!

Well, whatever she has planned, it’s probably more fun than lakes of blood!

He’s so sick of the sky, and who can blame him?

Warn your fellows not to look up if you don’t want to learn what it looks like when a child’s irises melt off!

You better have those corpses handy.

When you die, you will rot.

Things will get very ugly if she has to go out and look for you.

Instead, life without death. Life without the miracle of birth or the mercy of death; just eternal awareness, and eternal sickness.

You know how sometimes, you look into an animal’s eyes and find them… lacking? Empty, like a doll’s?

She sorta reminded me of my mother.

You know, the spooky death magic one?

Her eyes were super unnerving, you don’t normally see people with eyes like that.

I know you care, and I love you.

So that means you love it, right? You’re saying you’re relishing my pain?

The government will not punish us in any way if we mess up.

If he dies on opposite day, it actually means he’ll live forever!

This afternoon’s activities are screaming until you pass out, and breaking your legs with hammers.

If I find out you were behind this, I’ll prescribe you every ounce of my most copious painkiller, and then I won’t order a restock, and you’ll have to spend the rest of the Summer suffering the withdrawal symptoms.

Am I that desensitized to pain?

He was real sweet to me too, actually, giving me all these reassuring touches and words.

I mean, there’s not much more spectacular bloodshed.

I hope you sleep peacefully in the astral realm.

It’s just so satisfying to wield psychological power over a man in a button-up.

Ah, the memories of being a child and injecting my dry irises with Raspberry Red.

You wouldn’t want to accidentally heal someone you’re trying to murder.

Only the most evil board games allowed.

Your friends shouldn’t have to play therapist for you, right?

I — this is sort of embarrassing, but I never learned to read analogue clocks.

What terrifying cosmic secrets will you unlock today?

Oh, if I were as skilled at insult and injury today as I was when I was your age, I’d rule the world.

Don’t we just love when men learn from their mistakes and improve?

I just don’t understand why you put a mushroom in your hair.

I try to be nice to them so that they’re nice to be when I’m dead.

There’s a centipede in my study.

I prefer to keep my nails long so I can defend myself from scary things like… men.

He sure knows how to give a good talkin’-to, y’know? It’s kind of a lost art.

But your husband is definitely a criminal. I mean… definitely. No doubt.

Sorry we never got to meet your husband.

Stupid name, though.

I don’t claim to understand the mind of a criminal.

It’s — BARELY illegal. It’s-it’s-it’s like — it’s the kind of thing that’s only illegal in this particular state. It’s like Kinder Eggs.

The bloodstains on her teeth are not decorative.

You are talking like a villain in a storybook!

This is not the fucking Discovery channel!

Fine, I am jealous! I’m jealous! Okay? God! Everyone thinks he’s awesome and everyone thinks I’m annoying. Maybe that bothers me a little.

You turned one simple, friendly insult into a pissing contest.

Don’t be like me: set boundaries!

Oh, the fun of the hospital!

I’m not fit to be a wartime nurse!

[ Name ] has a flamethrower. You have to listen to what she says.

One day you will need your children to take care of you; and you had better pray that on that day they do not remember the ways you failed them.

There’s no single, universal experience of existence, but human beings have this universal concept of life regardless —

#ok to reblog!#long post #ill do the rest of s1 too but this would get too long if i did #» THE NIGHTMARE LANDSCAPE OF A TWISTED WORLD. (meme.)#sentence meme #sentence starters #starter meme

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 6

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 6 - Ruin

Words: 5.9k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Mentions of war/death, kissing, a healthy dose of the ‘sharing a bed’ trope, ANGST, sexual education because who doesn’t want to read about that in fanfiction, vague description of a female medical procedure

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

A softened sigh left me, knowing it was probably time to let Poe say his piece. He’d been so silent until now that I felt compelled to hear what had been stirring inside his mind while I’d held him in quiet contempt.

“Alright. I’m listening.”

He flicked on one of the dimmed lamps next to the bed, a gentle glow illuminating the room, watching as he proceeded to carefully extricate himself from under the sheets, the soreness as a result of the rehab we’d performed today now evident in his concentrated expression.

I drew myself up into a seated position on the sofa as he made his way to sit on the small table at my front, not attempting to meet my eyes until he’d slowly placed himself down on the metal. His face was less than a meter from mine, pupils drifting upwards until finally, our stares locked.

“I’m sorry,” he declared, his words heavy. “I understand why you’re angry. I get it, okay? Years of battle after battle, fight after fight, it becomes difficult to consider those working under the First Order’s control as people. People with families, loved ones, even children. They appear as targets, there simply to be eliminated. And it’s you or them. Either you perish, or you put the rational thought into the back of your mind and fight back.”

Poe glanced down, fixated to the floor, his jaw tight. “I do think about it sometimes, the people I’ve... murdered. I’ve spent sleepless nights wondering if killing in the name of freedom was a good enough reason to send people to an early death. When you don’t see their faces it’s…. easier. You don’t see the bloodshed, the corpses. You just see the fiery explosion of their ships fading into the black void of space.”

I stayed rigid in the sofa, hands clutching the into cushions. It was difficult to hold down the simmer of anger that boiled in my stomach, since everything so far only reinforced what I felt like I’d determined hours ago. Even while my demeanour remained stormy, Poe continued.

“All I heard in my childhood was my father reminding me of the way he and my mother fought for what they believed to be right. Both of them lived and battled through a time like ours, under the thumb of a regime hungry for power, sparing no innocents in their pursuit of it.” He became lost in memory, the aura drifting around him stained with a subtle sorrow. “‘People were hurting. People were suffering. Your father and I couldn’t sit and do nothing.’ That’s what my mother had told me, a child of two, as her reasoning for joining the Alliance in their efforts to push back against what threatened all type of freedom in this galaxy. My parents offered to sacrifice their lives on the tiniest shred of hope that me, and every other being on every planet, would see peace in their lifetime.”

His eyes finally shifted back to focus on mine. They were determined, yet soft, the chocolate fibers of his irises melting together. “I just... wanted to be like her. Like them. I wanted to do what they did. I wanted them to be proud of me, to have faith that their legacy would live on after they were gone. To provide freedom and peace like they had. Even if that meant sacrificing my own life, even if that meant killing those who opposed it. I had to. I had to join the people that wanted the same thing as me.”

A growing ferocity began to radiate, his voice severe. “I witnessed so many of my fellow soldiers, my friends, die thoughtlessly at the hands of others. And I wanted them to feel the same pain that I felt. Is it hypocritical? Of course, I know that. Is it cruel? Yes, murder is rarely not. But it's in the name of protection, defiance against control from an overpowering force. Those who fight with the First Order, who take over planets and kill innocents for the sake of power, they know what they’re doing. They know the consequences, the outcome, the hold the galaxy will be strangled under if they succeed. And they do it anyway. Our cause isn’t more noble, it’s self-defence. We’re trying to protect the ones who aren’t able to fight back, and those who don’t deserve to be born into a world that will crush them into submission.”

Poe’s features turned darker, leaning in close. “I will never stop thinking about the lives I’ve taken. I will never not hold myself accountable for the sins I’ve committed. But I will also not sit and do nothing. I don’t need you to accept it, but at least try to understand. You and I want the same thing, in the end, to save as many people as possible in our short lifetime. I’m just doing the best I can to see that through.”

While I instinctively took a breath in preparation to speak, nothing came. He’d rendered me speechless.

I had no reply to give, no counterargument, no flaw to point out. His honesty floored me, raw emotion and long-felt guilt rising up for me to observe so openly. The pain behind his eyes seemed so much more acute than any of the other injuries he’d sustained, not trying to shield it from my view as he spoke.

I tried to find words, anything to articulate my forgiveness. Because I did understand. He’d made me see it, the same anguish over death that I felt. But he’d also made me realise what a coward I was.

Against the people who would kill him or control him, he fought back. While I hid myself away under the guise of selflessness.

I thought I was the hero of my story, giving up my home, my old life, for the benefit of the downtrodden people of this planet. In reality, I was a scared little girl, too gutless to push back against those I, and so many others in this galaxy, feared. And here Poe was, putting himself in harm’s way, every day, in the hopes that he could take away our fear forever.

He began to rise in front of me, taking my lack of reply as an answer in itself. He seemed despondent, his face sullen as he turned to limp back to the bed.

A different kind of fury coursed through me, fury at myself for how easily I’d judged him, at how cruelly I’d treated him.

I couldn’t let the night end this way.

I picked myself up from the sofa and quickly lunged at his wrist, pulling him to face me. He was surprised, glancing with wide eyes to where my hand had caught him, then to my face. I tried desperately to convey it there, everything I wanted to say, struggling to find my voice. Poe waited for me to speak the words I clearly had sitting on the edge of my tongue, but everything I conjured didn’t seem to be enough, the jumbled thoughts swirling incoherently in my mind, never letting me quite grasp onto them long enough to form exactly what I needed to express.

Tension filled the space between us, thick and overwhelming. I soon began outlining the lines of his face, the crease currently stuck in his brow, the curve of his nose, the contour of his jaw, the arch of his lips.

My hands found themselves catching each side of his face, pulling his mouth to mine in a desperate kiss.

I’d held it back for so long, too long, now unable to deny the burning urge to melt my lips into his. He was alarmed at first, his mouth frozen from movement as he comprehended my sudden attack.

Yet quickly he was syncing his lips fluidly with mine, a hand rising to clutch the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His casted arm curled around my waist, pressing my body into his, feeling the heat radiating off his chest.

The fire in my lower abdomen roared into bright red flames again, spreading into the rest of my body like molten lava. He tasted even better than I’d imagined, our tongues beginning to find each other through parted mouths. Fingers moved into his hair, hungrily grasping at the curled strands, causing a low moan to seep from his throat. The sound made me even more forceful in my need for his lips to be connected with mine, barely having time to breathe in-between our eager kisses.

