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#to me it has more the essence of a misunderstanding
baronessblixen · 2 years
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The problem nowadays with fandom is that people on the internet act too familiar with people they don’t know. They feel like they can be rude or chat anyway with someone they have no knowledge of. It’s so annoying. A while back, I saw someone added a tag to a post (it was a post that was written like a Reddit post, like Am I the asshole or something like that) and the original person who posted it screenshot their tags and berated them because they didn’t agree with what was clearly supposed to be a joke. I saw that the person who got yelled at was so upset about it, and thankfully someone else said something to the poster about how they were, but of course that person refused to acknowledge how they were acting and blamed it on being autistic or something for being rude… even when told that it was wrong, the person refused to just apologize. I wish I had said something when I saw it because that person is always treating others poorly and of course they’re popular. If we all started directly confronting people who treat others nasty, maybe people would stop. So I’m sorry that an author went and deleted their work because of rude comments but sadly, unless we are vocal about not allowing it, it’s just going to keep happening. Sending love to that author.
The way I understand it, it wasn't just rude comments. There were threats against the author's family. This didn't just happen once, it happened repeatedly.
I'm not sure what you mean with being too familiar with someone on the internet. Aren't we all more or less strangers here? Should people no longer comment or leave tags because they don't know op? I'm confused by that.
I'm also not sure it's our - as in you and me - business to discuss what happened between two other people. I wish there hadn't been a callout post and instead a conversation between the two people involved. Maybe ask what the person meant, for example.
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You don't know me —Pablo Gavi
summary: you get drunk and Gavi has to take you home but you hate each other (mostly you)
warnings: yes. alcohol consumption, bad words, enemies to lovers.
words count: +2k.
#SEXYNOTE: English is not my first language so i apologize for any spelling errors or misunderstandings.
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The music blared in your ears as you continued to dance with your friends. The alcohol in your blood was responsible for your happiness and maybe you had had enough but you felt so good. It was like one of those days where you didn't care about anything but enjoying your youth, so you just enjoyed yourself. You had missed coming to dance and have fun with your friends.
The dance floor was a little small for you. You couldn't stop moving as your friends moved around you and laughed happily, dancing and drinking.
"I think it's time to go home" you heard your friend say.
"Nooooooo" you groaned as Fermin grabbed you below the waist, helping you walk.
"We need more of this" you squealed raising your glass in the air.
Lately these days you had been feeling stressed and a little sad. Exams were on the doorstep and you couldn't miss them and you were working in the evenings to support yourself. So you were coming home late in the day with a broken and tired head. So you didn't have much time to go out with friends or go dancing, you just came home to rest and go back to class in a loop.
"You'll thank me tomorrow" he said taking your bag from the table. Your other friends complained and you had to say goodbye to them even though you didn't want to leave.
Fermin, who was in charge of driving you home tonight, helped you walk back to the VIP table of the guys, who were drinking and laughing while watching the others. Buh boring. Fermin was one of your best friends since childhood, since you used to go to the same school and then upon graduation you went to the same university. Fermin was still the same kid you knew from before, only now he was a great football player and very famous but he didn't lose the essence. Although the advantage of having a famous friend was something you began to like at times. You were in one of the best clubs in Barcelona, free drinks and really rich people. You couldn't complain. Although his other friends were really boring, what was the point of being famous if you weren't going to enjoy your life? They were always there, sitting around, drinking and chatting with each other.
"I need help with this one" he announced and you laughed as you almost fell over from not being able to hold your balance.
In front of you, you could see the players watching you hiding their laughter at your ridiculous spectacle and as Fermin tried to hold you up so you wouldn't run out of his hands onto the dance floor again.
"I'll take care of the others, could someone drive her home?" you heard him ask towards his friends and you rolled your eyes.
You didn't want to be a bother to any of them, surely they had something to do with their busy celebrity lives, so you planned to take a cab home. Yes, you were drunk but nothing you couldn't handle on your own. It wasn't the first time.
"I can give her a ride, i'm leaving anyway" someone said and you could see one of his friends get up from his spot.