I wanted to have him, all of him, so deeply it was painful, the searing burn lighting up in my veins.

Don’t do this Alexys. It will ruin you.

My breath hitched as I reluctantly pulled away, looking up, seeing his pupils swollen. He was cautious then, moving his hand from my neck to push a strand of hair behind my ear, almost if at any moment I would flee from his embrace.

And that’s what half of me was begging to do, the other screaming at me to lock our lips together again. I felt split into two, a cracking beginning to divide me roughly in the middle.

I could see Poe searching through my gaze, trying to assess my thoughts, whether it was safe to continue. He leaned in gradually, testing my reaction. I didn’t recoil this time. I didn’t want to.

His lips melted into mine, less insistent than before, although somehow just as intimate. Inhibitions lowered, my hands slid down to his chest, noticing the hard muscles underneath my palms and feeling the fire inside me surge. I wanted to feel the bare skin underneath, to have it pressed against my own. To explore the other parts of him covered by clothes. To forget even for a short time that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this.

Poe gently withdrew, leaning his forehead into mine. “I know.”

“Know what?”

He exhaled a long breath. “I know you don’t want to do this.”

I replaced my hands to his cheeks. “You have no idea how much I want this. How much I want you.” The truth of the words made me feel both vulnerable and safe, for the first time giving in to the yearning I’d hoped to keep locked inside my chest.

He tensed, a slight tremble in the arm that curved around my body. But his face grew sombre, almost... sad. “You don’t. Not completely. I can feel you wanting to hold back,” he murmured. “I can feel your fear.”

I swallowed hard, unable to refute him. “…I’m sorry. I want to. But I just… I can’t."

We both looked down, my confirmation making the tone of our connection shift. He was silent for what felt like a long time, and we stayed motionless in our embrace, neither wanting it to end, knowing it was inevitable that we would have to part.

“Why?” he breathed. “Why are you afraid?”

I wanted to be honest with him, like he had been for me, so much the sensation felt like it was clawing out from inside me, determined to burst through the skin. But there was a barrier there, one I had forged long ago. Unyielding and impenetrable to anything or anyone.

Although, I felt another realisation simmer to the surface of my mind, one that was not nearly as exposing, but still true.

“You’re going to leave. And I have to stay here. I don’t… I don’t want that to hurt any more than it has to.”

It seemed to hit him then, like he hadn’t let the thought enter his mind before. The awareness of our predicament shone brightly in his eyes, a light switch flickering on.

His hand moved to my cheek, grazing his thumb softly against the skin, my heart throbbing inside its cage at his light touch. I watched as eyes scanned over my face, back and forth, as if memorising the features. It was then I knew he’d come to the same conclusion.

It wouldn’t be long before we would part, most likely to never see each other again. If we went any further, if we crossed that line, the pain of saying goodbye would become so much more unbearable.

Almost simultaneously, we let our hold on each other loosen, the disappointment in the air almost palatable on my tongue. The smouldering inside had burnt out, suffocated by the gloom weighing heavy in my chest. Poe took my hand in his, his eyes pleading. “Can I ask one thing of you?’

I moved my head in a slow nod.

“Sleep in this bed with me tonight. Just sleep. I promise.” It was an earnest request, his face imploring and unguarded.

In contempt of the voice in my head bellowing at me that this was a terrible idea, I agreed. “Okay.”

Together we tentatively walked to each side of the mattress, making no rush to slip under the covers and settle into the pillows. I faced away, fearing if I looked at Poe's charming face any longer, I would surrender to the pull of desire that never seemed to relent. I didn’t know how I was ever going to be able to fall asleep like this, his body radiating an energy that vibrated into the space between us, keeping me all too aware of his presence.

There was movement, a dip in the mattress, Poe’s arms curling around my torso, pulling me close. His face buried itself into my hair, the warmth of his gradual exhale sending charged shivers down my spine. Placing my arms over his, silently accepting his embrace, I felt my heart thump a calming glow through my chest, all the way to the end of my limbs.

I’d never felt so peaceful, so whole, becoming lost in the comfort of his hold, wishing I could bask in it forever.

But reality bit at me, cold and uninvited, reminding me of the goodbye I would have to give soon enough.

We were still entangled when consciousness came again, the dim light of early sunrise leaking through my window. Poe’s arms circled around me, my body fitting perfectly into his.

He was still asleep, his face resting just at the back of my head, slow breaths bristling into my hair. I relished the feeling of it all, trying to commit it to my memory.

I stayed there, motionless, waiting for time to run out, knowing I would be chasing the feeling of this in the months, maybe years, to come. Thinking about his future absence made me terrifyingly lonely, even with his arms wrapped around now.

Eventually the seconds ticked down to my chronometer alarm buzzing, rustling Poe awake from his slumber. I assumed he would begin to move, pulling away, this one night that bonded us together finally ending. Yet he stayed as unmoving as I had been, the only indication he had awoken the increased depth of his inhale, a small tense of his muscles. I went to move, to switch the screeching sound off, but he clutched me back into his chest, squeezing tight.

As much as my heart thumped at the pressure of his hips into mine, the noise of my alarm was grating. “Let me turn it off,” I whispered. “I’ll come right back.”

Poe loosened his grip reluctantly, allowing me to reach over to the screeching machine and mute its sound. I settled back comfortably into his arms again, as he nuzzled his face into my neck, lips faintly placing a kiss on the skin.

“Poe… please… don’t…”

His sigh whistled past my neck. “Come with me, when I leave.”

It annoyed me, his fleeting demand so easily spoken. As if I could suddenly give up all that encompassed my life before he appeared, the beings that depended on me. But his voice was so sincere, so entreating in the early morning, that the irritation dashed away from the forefront of my mind.

“You know I can’t do that.”

He acknowledged my answer in the shift of his body from around me, moving himself out of the bed we had shared for the night and leaving me alone underneath the sheets.

It burned, the unprecedented disconnection of his shape from mine, my chest forming into a black hole in the realisation I might never feel him that close again.

I wanted to let my emotion to take over, to give in to the pain that rushed to me now as the finality of our night cradled together became evident. But I refused to release it, my resolve from the night before holding strong. I knew I’d made it harder by giving in to Poe's innocent plea of sharing a slumber within his embrace, but I wasn’t going to let our farewell completely ruin me.

With a forced composure, I rose from my bedside, focusing on the appointments scheduled to fill my day. Through my haze I recalled many of them being young female patients in need of birth control. I would somehow have to shut Poe away, wanting to give these women the privacy they deserved.

Poe and I appeared to use the ‘freshers at the same time, the searing heat I usually liked being showered with restrained no matter how high I pushed the temperature button. Eventually I’d readied myself for the workday ahead, deciding on a pencil skirt and lightened blue blouse tucked into the waist, working my hair into a ponytail.

It was when I’d begun making breakfast, for both myself and all the company that I kept in the clinic at the moment, that Poe emerged back into my quarters in a set of dark black hospital clothes. I glanced at him only briefly as he entered, hearing him pull out a chair, not daring to look at his face yet.

“Smells good,” he uttered, breaking the silence that existed in exemption to the sautéed chicken eggs and nuna bacon sizzling in the large pan in front of me.

“It’s almost ready,” I remarked, feeling completely the disconnection between us in his tone. Half of me was glad he accepted the separation we needed to make, the other mourning the severed bond we had formed in the connection of our bodies. But I had to let it go, whatever was left of the fragile link that survived the night.

I continued preparing the hot meal, separating the foodstuff between Poe and Vixur’s crew. Once I’d gently placed a share in front of Poe at the table, a smile meeting him fleetingly, I took the rest with me, balancing the four dishes on my hands and forearms, moving cautiously through the hallway.

With impeccable timing Vixur and his students were conversing between each other, obviously having woken just before I came to greet them.

“I’ve got breakfast for you all,” I announced, setting it down at the meeting table across from my computer. It was generally used as a place I could sit with patients and their families when giving them their diagnosis or explaining treatment plans, but today it would have to work as a secondary dining table. All four men jabbered back thankyous as they moved quickly to sit and eat, their appreciation evident in the way they gulped down the meal without hesitation. I returned to my quarters to find Poe picking lazily at his food, only a few bites eaten.

“Does it taste bad?” I asked from behind him, before circling to my seat at the table.

He looked up swiftly, as if I’d startled him. He must have been deeply lost in thought not to hear me treading down the hallway.

“It’s delicious,” he urged. “I’m just… not that hungry.”

“Are you feeling alright? Are you still sore? Are you-“

“Alex, I’m fine,” he interrupted. “You can’t fix a bad mood with any of your treatments.”

I looked at him curiously. “Bad mood?”

Did I do that to him?

“Did you not sleep well?”

He didn’t answer me right away, a subtle scowl settling in his lips. “It was actually... the most restful sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

I fought the urge to beam at him, a smile waiting to form, but the gloomy expression he wore held it down. I had to agree with him - it truly was the most comfortable rest I’d experienced in recent memory. And knowing I would never feel that peaceful, dreamless slumber in his arms again made me fully understand why he was frowning.

“Thank you so much for the meal Alex. I just... don’t have an appetite right now.” Poe rose from his seat and took his plate to clean, his sombre mood spilling into my body and taking over. Wringing his hands dry, He turned back to me. “Is it still alright if I keep using your office to continue working on BB-8?”

I nodded. “It would actually be preferable. Most of my patients today are women, and I need privacy for their appointments. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out, okay?”

Poe understood what I’d only hinted at. “Sure thing. I won’t step a foot out that room without your permission.”

A kind smile formed on his lips, but it fell as he moved from my quarters, leaving me to my breakfast, which now seemed extremely unappetizing.

“Well, Kaia, you’ve got a couple of options,” I started. It was my 5th appointment of the day, and I was starting to lose all hope in the young generation that followed mine. “You can get the implant, which lasts 5 years and protects you from pregnancy. But it can be a painful procedure, and unfortunately the implant itself is quite expensive. There are injections which last 3 months, but you’ll have to see me again in that time frame. I know that’s hard for you being from the South village. But there’s always prophylactics, which your partner has to use, every separate time you want to be intimate.”

Kaia was a 17-year-old human girl who had obviously not been taught any helpful sex education. Although, that wasn’t uncommon in these villages.

“But, like,” she began to question. “Can’t he just, like, not, um, finish in there?”

I drew in a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time I’d explained this today. “Technically yes, if he withdraws from you before that moment comes, it does lessen the chance of pregnancy. But Kaia, there’s a lot of fluid already leaking from him before then, fluid that can contain sperm. It doesn’t protect you. Not fully.”

Kaia was thoughtful, taking in my words. “But what if he doesn’t want to use the sheath?”

“Well... that’s his decision. But then you have to make yours. A decision that you’re more than allowed to make. One night could lead to either a future of motherhood or even diseases that could cause a great deal of damage to your body.”

“Ew,” Kaia recoiled. “I mean, I get what you’re saying. But Miss Jago, haven’t you ever been so swept up in the moment that you didn’t think about any of that?”

My jaw clenched, catching me off guard with her question. None of the other women had posed it to me. “It’s not been an issue for me,” I said flatly.

“Because of the birth control, right?” she surmised. “Which one do you use then?”

Oof, caught me out again.

“I don’t have the need for it. Kaia, this is not about me-”

“Wait, what?” she gasped. “But you’re so pretty?”

I soaked my voice in its professional tone. “This is your appointment Kaia, we’re not here to discuss my personal life.”

Kaia refused to comply. “But you’ve done it, right?”

I sighed, irritated. “Yes Kaia, but we took all the necessary precautions.”

“Well that doesn’t make it sound very fun,” Kaia huffed.

I tried desperately to hold back the aversion wanting to show on my face. It hadn’t been fun. It was clunky, awkward and somewhat painful. And I felt a spike of envy that this teenager already seemed to have had better experience with the opposite sex than I did.

“Look, your options are there. If I had to choose one, and I was with a partner I could trust had nothing that could spread to me, I’d go with the implant.”

She contemplated my advice, pulling her hands up to let her chin rest on them. “I think you’re right Miss Jago. But my parents would never help me pay for it.”

“That’s alright,” I replied, already knowing the home situation Kaia found herself in. She’d made the trek to my clinic alone, without her parent’s knowledge, just to see me for this single reason. I doubted they even knew she had a boyfriend. “How about I put the implant in today, and we figure out payment later?”

Kaia’s face lit up, eyes brimming with delight. “Really?”

I smiled at her and nodded.

“Thank you!” she squealed, face barely containing her excitement.

Really, this was for both her benefit and my own. I wasn’t about to face her parents when it would ultimately be me providing the news their daughter was pregnant. I didn’t want Kaia to go through that, a young pregnancy in a poor village after her parents would most likely cast her out.

“Remember I said this can be a painful procedure, and you’ll be sore for a day or two afterwards.”

Kaia nodded, understanding, yet unable to hold back her joy.

I worked my way through the process of setting her implant, my mind on autopilot while I thought more about the question Kaia innocently queried. I’d never come close to the type of desire that would have caused me to throw away all caution and rational thought. Not until-

“Hey Alex!” I heard from the other side of the curtain I’d drawn for Kaia’s discretion. “I know I said I wouldn’t come out until you said, but I’ve got something I need to show you.”

Poe’s voice was exuberant and proud, annoyingly unaware of the fact I had my hand in a very delicate place. My eyes shot to Kaia’s, her cheeks already flushing red with mortification.

“Poe!” I fumed, not hiding my anger. “I asked you to do one thing!”

I sensed his panic from behind the fabric separating us. “Kriff! Sorry!” His voice changed when he spoke next, a hurried whisper. “BB, come back here! We can’t show her yet!”

A streaming mechanical movement could be heard in my periphery, turning my head to see a shadow moving along the bottom of the curtain. I took the moment to stop what I was doing, covering Kaia with a sheet.

I was thankful I did that when the BB-8 droid slip through a break in the drape, caring little for what Poe had ordered him to do. His little head sat hovering above his balled body, for the first time actually staying in position. The photoreceptor, which looked like a singular eye, was also finally lit as he zoomed closer. While an impressed smirk started to beam as I realised Poe had managed to get his little friend working, it was rapidly overtaken by irritation at the droid’s lack of courtesy.

Poe was cursing under his breath, then apologetic. “Alex and uh, patient, I am so sorry. BB, get out of there!” BB-8 let out a few indiscernible beeps, a language I didn’t understand, although Poe seemed to. “I don’t care! They need privacy. You can see her later!” he hollered.

The droid made what sounded like a high-pitched huff as its head dropped, like it knew it had been scolded. Its head swivelled around on top it’s body and rolled away, again sliding through the break in the curtain.

“Come on, back this way.” I listened to the combination of footsteps and mechanical whirring move back into the hallway, a door eventually clicking closed. Looking apologetically back to Kaia, her face was still stunned at the intrusion.

“I am so sorry. I told him to stay put until my appointments were over. It’s okay if you want to stop for a moment,” I offered, trying to stay as calm as possible.

Kaia blinked purposefully a few times before being able to focus back to me. “No it’s okay. I’m ready.”

I admired her composure, while I remained silently boiling under the surface.

“What the hell Poe?” I snarled, barging into my office where Poe sat, seemingly interrupting a conversation he was having with BB-8. I’d clawed my anger into submission for the rest of Kaia’s appointment, but now it was ready to surge outward.

Poe stood, arms held up in surrender. “I know! I’m sorry! I didn’t think, and it was just really bad timing.” BB-8 beeped in what sounded like agreeance, rolling around from behind the office desk into my view.

“It was the worst timing!” I snapped. “That girl was 17, in a very vulnerable position, and you scared the living daylights out of her!”

“I know, and I can’t apologise enough Alex, really!” His face was pleading, brown eyes soft yet desperate. “I was just so excited about BB working again, and I wanted to show you.”

His sincerity disarmed me, my fury sizzling down, suffocated by his apology. I took a slow breath in, eyes closed, reigning it in further. “Please don’t disregard my instructions again,” I grumbled.

He nodded, as did BB-8, and my eyes focused on the droid. He was oddly cute in his appearance, his small beeps already annoyingly adorable. “Hello,” I greeted, all frustration now clean from my voice. “My name is Alexys.” I kneeled down to his eye level and he immediately wheeled directly in front of me, beeping somewhat of his own introduction.

“He said it’s nice to meet you,” Poe clarified, still hesitant at the easy change in my mood.

I looked up at him, curious. “You can understand those sounds he makes?”

“Most of it,” Poe answered. “It’s a form of Binary. Having him with me for so long helped me grow accustomed to the pitch and time changes in his beeps.”

My eyebrows rose, fascinated. “That’s so impressive.” BB-8 squealed in uneven time, his eye looking over to Poe, who almost looked bashful. “What? What did he say?”

He shot BB-8 an irritated look before meeting his eyes to mine. “It’s nothing important. His circuits are still a little fried.”

I wasn’t convinced, but then again I didn’t speak droid. "I'm glad you got him working,” I said earnestly, pleased there hadn’t been any type of casualty from his crash.

Poe sighed, relieved. “Me too. He’s the best co-pilot I’ve ever had.”

BB-8 whistled happily, evidently pleased with the praise, and its sweetness made me smile.

“Alexys?” Vixur suddenly called, his voice echoing down the hall. “Are you back there?”

I left Poe and BB-8 without a word, finding Vixur standing at the hallway entrance, his clothes smeared in dirt and dark grease. “Everything okay?”

Vixur nodded, evidently tired, still an accomplished grin filled his face. “We’re done actually. The comm-tower’s fixed.”

I wanted to smile back, to show my appreciation for his hard work, but it all became too hard to fake anymore.

This was it, the beginning of my goodbye to Poe. He would now be able to contact the Resistance, his friends, and he would soon be gone from my life just as suddenly as he arrived.

I forced the tears back as I hugged Vixur, doing all I could to hide my pain and show some kind of gratitude for the selfless work he had done.

Somehow Vixur sensed the turmoil simmering through me, patting my back softly. He pulled out of our embrace, speaking softly enough so Poe wouldn’t hear. “You needed this done for him, didn’t you?”

I nodded, the sadness hard to contain on my face. Vixur’s own expression was sympathetic as he squeezed my arm reassuringly. I didn’t need to explain anything, he just seemed to know.

“If it’s meant to be, you’ll find each other again.”

I drew in a long breath, furiously smothering the need to cry. I wanted to thank him more, for giving his time to me for little in return, but I couldn’t say the words out of fear the sudden sorrow would overwhelm me if I spoke out loud.

Vixur understood this, giving me a caring smile as he took his leave. “Well, we best be heading back to the village. I’ll see you sometime soon Alex. If I don’t, I wish you luck.”

And he was gone, the clinic door closing behind him, leaving me frozen in dread. A large part of me was reluctant to tell Poe the ‘good news’, but he’d waited long enough for his rescue from this planet.

I didn’t need to turn around to know he’d slinked out of the office to find me stuck where I stood, BB-8’s soft whirring following him.

“The comm-tower is ready, isn’t it?” Poe asked gently.

I forced myself to smile as I turned around, Poe’s expression not showing the relief I would have expected.

“Sure is,” I replied, the hint of quiver in my voice. “You can finally go home.”

I saw Poe’s lip tremble as he too attempted a smile, the disappointment in his eyes more indicative of his actual reaction to my answer.

Neither of us spoke for a long time, BB-8 looking back and forth quizzically, a few unsure beeps finally pierced in Poe’s direction. The sounds knocked us back into reality, as I moved to find the transmitter I’d stashed back into my tech station after determining its redundancy days ago.