Pablo Gavi. The man that every woman in Spain is crazy about him. A self-centered jerk that you still couldn't get along with. Not for anything special, he just had some attitudes you didn't like, like thinking he was the center of the world, that all women were at his feet or that he was the best at his job. You really didn't understand how someone like him could be Fermín's best friend. They were such opposites.
"I'll send you her address, take care of her, brother" Fermin warned pointing to his friend.
"I don't want to leave!" you whined as your friend helped you put on your jacket. You hear a snort from the boy who was waiting behind you but you ignored him.
"You need to rest, tomorrow you'll have the worst day of your life, Y/n" he said hugging you goodbye.
You pouted and nodded resignedly.
"See you around, gentlemen" you waved them towards the other players, who waved back at you animatedly as you staggered out behind Gavi.
There were still quite a few people for it being almost closing time, so you walked carefully trying to step firmly following Gavi but the boy's back was getting further and further away from you. He didn't even bother to notice if you were behind him, he just continued on his way out of the place. Idiot.
When you crossed the door of the discotheque, you hugged your body in the cool of the night and your eyes caught sight of the young man waiting for you a little further away. His gaze was cold, disinterested. So you rolled your eyes, walking towards the edge of the street, away from him.
"What are you doing?" you heard him ask in the distance.
"Going home" you mumbled looking to your sides to see if a cab was approaching.
"The car is that way" he sighs again pointing.
Clearly you were a bother to him and you didn't want to owe any favors to any of Fermin's friends, least of all him.
"You're fucking drunk, come on" he said and you let out a wry huff.
"I'm not your concern anymore, you can go" you said again.
"I told Fermin I'd take you" he reneged coming up behind you.
"I won't tell him anything, you go your way, I'll go mine. Problem solved" you reply edgewise. You can hear him sigh angrily.
For a few seconds silence ensues, you say nothing but you can see out of the corner of your eye his figure behind you. Maybe you're being a bit airheaded but you know he's only taking you home for commitment and you'd rather not bother him honestly.
"Whatever you want" you hear him say and nod.
When you think he'll leave, because you see him move, you sigh in relief... but then hands wrap around your legs and you squeal as you're lifted off the ground. You scream as you are left face down, Gavi grabbed your legs and carried you over his shoulder, depositing his hand on your legs while the other on your back holding you up.
"Put me down!" you scream trying to kick but he stops you forcefully. "Pablo, put me down now!" you ask again screaming.
His cold hands squeeze your skin and make you shiver, how dare he? you want to hit him so bad! Your legs are uncovered in front of him and it embarrasses you, probably everyone is seeing your panties thanks to that idiot Pablo Gavi.
"I'm. going. to. kill. you" you scream over and over again, hitting his muscular back.
Damn. His muscles are really hard, you swallow saliva as you feel his firmness under your fingers. Being upside down is no doubt making you unable to think. You get to his car, where you hear him unlock it and open the passenger door, you make a move to get out of it but Gavi lifts you back up and sits you in the seat as if you were a five year old. You cross your arms over your chest and refuse to even look at him.
"Stop acting whimsical" he mutters as his arms cross your body to buckle himself in. You roll your eyes at his words and ignore him.
You are angry. You want to hit him and hit Fermin for letting you go with Gavi.
Damn it, you can't take it.
During the whole trip, you stay in your place as if you were not there, even at times your eyes close but you force yourself to stay awake. Gavi kept spying on you while driving, making sure everything was okay. The atmosphere is tense and silent, no one says a word. You're not sure if Fermin told him where you lived or how he was supposed to know the way to your house because when you realize it you start to recognize your neighborhood.
He parks in front of your building and waits a few seconds until you unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your stuff.
"Do i have to carry you all the way home too?" he says teasingly and you open the car door.
Duh duh duh duh. You want to taunt him in that sarcastic tone and curse him out but he won't take any more from you.
As you take a step outside and try to walk, you trip over your own foot and stagger but manage to grab hold of the door before you fall. You hear a low chuckle and your nerves start to make you sweat (or maybe it's the alcohol).
You tell yourself that you can and stand back up to take another step. The worst thing is that you know Gavi is watching you with his smile judging you and makes you want to die right there. Sure, he's a perfect guy who has never come home drunk enough to make a fool of himself.