The memories felt foreign, like they were from a different age. So little time had changed me so much, making me feel the most unstable and fragile I had felt in so long, on the verge of tipping into an overwhelming pain.

Poe had watched me in silence, unmoving. I eventually shifted the transmitter into his arms, an extremely aged, large box with an array of dusty buttons poking out of the rusted metal.

“It’s old, but it still works,” I insisted in a monotone, the emotion sucked from my voice. Poe only nodded, and gave me one last despairing glance as he turned away, carrying the machine into the study, BB-8 trailing behind him.

When the door closed, I couldn’t hold onto it any longer, the overpowering misery bursting free, its icy presence consuming me in a singular moment, the cold burn stinging as a few tears trickled down my cheeks.

What did I tell you?

The tears came faster at the sound of the voice, it’s condescension only making the suffering more excruciating.

No.

You’re wrong. I’m stronger than this.

I wiped away the errant tears defiantly, pulling myself together at the seams that had broken a few minutes ago, calming my breathing, trying to settle the trembling on inhale.

I’d made it through so much worse, pushed past crushing loneliness, fear and sadness, to make myself more resilient than I was behaving now. And I wasn’t going to let myself be caught in this vortex of emotion any longer.

I will not let this ruin me.

Next Chapter

Tag list: @tlcwrites @roanniom @foxilayde @blackberries45 @hopeamarsu @caillea @princessxkenobi @leatherboundbirate @blowthatpieceofjunk @mylifeisactuallyamess @lightsinthedistancee @paterson-blue

(Please let me know if you wanted to be added or removed!)

#poe dameron #poe dameron x original female character #kylo ren #kylo ren x original female character #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x female reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x female reader #I SWEAR KYLO IS COMING OKAY THIS IS A SLOW BURN

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originalgenshinscenarios · 3 years

Note

Aight here it comes!

So for the part two/ alternative Version which is more of a Prequel. Buckle up, this is gonna be a long request for headcanons

The god of ash and Guizhong are just really close siblings and they care for eachother, the reader is a quite powerful god while guizhong is a weak goddess. As the Archon War begins the reader wants to go to the Dark Sea, so that their people are safe and they want Guizhong to come with them.

But she refuses, she became friends with the war god Morax and wants to stay by his side and fight. The reader get's pretty mad because guizhong is about to risk everything for a babaric brute. They Argue ( this is where the song comes in that I recomended). The god of Ash says that Morax wants only the Gnosis and Liyue, Guizhong will die because of him. She can't even protect herself, she barely passes as a god. The Argument ends badly and the reader takes their followers to the Dark Sea, refusing to take part in the pointless bloodshed, even though they could win and become an Archon.

But of course Guizhong dies and when the god of ash finds out they return to Liyue and attack Morax and the Adepti. Because of how powerful the reader is they beat the war god and his adepti, blaming him for their sisters death, she died bei she stayed by him.

Getting ready to deal the finishing blow to the brute something catches the readers eye, a follower of Guizhong. Knowing that Morax is their only way of survival for their sisters followers they spare him, at least for now. Yet before they leave they make an oath.

"One day I shall return and slay you, like the Foul Beast that you are. The innocent lives that you have unjustly taken, all that you have destroyed, I will make sure that you will never do so again. Abomanation"

God of Ash anon

I reacted to this already but FUCK DUDE WHY.

Sibling of Guizhong avenging their sister's death

While you were gone you connected the dots and he knew that by this time you'd realize that it was him who killed your sister.

His motive was killing out of mercy, but you weren't aware of that part. Upon her corruption Guizhong suffered a lot and even someone like Morax couldn't stand watching it.

When you heard about the death of Rex Lapis you immediately went to Liyue to see if it was true. And you knew it was fake news the second you saw the body.

You took it as an invitation. Since he was ready to fake his death surely he was prepared to die for real.

Your reunion was something he expected. And he wasn't the type of person to escape consequences of his actions.

At first you didn't recognize him. He was gentle, calm... He was pathetic. Once a monster always a monster yet he attempted to fool you.

You couldn't see any of the adepti around him. He was alone walking away from Liyue harbor. On the fields of Guili plains... This bastard!

"Y/N, you've came to execute me. Did you not?"

You finally faced him and before you decided to strike he said "Before you do so... Have you learnt the truth? Or shall I reveal it?"

It felt like a taunt and you screamed at him asking if he enjoyed his kill. Taking out your weapon you immediately dashed towards him.

He managed to dodge your attack. And as you fought him he attempted to talk to you.

But you were deaf to his words. Hungry for revenge you continued attacking him.

Last time you managed to defeat him and a mere hesitation took away your victory. This time you won't let that happen again.

Although he did beat you pretty badly this old fool couldn't possibly match to you. Today was the day his curse of immortality would end.

Before your final strike he gave you something... It was a puzzle similar to what Guizhong used to make for you. "She said I should forget about it, but no matter how much I tried I couldn't... I know it's quite selfish of me but, would you be so kind to keep this dumbell with you?" he said as he was slowly out of breath.

Looking at it you could tell how many attempts he made to open the puzzle. It was sad but he would never know what's inside.

You took the dumbell from his hands and delt your final strike. But you did made sure he was actually dead before moving away from his corpse.

It was best for you to leave now. Even if you could defeat the Adepti, they weren't there to blame for blindly following this brute. So it's better to avoid further bloodshed.

Now that you fulfilled your promise what will you do now?

~Mod Lisa

#Guizhong #zhongli gi #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli genshin impact #Morax #Rex lapis

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retroateez · 3 years

Text

Prophecy - Chapter Nineteen

length: 2.1k

taglist: @hewwo-from-the-other-side

masterlist

San's threat sits heavily in all corners of your brain. At breakfast, chewing slowly at your buttered bread, at night, laying in bed with Wooyoung's breath tickling the back of your neck and his arm weighing across your stomach.

Even now, sat on the bench in Hongjoong's study, as you look silently up at Seonghwa, Yeosang, Jongho and Wooyoung discussing a game plan, San's words echo at the forefront of your mind.

"I'll give you a week to tell them yourself. If you don't, then I will."

There was no way in Hell you could tell Yeosang what you did. Not only what you did, but the consequences of it too. Perhaps telling Hongjoong directly would be better? He'd be more angry with you than disappointed, and you knew you couldn't handle Yeosang or Wooyoung's broken reactions to your confession.

"I think we should strike first, Sir." Seonghwa says confidently. "We get them first, they lose the element of surprise. They're unprepared, we catch them offguard, we win."

"Nah, they'll be expectin' it." The most unfamilar to you, Jongho, opposes the kingsguard in his northern twang, making Seonghwa frown.

The king himself sits in his specially carved wooden chair, his magnificent tawny fur coat hanging off the back. One leg is crossed over the other, and he leans forward on both his arms, listen intently to the men bickering before him.

"Seventeen are ruthless." Hongjoong says suddenly, silencing Wooyoung's arguments. "If I am correct, which, I always am, Jeonghan will be leading their heads of state, if not their entire armed forces, here already." He gets up and walks over to the window, perching down on the seat and staring at the kingdom below.

"Their army will be much, much bigger than ours. Probably more powerful, too."

"Sir-" Seonghwa's frown deepens as he watches his king, his best friend seemingly work himself into a downward mental spiral.

"But I''ll be damned if we don't go down without a fight. I refuse to make it easy for them." Hongjoong whips around to stare the other men down with a burning fire in his eyes. His shoulders, sharp but broad, stand brave you watch as Seonghwa nods in recognition.

This is the king he knows.

"Seonghwa, go and make sure all the soldiers are prepared, find San and Mingi and sort them out too. Yeosang, Wooyoung, please make sure all important documents you have pertaining to the prophecy are safe. Jongho, I trust the topic we discussed previously you are still happy with?"

Jongho nods, and leaves the room, the other three following suit.

Leaving Hongjoong in the room, with only you.

"Iris," Hongjoong sighs, dropping back down into his seat. "What can I help you with?"

Shakily, you stand up from the bench and sit down in one of the chairs opposite the king.

"There's something I need to tell you." You breathe, staring at your clammy hands which sit folded in your lap.

"You've been learning dark magic from a book you stole from Yunho and now you're worried that you've caused a war and people are going to die because of you?"

"I- What?" You sit frozen, completely caught off-guard by Hongjoong cutting you off with the truth.

"San told me everything."

That bastard.

"You're not mad?"

"Of course I'm mad, Iris. I would be a terrible king if I wasn't furious at you for putting my kingdom in danger."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"I'm thinking about it."

He's staring at you with an expression you can't quite read. Whatever he's feeling, it's burning, and you feel his scrutinising gaze heavy on you.

"Did you tell Yeosang?" You whisper.

"No. It is not my place to tell him, you are to do that."

"Alright. Are you going to kick me out?"

"Also no. What exactly is the point of you going behind my back, learning magic directly against my orders- dark magic at that! - and putting my entire kingdom in danger, if you don't even give us a demonstration?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to fight in this war, Iris. And you're going to fight hard."

-----

"I hope you're happy with yourself, asshole!"

You charge into the library, expecting to find San sprawled across the window seat like a cat with his sarcastic sneer smeared across his face. Instead, a cloud of crimson bounces as he whips up at the sound of your voice.

"Oh, hey Mingi. I thought you were someone else."

The tall musician beckons you to sit beside him, and you do. He wraps a comforting arm across your shoulders, an affectionate gesture that springs tears to your eyes.

"Remind me to never piss you off." He chuckles.

You laugh back, but your laugh is forced and empty, something that Mingi notices.

"What's up?" He questions you gently.

"I messed up, Mingi. I really really messed up."

"Okay, well... how are you going to fix it?"

You pause, Mingi's response taking you aback. You had expected him to be shocked, to ask you what you did, Or that he already knew and was ready to chew you out.

"Fix it?

"Yeah, fix it! You messed up, that's in the past, so the most important thing now is how you're going to fix it."

"I'm not sure."

"You'll figure it out, I'm sure."

"I'm sorry for dragging you all into this mess, Mingi." You sigh.

"Don't be sorry, Iris. This is what friends are for!"

"Pulling each other into their mess?"

"No. Helping each other fix the messes they make."

You couldn't imagine a pure soul like Mingi fighting somebody to the death. The image of him adorning a sword and plunging it into the chest of the enemy was something you couldn't fathom, his sweet nature overpowering the inevitable.

What would happen then? If Mingi got caught by the enemy?

He would die.

And it would be all your fault.

As you look up at him, peering into his soft, gentle eyes and the warm smile he gives you, as he holds you, somebody he considers a friend, you decide in that moment than you refuse to let anybody die for you.

Hongjoong was right.

What was the point of stealing Yunho's book, of practising forbidden magic, if there was going to be a war anyway?

Why stop now?

Why let the threat of pain, bloodshed and heartbreak stop you from harnessing the chaos and wielding it to save the lives of the people you loved the most?

"You're right Mingi. I'm gonna fix this, I'm gonna solve this mess I created... I-I'm gonna make this right." You stand up and hurry towards the library doors.

"Fix on!" Mingi calls from behind you.

"What?"

"Sorry I- I tried saying 'fix it' and 'go on' at the same time and I muddled it up-"

"Fix on..." You mumble. "I like it!"

"Yeah?" The bard takes a second to mull over the phrase in his head. "Yeah! Fix on, Iris!"

-----

Sprinting through the familiar streets of the lower portion of the kingdom, batting irritated Atinians aside and pushing past merchants and their stalls. You crash through a carefully tended strip of flowers, jumping over them as quickly as you can to not crush the petals under your leather shows.

But there are more pressing matters at hand, and you have only one thing on your mind.

You swing the door open, the bell ringing frantically above your head.

"Welcome to-"

"Yunho!" You pant, attempting to catch your breath. "I need your help!"

He looks at you over the counter darkly, tying a bunch of primrose flowers together with a string of twine.

"Do you remember what happened the last time you asked me for help, thief?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I stole your book, I did magic I shouldn't have done, whatever, what's more important is-"

"Whatever?" Yunho repeats, his words fuelled by pure rage. "Whatever?!" He throws the bundle of yellow down onto the counter and leans forward on the wood. "You really have no idea what you've done, do you?

"You stole my property, taught yourself dark magic despite me telling you how it ruined not only my life, but other people's, performed the dark magic against the orders of the king, which in turn has endangered the lives of everybody in the kingdom. And your response is whatever? If you want my help, Iris, you had better rethink it."

You sigh, approaching Yunho's counter, trying to ignore the fury in his hazel eyes.

"Listen, Yunho, I'm sorry, I really am. But I'm trying to make this right. I stole your book, and attempted forbidden magic because I was scared, I was scared, and I was tired of people underestimating me. I wanted people to take me seriously, and I thought the best way was... doing what I know best, taking what doesn't belong to me and working with it as best I could.

But I can see now that I was wrong, Yunho. I was so abysmally, catastrophically wrong, and now I have to live with my actions. Better, I have to fix the consequences of my actions, and to make it right, I need your help."

Yunho sighs heavily, running his calloused hands over his face in desperation.

He doesn't want to help you, not at all. Especially not after what you did last time. But he sees something in you, he feels your passion and burning desire to set things right, to earn your redemption and somehow redeem even a little bit of good faith back.

"Why should I help? Give me one good reason to trust you, Iris."

"It was technically Hongjoong's idea-"

"Was it really?"

"Yes. I might be a thief but I'm not a liar."

Yunho raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay. I'm not lying this time, I swear."

He pauses for a few seconds, simply looking at you and you can tell he's lost in thought. He pulls off his leather gloves and throws them down onto the counter with a slap.

"I'll help you.What do you want from me?"

"Hongjoong is pretty convinced there's going to be a war between Ateez and Seventeen. My punishment, I guess, is that I have to fight. So I need to be able to use the magic properly."

"Is he crazy? There's no way you'll be able to master those spells in a matter of days, It'll kill you!-"

"I don't care Yunho, people are going to die because of me, at least let me try to put things right."

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll come up to the castle later and we can start to train you, there's more space up there so you won't kill anybody... or yourself."

"Thanks, Yunho. I'll see you later."

You turn to leave the apothecary, but Yunho clearing his throat brings your attention back to the counter.

"Just so you know, I'm not doing this for you. I don't trust you. I don't particularly like you either. You put me and everyone I care about in danger for your own selfish, reckless reasons. The only reason I'm agreeing to this is because I care about the people of this kingdom, the children, the mothers, the people who work everyday to ensure Ateez is safe. That's why I'm helping you. Don't forget that."

You meet his steely gaze and finally understand the weight of your actions on the apothecary in particular. You feel every emotion pouring out of him which he's physically withholding. All Yunho wants to do is protect, and he's willing to push his personal grudges aside to do so. You nod at him once more, and leave the shop, the bell above the door tinkling gently.

You take your time getting back to the castle, making note of the children playing in the streets, the elderly traders slowly leading their cattle back to their pens, the women standing on the side of the road chatting with each other, clutching baskets full of bread and cheese and gifts for their children.

Innocent people, who probably have very little idea about what's about to happen to them.

Not if you can help it anyway.

Now that you had enlisted Yunho's help, backed up with support from Mingi, you were feeling relatively confident that you could earn Hongjoong's trust again.

But first, you had to find a certain mage and a certain elf, and confess to them everything you had been doing.

You can only hope that they would be as understanding.

Hope.

There's a lot of hope going around these days.

You pray that there's enough left for the two who matter the most to you.

#ateez #ateez au #hongjoong #seonghwa #wooyoung #san #mingi #jongho #yunho #yeosang #medieval!ateez #retroateez

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pumpacti0n · 3 years

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abolition is never “off the table”-- and we shouldn’t let anyone try to convince us otherwise.

allowing goals like abolition to get watered down and constantly misrepresented by the propagandized public, private corporations and career politicians leads to all these problems we keep hearing about on the news getting worse.

for example, we learn about instances of police violence, indigenous women going missing, the horrific prison industry, domestic & reproductive violence against women and non-men, systemic anti-blackness, families separated at hellish border facilities, seemingly endless wars and being on the brink of environmental collapse on a daily basis.

it all seems never-ending and overwhelming that no matter what good we do in our personal lives, it isn’t ever enough, because these problems will continue to manifest. somehow, it is always the same problems coming back to haunt us.

those are the consequences when attention and energy for micro problems are given priority, instead of investigating and healing the relationships people have to power, space and resources on the macro scale at the same time.

micro-scale problems are somewhat easy to package as isolated incidents for people who we believe are responsible for handling them, and they often can handle them well enough that the majority of people affected by the issue may feel placated enough to accept the authority as legitimate

these politicians and other micromanagers “solving” the problem is often used as evidence that the authorities are competent at their jobs and that issues can be solved by the system (when it wants to solve them), thus providing evidence of their legitimacy, even when it’s these same individuals and groups that are the direct causes of the problems to begin with.

beware that not being impressed or made passive by the reform logic of authorities and capitalism can be misrepresented as: “oh, you xyz group are never satisfied, you always want to save the world, but this is the real world, you’re too idealistic and your standards are too high!”

this is not an accurate portrayal, and it often isn’t meant to be. it’s meant to distract us, divide us and obscure what the problem is.

very simply, if the direct cause of a problem is not addressed, the problem is not going to be solved.

everything else is a surface-level approach that will allow the root of the problem to continue to endlessly self-reproduce the same harmful structure and power dynamics, but in different forms.

the best way to illustrate this is to picture the structure we live under (capitalism) as a living structure, like a tree. all living structures move, transform, grow and adapt given any and all external and internal forces that affect it, no matter what scale we observe it at -- either microscopically or as part of a larger surrounding ecosystem.

you’ll hear people say that radicalism is “grasping at the root” of a problem -- which is precisely what we must do if we have any hope at addressing any problem(s) that any structure provides us with.

the goal isn’t to eliminate all possibilities of conflict, or to be so bold as to think we can perfectly meet the needs of every single person affected negatively by something. not even capitalism which boasts as being this hyper-efficient, almighty, all-powerful system can do that, even on its best day.

the people who are intimately aware of the intricacies of this system are always found at the center, at the “grassroots” level of where the structure forms its base. without a base, without grounding, without roots, the rest of the structure cannot form, spread out or replenish itself when damaged or “reformed”. so that is where we must start; with the people, communities and land that is primarily affected.

rather than manage these groups by trying to decide what their needs are for them, or what actions must be done to meet their needs, they should be empowered to decide for themselves how to best maneuver and achieve those needs, while providing necessary aid when we can, and expanding the options for possible solutions when we can.

if something affects us negatively, there is a chance it affects others, too, and it follows that it’s in our mutual interest to work together to achieve a future where both our needs are met and that we can live healthy and fulfilling lives, together.

according to the janky ass reform logic of capitalism, this is an unnecessary and dangerous approach, because it does away the authority of the people who just say that they represent us and say that they’ll take responsibility for a problem -- the same people whose jobs hinge on appearing as if they care, with platforms, talking points, photo-ops and co-signs from other politicians and high ranking members of the public to offer “proof”.

they often use the logic that says that we must preserve this system, because it is sacred and perfect, that it would interrupt business, so we can’t empower people to make these decisions, even if it means that some people have to suffer and die because the system is inefficient and does not represent them, or demands that they experience social death.

we should not be impressed by these people. in fact, if they are standing in the way between these grassroots efforts, either by preventing these programs from assembling or actively attacking them politically, then they are enemies. when you become an enemy of the people you claim to represent, you are a tyrant and an opp.

and we do smoke opps.