When you manage to take a few steps away from the car, you start looking in your purse for your building key but start gasping when your hands can't find it. You pick up everything, cards, lipstick, chewing gum, bills but can't find it. Damn, did it all have to happen to you now? You hear Gavi get out of the car and you rush to look for the key starting to curse in whispers.
A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you grab them from the bottom of your purse, my god. If it wasn't for the fact that you were controlling yourself you probably would have screamed with happiness when you pulled them out.
You walk to the big door and open it, hearing footsteps behind you approach. You turn and see the young man with his hands in his pockets, watching you. As your eyes make contact with his, your stomach churns and your throat goes dry. why is he still here?
"T-thank you for bringing me" you thank him stammering.
"I'll come up with you, i have to make sure you get home and don't fall on the way" he says slowly.
Did you look that bad? How could he think you needed a ride home? Yes, you were drunk. But you could, you had managed to walk here by yourself and open the door. Taking the elevator and getting into the house couldn't be impossible, could it? You didn't understand why he cared so much if he hardly ever cared about you. It seemed that he was also intent on bothering you.
"Whatever you want" you repeat like him before and roll your eyes making room to let him pass.
You turn to start walking and your world turns upside down, making you stagger again from the sudden movement. Fuck, you shouldn't have drunk so much. Not when you hadn't had a drink in so long, you'd clearly lost your taste.
His hands help support you, placing them on your hips. His touch is warm and when his fingers press against your skin, your legs tremble and you're not sure it's from the alcohol especially. He is so close to you that you can hear his breaths, his scent invades your nostrils and you swallow saliva trying to assimilate.
You are paralyzed as if your mind had stopped working, when his hands move a little, helping you back on your feet. You are thankful he is behind you because you feel your face burning, your lips tremble as you feel his warmth next to yours and you don't understand what is happening to you. You keep walking towards the elevator still without seeing him, you will die of embarrassment if you do, he is surely enjoying this and can mock you forever.
The elevator doors open and you enter first going to the side, seeing how Gavi enters inside the metal box as well. He is untouched, sporting his perfect hairstyle, his well-ironed, clean, quality clothes, his face looks uncluttered, fresh. For some reason thinking about him makes you feel discomfort in your belly as if something is fluttering inside you. You sigh as the doors come off and you mark your floor, looking to your side seeing the boy standing next to you.
Pablo turns to look at you and when he catches you looking at him he smiles a little, you feel your neck burn with embarrassment but for some reason you can't stop looking at him. It's as if you study his every move, watching him there, standing next to you, hands in his pockets, expressionless.
You turn slightly, leaning against the metal wall your back against it and turn your attention back to him. You suddenly feel like talking but don't know what to say.
"How does it feel to be famous?" you ask curiously.
He lifts his shoulders indifferently. Is he really a cocky idiot like everyone says? They always say that footballers are narcissistic, self-centered and womanizers. Many claim that Gavi is one of them. Curiosity killed the cat and you're honestly dying to know.
"You must have a very big ego" you say somewhat sarcastically.
He sighs as if he's tired of you and that makes you want to keep pestering him.
"Actually, no" he says in response and turns around facing you.
"Of course you'll say that" you click your tongue. "At the end of the day you're Pablo Gavi" you roll your eyes laughing.
His eyes narrow trying to understand your answer and the sound of the sound that came to your floor announces itself, opening the doors. You straighten up taking a step to leave but when you try to cross, his hand stops you. You swallow as you see how his hand is almost close to your belly, brushing against you and the memories of him carrying you in the discotheque come back to your head. Out of the corner of your eye you see him so close to you, you tremble, he has presence on you and you are attentive to any movement he makes.
His hand now encircles your body and he pushes you into a corner against the wall as the elevator closes its doors again after a few seconds of waiting. Your back slams against the metal wall again as his body presses against yours.
"Do you have a fucking problem with me?" he asks harshly and you raise your head to face him.
Your heart is pounding as if you've just finished running a marathon. Your palms sweat, you even feel your pulse tremble and you know the alcohol isn't to blame for that... it's Gavi. Words get stuck in your throat when you try to speak, it's as if your conscience doesn't respond on its own.
Still, you raise your jaw to face him, you will not show him fear, you will not show him weakness. Even though you feel like every atom of you wants to fade away because of his closeness.