at every grassroots level, there are groups of people who are very sensitive to the changes that happen at all the other levels of the living structure that oppresses them. from this perspective, they can experience for themselves the effects of the things that happen above the surface, and they experience the dissonance personally when another politician promises to change something, only to eventually fall short or make the problem even worse.

they get news that claims that a problem is (going to be, maybe, eventually) fixed, are present as media moves on to the next sensational story only to experience the problems same thing again, and again.

just because the cameras are turned away, because the tweets stopped getting traction, doesn’t mean that the people and communities have disappeared. and yet, no matter what, this is a cycle that continues.

the only answer, the only consistent thing that has been proven to make a difference, is there being a complete break with the logic of this system. as long as we follow the capitalist logic, the same structure will replicate. as mentioned, the roots will create new stems, leaves, seeds and thorns if left undisturbed. we’ll continue to see new iterations of the same problems as long as the logic, the roots, are left intact.

there’s no hope of creating new structures in the the place of one that’s taking up room at the same space, so the old system must be uprooted.

its this uprooting that some call a “revolution”.

this word might seem scary to a lot of folks for a lot of different reasons. it has way less to do with the chaos and bloodshed that's associated with it in our imaginations.

it has more to do with deeply investigating the roots of a problem and actually addressing them by changing the conditions -- something that capitalism refuses to do unless there is a profit motive, or only if the problem interferes with the flow of capital to private interests. the only way this chaos and violence would occur is if (and some would insist when,) these forces mobilize to preserve the same harmful system we’re attempting to uproot in the interest of private accumulation of profit.

should we just allow these corporations and wealthy individuals stop us from changing the things that affect the quality of our lives? the wealthy capitalists would say “why yes, of course you should!” but obviously they would say that -- and we have been given no reason to believe them.

we should each of us be prepared to deal with this violence in some way. to insist otherwise is naive and not realistic, and actually harmful to the communities that encounter this violence. this may look like armed patrols and free firearms & training for the most vulnerable communities, or creating an alternative directory that people may access instead of calling the police. these matters are up to the communities themselves to envision and implement.

we aren’t suggesting that we seek out violence where it’s reasonable to avoid it, or escalate problems beyond our management of them. this isn’t meant to encourage people to fulfill revenge fantasies for the hell of it, but to be prepared in case such conflicts occur.

the aforementioned unorganized violent activities are, at best, a strategy to cope with and purge the unending stress of life under capitalism or distract the state and similar private forces in combat while other solutions are being explored. we shouldn’t fall for the strategy of turning rioters, saboteurs, arsonists, vandals and looters into enemies of the people, when they are the people...and we shouldn’t dismiss these strategies as being harmful by definition when it is often only insured property that is the target of their actions, not individuals.

we shouldn’t disparage rioters for causing damage to this system, when capitalism has been damaging the world and our communities for as long as it has existed on this planet. both violent and non-violent methods of “grasping at the root” are legitimate, can coexist and inform each other, and are necessary to combat the terror capitalism’s logic has inflicted on us all.

remember that revolutions are only as peaceful as they are allowed to be.

the process of uprooting, of revolutionizing, may indeed be violent in nature when resistance is offered, but that shouldn’t stop us from continuing the process if it is necessary. just because a dangerous system is difficult to uproot doesn’t mean that it’s more reasonable or desirable to leave it alone to establish its roots and adapt.

we must acknowledge that multiple attempts may be necessary before any transformation takes place, possibly over the course of several years, perhaps lifetimes. it might require lots of planning. however, in the interest of conserving time and energy, the most simple and direct methods of applying pressure and healing should be prioritized. we do not want to resemble, in practice or theory, the politicians we hope to depose -- by making promises we don't intend to keep, making plans that never pan out, putting off immediate solutions until we personally benefit at the expense of others.

for example, this means that rather than coming up with overly-complicated, difficult-to-achieve long-term plans of gradually moving a low-income family out of a house infested with mold, they’d be moved immediately into safe housing if such housing is ample and available. this means that, rather than waiting on the state to decide how much food a hungry person needs or should have access to, we supply them with the food if it is abundant and we have it to spare.

if the needs people and communities have are immediate, the solution should also be immediate, whenever possible. the means are the ends.

this is because people need aid now, not in the future, not when the moment is perfect and some sort of irrelevant criteria is met, not when it’s more profitable to do so, but in the present. representatives and authorities have gotten really proficient at promising to solve issues in some far-off future they’re never be around to guarantee, abstracting issues and people so that they’re seen as insignificant to greater issues. how often have you heard: “we would like to do something about xyz, we just don’t have the time (money)”?

when these so-called “representatives” package all of these lies, and the time comes to prove their worth and legitimacy, there is often no reconciliation process that any of them must go through so that they’re held accountable for straight up lying and abusing the responsibility they had to the people. this is so often why our issues aren’t solved -- we started by trusting those that aren’t even affected by the problems we face to have our best interests in mind.

that is why we say enough electoralism -- enough elections -- enough career politicians -- enough bipartisanship -- enough government -- enough hollow campaign promises -- enough “lesser of two evils” -- enough “vote blue no matter who -- enough pitting poor communities against each other -- enough celebrity & corporate “activism” -- enough self-aggrandizing authorities -- enough micromanagers -- enough permanent elected positions

yes to community control -- yes to autonomous communities -- yes to free associations -- yes to reconciliatory organizations -- yes to federations of workers and professionals -- yes to voluntary work -- yes to open borders and travel -- yes to direct democracy and direct engagement with relevant issues -- yes to immediately recallable, voluntarily chosen delegates -- yes to grassroots organizing -- yes to self-defense and community-informed reactions to crime -- yes to direct action, mutual aid and solidarity for mutual survival -- yes to returning land and resources to indigenous and black communities -- yes to yielding space and resources to historically harmed communities on the margins (LGBT+, disabled, refugees & migrants, prisoners, non-human animals) -- yes to liberation for all!!!

#abolition #revolution #capitalism #reform #elections #politicians #long post #write-up

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 4 years

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She-who-fights-and-writes Coronacation Book Rec List

I know that a lot of people are stuck at home right now in dire need of entertainment, so I decided I’d put out a book recommendations list of all the books I’m currently reading and all of my must-reads!

(Just a note that a lot of these are Fantasy because I’m a fantasy nerd haha)

Books/Series I am currently reading

1. The Folk of the Air Trilogy by Holly Black (Currently on #2, The Wicked King)

Genre: High Fantasy

Setting: The land of Faerie which is kind of historical, but in the human world it is modern day

Main cast :

Jude Duarte (white, human, cutthroat, if I saw her in a Denny’s Parking Lot at 3am I would RUN)

Cardan Greenbriar (white, faerie, the true embodiment of Bastard)

Vivienne (Jude’s half-sister, lesbian with canon gf, half-human half-faerie, I would totally try to be her friend)

Taryn Duarte (Jude’s twin sister, queen doormat, still, I would take a bullet for her she’s jUST TRYING TO FIT IN)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

These books have been on my “To Read” list for so long now and for some reason I just never got around to reading them! Hands-down, these are some of the best high fantasy books that I’ve read in a long, long while.

I finished the first book, The Cruel Prince, in just two days and rated it 5/5 stars! Even though these books are high fantasy and focus on the traditions and ways of life of faeries, somehow all of the characters seem like I could meet them in real life!

The main character actually has genuine flaws and not just “””“flaws”””” and is a Bad Bitch down with murder, and the plot had me on the edge of my seat from page one!

The summary makes it sound like it’s going to be about their romance, but it’s really mostly about a power struggle and Jude being a badass.

Goodreads summary for The Cruel Prince:

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

2. The Raven Cycle Series by Maggie Stiefvater (Currently on #1, The Raven Boys)

Genre: Present-Day/Realistic Fantasy (?)

Setting: The fictional town of Henrietta, Virginia

I haven’t gotten around to much of the book, so there’s not much I can tell you about the characters and I can’t properly give it a rating yet.

These books were also on my “To Read” list for a while; I was a huge fan of her book The Scorpio Races and have also been looking for something to quench my thirst for “private school/ghosts/magic” that I’ve been dealing with ever since I read The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo.

I’ve only JUST started The Raven Cycle yesterday, but so far I am hooked! I’m super worried because I’m TERRIBLE at juggling two series at a time but both of these are just so interesting!

Goodreads Summary for The Raven Boys:

“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.” It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive. Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her. His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble. But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little. For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.

MY MUST-READ BOOK LIST

1. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Genre: Historical Fiction

Setting: 1700s Europe (England, Paris, Barcelona, Marseilles, Venice)

Main cast (I’ll try my best not to spoil anything because you find out a LOT of different stuff about these characters throughout the book):

Henry “Monty” Montague (white, bi/pansexual, attitude problem)

Percy Newton (mixed race, gay, very sweet boy, definitely got “most likely to bring home to mom” in the yearbook)

Felicity Montague (white, Monty’s little sister, headcanoned as asexual, I love her to death)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Daring adventure, gay representation, historical setting, hilarious characters!

This book literally has it all! I would consider it one of my favorite books of all time, yet for some reason I’ve never gotten around to reading any of the sequel books! The ending is very satisfying and ties everything together, which I feel is part of the reason why I haven’t gotten around to them yet.

Therefore, it can serve as a one-shot read or a full series if you want to dive into something good!

The humor made me laugh out loud at points and all of the characters are very real and very, very relatable, not to mention the vivid settings of 1700s Europe!

Goodreads summary:

Henry “Monty” Montague was born and bred to be a gentleman, but he was never one to be tamed. The finest boarding schools in England and the constant disapproval of his father haven’t been able to curb any of his roguish passions—not for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men. But as Monty embarks on his Grand Tour of Europe, his quest for a life filled with pleasure and vice is in danger of coming to an end. Not only does his father expect him to take over the family’s estate upon his return, but Monty is also nursing an impossible crush on his best friend and traveling companion, Percy. Still it isn’t in Monty’s nature to give up. Even with his younger sister, Felicity, in tow, he vows to make this yearlong escapade one last hedonistic hurrah and flirt with Percy from Paris to Rome. But when one of Monty’s reckless decisions turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt that spans across Europe, it calls into question everything he knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores.

2. The Ninth House By Leigh Bardugo

Genre: Horror, Fantasy

Setting: Yale University and the town of New Haven, Present Day

Main cast:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern (Hispanic, sees dead people, very scary)

Daniel Arlington “Darlington” (white, rich, an angel who can sometimes be a dick)

Pamela Dawes (tbh I honestly don’t remember what she looks like, only that she’s a tired grad student with big nerd energy)

Detective Alan Turner (Black, takes shit from nobody, husband material)

Rating: 4/5 Stars

(NOTE: THIS IS VERY DARK ADULT FICTION AND CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME PEOPLE, WOULD NOT RECOMMEND FOR PEOPLE UNDER 16)

This book is a great read for someone who’s looking for a disturbing, gritty book with layers upon layers of secrets that you have to peel away as the mystery unfolds. I love the secret societies and the intricate magic systems that the book introduces, and it actually made me hungry for more books like it!

Alex is a three-dimensional, very real character who also serves as an unreliable narrator who witholds or warps the information that she’s telling you, making the narrative all the more riveting.

The only issues that I have with it are the fact that Leigh Bardugo kind of just dumps you in the middle of it without explaining stuff first, to the point where it kind of feels like you’re reading the second installment of a series rather than the first one, so things can get a bit confusing at first.

The book also can drag and draw things out for a bit too long, but once the plot fully kicks into gear, you will not be able to put it down!

Goodreads summary:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. Raised in the Los Angeles hinterlands by a hippie mom, Alex dropped out of school early and into a world of shady drug dealer boyfriends, dead-end jobs, and much, much worse. By age twenty, in fact, she is the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved multiple homicide. Some might say she’s thrown her life away. But at her hospital bed, Alex is offered a second chance: to attend one of the world’s most elite universities on a full ride. What’s the catch, and why her? Still searching for answers to this herself, Alex arrives in New Haven tasked by her mysterious benefactors with monitoring the activities of Yale’s secret societies. These eight windowless “tombs” are well-known to be haunts of the future rich and powerful, from high-ranking politicos to Wall Street and Hollywood’s biggest players. But their occult activities are revealed to be more sinister and more extraordinary than any paranoid imagination might conceive.

3. The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Genre: Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Setting: Earth, Space, The Moon

Main cast :

Linh Cinder (Chinese, based on Cinderella, cyborg, certified badass)

Scarlet Benoit (French, based on Little Red Riding Hood, farmer who is not afraid to shoot you)

Cress Darnel (White, based on Rapunzel, nerd, I will protect her with my life if I have to)

Kaito “Kai” (Chinese, based on Prince Charming, kind of has to run a whole country, a very kind soul, deserves a nap)

Carswell Thorne (White, based off of Rapunzel’s Prince, bastard)

Winter Hayle (Black, based off of Snow White, royalty, has super special powers)

Wolf (Race unspecified, based off of the Big Bad Wolf, charming killing machine, furry????)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Do you like fairy tales?

Have you ever wanted to know what fairy tales would be like if they took place in the FUTURE instead of the PAST?

Do you like an amazing, hilarious cast paired with a super interesting plot?

These are the books for you!

I haven’t read them in so long, but I remember how much joy I felt while devouring these pages. Definitely something you will not able to put down!

Goodreads Summary for Book #1: Cinder:

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future.

4. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Genre: Fantasy

Setting: Ancient Greece

Main cast:

Patroclus (Greek, Gay, quiet pining)

Achilles (Greek, gay, very strong, student athlete energy)

Brisies (Anatolian, clever, literally the only one in this story who has a brain cell)

Rating: 100000/5 stars

This is basically the Iliad but if historians hadn’t completely erased Patroclus and Achilles’ relationship. “Haha yeah these guys were totally bros” they say, even though I have read the Iliad and their relationship isn’t even subtle.

This book made me cry at least ten times. It’s just so beautifully written and has such a distinct vibe to it that whenever I crack it open for another time, it takes me straight back to the vacation that I read it on. (Needless to say, sobbing your eyes out can be less than helpful when you’re on the beach)

If you can only read one book on this list, it should be this one. I could talk all day about it and write novels on just how much of an incredible writer Madeline Miller is, but I feel like you’d get my drift a bit better if you actually read the book.

Goodreads Summary:

Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear. Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.

Hope this list helps you through your coronacation, and please don’t be afraid to reblog or message me to tell me if you’ve read/will read any of these!

#books #book recs #book rec #book reccomendation #book reccomendations #coronacation #corona #coronavirus #covid-19 #book rec list

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elencelebrindal · 4 years

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Question if all of Saint Seiya took place on Real Life? What would be the consequences of the heroes and Villians? And how the public would respond to them?

Buckle up, this is a long answer. I wrote this with a terrible neck pain and slight headache though, so I apologize for eventual mistakes (grammar, form, whatever) I made.

Right off the bat, I can tell you: the public would not be pleased with it. Realistically speaking, who would ever want people capable of flicking their finger and cause a nuclear-like explosion living next door? Let’s see this in perspective. The most (physically) powerful bomb ever recorded, the Tsar Bomba, was so strong it was able to reach a distance up to 900 km (obviously that distance only partially broke some glass or windows, not really destroyed anything). And this is among the most powerful man-made artifacts. A Saint could easily surpass that level of power. There’s Saints that have a cosmo so strong it could easily destroy a star. A star. Put three of them together, now. They are capable of unleashing as much power as the Big Bang. Imagine what would happen to the entire freaking universe (or something along those lines) if that technique goes wrong. Imagine what a Saint could do if they suddenly go crazy and want to destroy humanity, or the entire planet. They could easily do that.

And now, count how many of these warriors are out there. Count how many of them could pull off a mass-destruction strike with ease.

Take into consideration all the natural disasters that happen when deities get angry. Take into consideration all the Holy Wars against Hades, and the absolute destruction the planet endures every time there’s a battle between these warriors. And if you don’t want to look at the more “physical” state of things, take a look at how the Saints train. Those are children that are thrown onto the battlefield to learn how to live just so they can die in battle once they’re older. Think about all the whiplash something like this could cause if the public gets to know it. Gets to know their training places or their training regimes.

Not only that, to an outsider eye the society of these warriors could appear as incredibly violent and oppressive. If they don’t know what’s going on, why those rules are there and why they need to be applied like that, people will be angry about it. Maybe a small amount of people, but there’s still going to be problems surfacing here and there. Let’s not forget: killing is normal for them. Saints, Marina, Specters, there’s not a single one of this armies that thinks killing is inherently wrong. Bloodshed is so normal for them that no one outside their society can understand what the hell is going on in their minds. Sure, there’s the odd one every now and then (Shun is a perfect example), but it’s not like they’re saying “I’m against it, so I’m not doing it”. They’re still doing it, but with much more resentment. And, this is probably one of the most itchy spots of the system, talking about how the Saints tackle the fact they have women in their lines there is going to be so much anger. I can already hear the protests against the mandatory masks (ironic as of now, I know) for women. There’s not enough understanding to be able to avoid that kind of problems. Sure, you might say “but it’s always been like that, so the public should’t react so badly”, but here’s the thing: people don’t care about history and traditions if they don’t understand it. And yeah, the entire mask ordeal might or might not seem right, but civilians are not going to get the reasoning behind it. It’s the same thing that happens in real life, with people assuming left and right, people straight up offending or not caring, and just a few good human beings taking their time to learn.

In a perfect imaginary world, where Saint Seiya exists with all its fair share of heroes and villains, everything would go like in the anime. People just excited to watch them fight, not really caring about the consequences. In a real world, however, this is never going to happen.

On a more complex level, think about all the politic stuff that’s going to happen. You want Athena being the head of your independent land? Sure, but there’s a ton of responsibilities coming with that. And if Athena happens to also be the head of a very influential and large company, things get even more difficult to manage. Just try to imagine the unending chaos Poseidon must have caused when he took control of Julian’s body and left everything to go underwater. Imagine the sheer terror people feel every time there’s a flood, or an earthquake, or an explosion, because they never know if that’s natural or not. Imagine how traumatic is for someone who lives right next to the place where these warriors fight continuous battles, all the shockwaves coming to their door. Because yes, there’s going to be actual consequences to those battles. Animation is fun because there’s no need to show what a Galaxian Explosion would actually do to the Gemini Saint’s surroundings, but real life? Yeah, that’s a detonation of pure physical and cosmic power, there’s no way people are not experiencing it even kilometres away. And that’s probably the lamest example I could find.

Think about some villain choosing to destroy a city. How many people would die, there? How many people would be forced to watch, helpless, as they hope for someone to come and save them? And when that help comes, what’s going to do if not destroy everything even more? Damage is damage, whether it’s a hero or a villain causing it. Lives are going to be ended and/or ruined in those fights. And those fights happen again and again, because the story always repeats itself. Shiryu’s horrified reaction at Deathmask’s carelessness would be the reaction of every single person that witnesses or hears about the sheer amount of destruction and loss that would be recorded at the end. Emotional and physical scarring don’t go away easily.

We can also go a little bit the psychological route, here. Would you actively trust to live on the same planet as someone who’s able to raise a single finger and kill you? No weapons needed. Would you actively feel safe knowing there’s people around you that can move at the speed of light, able to literally rip you to shreds with ease or just do anything they want because nothing can stop them? What do you have? Only the reassurance that all those people are good and fight for humanity. Nothing else. You just have to believe those insanely strong warriors are not going to kill you just because they can. That they are not going to take advantage of their abilities. People don’t work like that.

I, myself, don’t work like that. If I knew that in this moment, on this planet, there’s someone out there capable of pointing their finger at me and kill me, I would not simply trust them to be good. Moreover, there’s history of good guys betraying to become bad guys. An amazing warranty, I’d say.