He waits for an answer, because he keeps looking at you through his dark eyes, serious and agonizing. Your exposed chest rises and falls at the lack of air between you, you begin to suffocate beneath him and if you don't respond right now, he will have won.
"I don't like you, just that" you admit feigning harshness.
Gavi lets out a wry huff, smiling a little.
"You don't know me" he says edgeily, gritting his teeth. His neck is red and you can see his veins starting to mark through his pale skin. For god's sake.
But he was right, you don't know him at all. Although you could deduce what kind of person he was from so few things.
"And I don't want to" you spit getting closer to her face to show her that you can be tough too and not just another one of his pile.
You're so angry that you're not afraid. In fact it doesn't bother you to be so close to him, you just want to face him, you want to hurt him. If he was a normal person, you probably would have broken his heart with those words but you're not dealing with just any person.
In front of you, Pablo Gavi smiles licking his lips in mockery. He's not just any man, he's one of those who don't break easily and that everyone fears.
But not you.
Kiss him. You hear your thoughts and freeze. Damn, did you drink too much? or not enough? because right now you're losing your mind.
Words become null and void. You can only hear your breaths in front of each other. The atmosphere is tense, suffocating and even toxic. You are both angry, full of adrenaline and about to explode.
Without realizing it, your movements come to life and you grab his neck from behind and pull him close to you in a matter of seconds, without thinking. Your lips collide with his and you kiss wildly.
The grip on your waist presses your bodies together and you gasp at the sensation of his fingers squeezing you.
You melt into the heat of a bold, hard and hot kiss. You waste no time fighting to touch each other and your hands trying to hold onto each other any way you can. You are desperate as if you were two hunters before a prey, killing by hunger. You both touch, kiss, feel each other, enjoying the moment. His hand sinks into your legs and helps you lift it over his body as you keep trying to touch him, your skin feeling his hard muscles.
Sparks shoot from your bodies, you are so desperate that you don't notice that you are still inside the elevator. The minutes pass like shooting stars but you don't stop kissing.
You will definitely have the worst day of your life tomorrow and you really wish all the alcohol you drank today was enough to not remember any of this.
Otherwise, you won't be able to live with it.
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cheriecelestial · 2 months
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Batboys as Desi Films
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𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧
Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995)
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Raj and Simran meet during a trip across Europe and end up getting stranded in the middle of nowhere after they miss their train. Despite their initial clashing, they fall in love. However, Simran’s traditional father has arranged her marriage elsewhere. Raj must win over Simran’s family to marry her, leading to a series of heartfelt moments, comedic misunderstandings, and ultimately, a dramatic climax where love conquers all as the couple fights for their happiness against societal norms.
Dick is so raj coded with his quips and charisma. Their chaotic banter and chemistry is off the charts. Any Indian who hasn’t watched this gets their desi card revoked immediately, I don’t make the rules. This movies fits Dick’s dramatic flair perfectly.
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𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝
Goliyon ki Raasleela Ram-Leela (2013)
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The modern adaptation of William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,” set in rural Gujarat, India. It follows the love story of Ram, from the Rajadi clan and Leela, from the Sanera clan, who belong to rival gangster clans engaged in a long-standing feud. Despite the enmity between their families, Ram and Leela fall deeply in love, leading to a tragic and tumultuous journey filled with passion, violence, and sacrifice.
It fits Jason’s love for guns and classics. An absolute visual treat with cinematography and all the songs are absolute bangers.
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𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐞
Jab We Met (2007)
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Aditya, a heartbroken business tycoon, someone who was dwelling in the lowest ebb of his life and was almost on the brink of giving it all up, aimlessly boards a train to escape his depressing life. On his journey he meets Geet, a talkative and vivacious young woman. Geet is on her way to meet her boyfriend, but her plans go awry, and she ends up stranded. Aditya, feeling sorry for her, decides to help her get to her destination safely. Along the way, they encounter various adventures and challenges that bring them closer together. Despite their contrasting personalities, they develop a deep connection. However, when they part ways, Aditya realizes his love for Geet and sets out to find her. In the end, they reunite, realizing they are meant to be together.