The consequences of these heroes and villains existing in real life would be absolutely catastrophic. No one wants to live in constant fear of some deity getting bored and deciding to start a war. No one wants to live knowing disaster is always around the corner. Humanity already fears itself, there’s no need to make it worse.

Would you trust a Saint that’s able to freeze you in a block of eternal ice, or another one that’s capable of raising his hand and using it like a sword? Would you trust someone that could send you to another dimension? Someone able to shatter the ground with a simple punch? No one’s going to fully feel safe around people having so much power. Laws and prohibitions? Those are nothing to a person that could kill you by snapping their fingers. The governments of the entire world trying to keep them in check would be nothing but a fly under a giant electrified fly-swatter. Said governments would also be trying to reason literal gods. Can you imagine sitting down at a table and being presented with a god? A god you have to convince to keep their warriors under control? To be at peace with the rest of the world? Yeah, me neither.

In short, at least in my opinion, realistic fiction is the closest thing you can have without causing mayhem.

#saint seiya #i cavalieri dello zodiaco #los caballeros del zodiaco #os cavaleiros do zodiaco #ask me anything #saint seiya in real life is NOT a good idea

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vikingsarememes · 4 years

Text

His True Wife

previous part ↭ part eleven ↭ next part

Main Characters: Ivar the boneless, Reader.

Characters Mentioned: Freydis, Ubbe Ragnarsson, Bjorn Ironside, Sigurd Snake in the eyes, Original Characters.

Summary: After two months everything changed, and secrets were revealed, now you’re left to make a decision and suffer the consequences.

Word Count: 1775

A/N: none

warnings: none

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The past two months is when you realized, your heaven was a hell, you were now five months pregnant, but your husband, he was rather different, the realization of him being stuck in the farm drove him insane, he’d get angry for no reason, he’d wake up in the middle of the night cursing and screaming, nothing made him happy anymore, that smile of his was gone, his voice was changed, his sweet guy act was terminated, and you were left with an angry man, a man who had everything taken away from him, his pain was constant, and sometimes the herbs couldn’t help, you didn’t mind though, staying up with him, looking after him, what bothered you is how he’d treat you after, so cold and he’d push you away.

More plants started dying, it now worried you, it never happened before and with all of your attempts to rescue them, you’d end up at the same point, men with strange hats would visit Ivar some night, they’d speak in tongues you didn’t understand, but you kept Bjorn informed.

“Lady Y/N, prince Ivar is requesting your presence” Thoman declared, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion “he caught Elizabeth” he whispered, you gulped and looked at him “I fear it’s time Thoman, I fear it’s my time” you whispered back, patted his shoulder then headed back to the inside of the hut, your husband stood with the stranger who wore a weird hat and your slave Elizabeth that was reporting your news to Bjorn, she was on the ground, blood running from her mouth, her body was bruised, you never treated your people like that! the man picked her by the hair, the woman didn’t scream or fight, she looked at you straight in the eyes, as if she knew her end was near as if she was telling you it’s alright.

You rushed to her but your husband glared at you, making you stop at your spot “Ivar! What’s the meaning of this?” you demanded, looking at him horrified, you’ve never seen him like this before, the anger was the least your fear, no, the man you are standing in front was no man any more, he was the monster everyone warned you of “you don’t know? Your little slave woman was a little birdie to Bjorn, she reported to him all of my moves, my men caught her the other day, didn’t you know about it love?” you shook your head, lying but hoped he’d buy it.

The man punched her in the stomach and she fell on the ground, curled into herself “I told you, Bjorn and I were having an affair! It has nothing to do with you!” she insisted, blood coming out of her mouth, she got a kick this time, making her wince in pain “Ivar! For the love of gods leave her alone!” you exclaimed, you knelt next to her protectively “you see, it’s either her or you… and you have my child Y/N, which makes you untouchable until you give birth at least” he said so calmly, you looked at him horrified.

“Did you not think I’ll know? You went behind my back, told my brothers about everything I’ve done? I’m trying to make you a queen! Queen of Kattegat! Why would you not understand?” even though he didn’t scream or yell, you knew how furious he was, you prayed the gods to send him back to his senses before he does anything he might regret later, even though you doubted if this man has any regrets at this point, you held your belly protectively and stood in front of him.

“I don’t wish to be your queen Ivar! All I ever wanted was to be your love! And the mother of your children, I don’t want bloodshed! If you continue seeking power, you will die! Do you wish to be dead? Your brothers will not tolerate your actions! The people won’t allow you to rule them! And if by a miracle you succeeded King Harald will come after you! Can’t you see the consequences of your actions? Where they’ll lead you… please Ivar, put an end to this, let’s go back to the way things were, my love, I beg you to stop, to live for me, for our child”

“Well, it’s a little too late for this now wife, the plan will go as intended, you are either with me or against me” he threatened “you lied! You never returned for me, you returned for your imaginary throne! You used me, and I’m the fool for believing you… I wish nothing to do with your quest to seek death, Ivar, I want you gone if that’s the path you’re choosing”

“Here’s the problem, you can’t kick me out, you see… your land it’s not yours anymore, it belongs to King Igor and his men, and by the morning, they’ll be here, but for now, enjoy your obligatory stay in this hut” the man took Elizabeth out of the hut, you knew she was dead, not yet, but in few minutes, while your husband, he smiled at you as the door was locked from the outside “Ivar!” you pleaded, “no! You were supposed to love me! I always thought no matter where I go, I’d have a place in your heart, but you betrayed me, wife! They turned you against me! I had a vision for us, so pure, we were happy! I loved you! I truly did” he spoke as if he was genuinely disappointed with your decision, he spoke as if he lost you forever.

“you never did Ivar, you only used me for your benefit, you only loved me when you wanted to love me, for you, I stood against the people, I fought for you, I begged for you to be forgiven, I lost so much, but you wanted me by your side as long as I play by your terms”

“I’m destined to live a life of misery and loneliness, you were wrong Y/N, it’s not Freydis who’s cursed by Loki, it’s me, whoever I love ends up turning on me”

“I never turned on you, I only wanted you, but I was never enough for you and I never will be”

You sighed and turned your back on him, laying on the bed, crying even, you are an idiot, you’ve been warned, thousands of times, by his brothers, by the people, even your land tried to tell you, but you were blinded by your own foolishness, Ivar’s not redeemable, yes, you still love him, but you wondered if that meant anything now, Bjorn, Ubbe, Sigurd, you’ve been angry at them for so long, but they never treated you wrong, you only disliked them for what they did to Ivar, and Freydis, you hated her but what if she only wanted to friend you so you’d save her? Now you’ll face the same fate as her, once your child’s born, Ivar will get rid of you, and he’ll hurt your child as well, you can’t let that happen.

“I wish to take a bath” you announced out of the sudden “a bath?” Ivar furrowed his eyebrows at you “yes a bath! I’m pregnant, in case you forgot, all of this stress is bad for the child, I wish to take a bath to calm down” Ivar nodded “it’s a good idea, perhaps a bath will send you back to your senses” you faked a smile, your slaves were allowed in to prepare the bath in the washroom, once they were done you were called “may I join you?” Ivar asked you shook your head no.

“I can’t stand looking at you right now, I wish to have space from you” you rushed to the room and closed the door in his face, taking a deep breath, Ivar slammed his hand on the door, he hated this, you knew he hated feeling ignored, but his feelings didn’t matter now, now that you saw the side that he’s been hiding for so long.

“My lady, do you want help getting undressed?” one of the slaves asked, you shook your head no “yes please” you walked to one of the walls, that was hidden behind boxes and fabrics, a visible door used to be there, you hid it, part of you knew you’d need an escape one day, the slaves helped you remove the things from it “please light up that candle I brought the other day,” you said, faking the role, “yes my lady” once it was open, you smuggled your slaves out, then yourself “go, take everyone away, you’re all free” you whispered and walked out quickly to the stable.

The stable was far away from the hut, and Ivar had only a few men currently, and they were busy guarding the windows and the doors, you ran, your arm around your belly protectively, you felt the cold breezes into your bones, it was freezing, and you didn’t have your cloak, you entered the stable and found a man, one of Ivar’s men, he mumbled something you didn’t understand but you were frightened, with every step that he took closer, you took one further until you reached the wall, he smirked so wickedly, his hand caressed your cheek.

You closed your eyes, accepting your fate, waiting for the man to do what he wanted to do, and waited some more, nothing happened, when you opened your eyes, Thoman looked at you “We don’t have time! Everyone was smuggled away by the sea, you must go now! I’ll distract them, go to Kattegat my lady, they’ll be expecting you” you hugged him and nodded, he helped you on your horse, you haven’t ridden a horse since a very long time, he handed you a dagger “take this, don’t be afraid of using it” he instructed.

“Thoman, why aren’t you on your horse? Come on let’s go!” you frowned, “my lady, I lived well and beyond my time, I hear my god calling for me, I’ll be alright, I promise” he smiled, putting his cloak on you “Thoman no… please join me, we can make it together” you shook your head, he took your hand and kissed it “my sweet heathen lady, I was honored to serve you, don’t mourn me, I lived well and I will die a warrior, go, survive! Don’t look back”

he slapped your horse and caused it to run, your eyes were filled with tears as you mourn your loss, you rode to Kattegat, this is all your fault for trusting Ivar in the first place.

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Tags: (let me know if you want to be tagged for this story) @youbloodymadgenius @lol-haha-joke @i-am-a-teenage-dirtbaggg @gearhead66 @joebob15274 @supernaturalvikingwhore @xbiekesx @yg0angelittaa

Images source: stolen from google images.

#vikings #ivar vikings #vikings fanfiction #ivar #ivar the god #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #reader #bjorn ironside #ubbe ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #his true wife fic #ragnarssons #prince igor #ivar's russian army #kattegat #fanfic

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