Grumpy x sunshine. The OG green flag. Epitome of ‘if he wanted to,he would’. Makes my chatterbox heart happy because of how much I relate to the FL. Favourite comfort movie of all time. ML kinda looks like Cillian Murphy’s scarecrow. “I like you a lot but that is my problem, you don’t need to worry about it.” Their fights and his little sassy comebacks and rants were so cute and fun to watch.
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𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞
Jodhaa Akbar (2003)
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The Mughal emperor Akbar, seeking to forge political alliances, marries Jodhaa, a Rajput princess. Initially a marriage of convenience, their relationship evolves as they learn to respect and love each other. Jodhaa struggles to adapt to Mughal customs, especially with their cultural and religious differences but her courage and integrity win Akbar's admiration. Despite conspiracies and opposition, including from Akbar's own court, their love prevails. The film explores the transformation of a young ruler, initially groomed for ruthlessness by his mentor Bairam Khan, into a wise and compassionate emperor who values mercy, diplomacy, religious harmony and cultural acceptance. Akbar's realization of the importance of religious tolerance, showcased through his abolition of discriminatory policies and his respect for all faiths.
The arranged marriage tag and the ‘raised as a weapon but softens and shows more compassion out of respect and love for his empress’ tag fits demonhead!Damian so much. The way he said mashallah after he pulled off her veil in the middle of a sword fight >>>>. I love how it captures the essence of India’s rich heritage and diversity. “Why seek paradise ? It is before me now.”
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𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞
Khoobsurat (2014)
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Milli, a free-spirited and eccentric young woman becomes the physiotherapist for a royal family. She brings her lively yet clumsy personality into the conservative royal household, shaking up their structured lives. It clashes with the formal atmosphere of the palace, especially with the stern matriarch, Nirmala Devi. Despite initial resistance, Milli's unconventional methods bring joy and laughter into the lives of the family members, including the brooding prince, Vikram. As Milli navigates the challenges of fitting into the royal household, she also finds herself falling in love with Vikram, leading to a series of comedic and heartwarming moments.
Very cliched (well it is a Disney film) and the second hand embarrassment is unreal but sometimes after a long day all you need is a feel-good cheesy rom-com. Oh to sit next to Fawad Khan in a red convertible while gazing lovingly at him. I like how she emphasises on improving the patient’s mental health to help him heal. Incase you haven’t noticed already, cold brooding™️ x silly goose is my favourite character dynamic.
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𝐀/𝐍 - I’ll be honest with y’all, this was to satiate my desire of writing x desi! reader cuz I don’t have enough motivation or time to do it T^T
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very-straight-blog · 15 days
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It really tires me how some fans try to make Aegon look like an asshole who doesn't give a shit about anything. This is a fundamental misunderstanding of his character as such. Of course he cares, that's literally the essence of his personality. He cares. He and Aemond both feel too much emotion, but if Aemond sublimates into self–improvement, trying to be strong, cold and detached, then Aegon is literally an open wound. I want to talk about this, also using Tom's interviews (yes, I think the actor's opinion is valid in this matter) and the few scenes that we have in the first season.
We know that Aegon didn't want the throne and wasn't ready to rule. The scene with Alicent, who explains to him the prospects for the future of their family, seems very traumatic to me. Imagine what it's like to know from your childhood that the lives of people close to you depend on you, on how strong you'll be. Such a burden can destroy anyone. You can't just ignore it.
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Next, we're shown how Aegon drinks on Driftmark. And that's a pretty sad sight - several cups in a row, wincing, as if taking a medicine that will help him to feel better.
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Actually, I like the theory that he gets drunk after Aemond says that Helaena is his future queen. Another reminder that he'll have to marry his own sister, for whom he has no feelings. And he drinks because he tries to numb his pain.
The same goes for his obviously unhealthy attitude towards sex - he uses it to numb his loneliness. I believe that Aegon literally didn't have the opportunity to feel what love is in any form. His father disliked him and showed it openly. His mother loved him, but she never knew how to express it the way he needed to. He was married to his sister (the tragedy for both of them) and it was a matter of duty, not feelings. At the time of the first season, Aegon is deeply unhappy and this is obvious. I have every reason to believe that his need for physical intimacy is based on the fact that this is the only form of love he can receive. Considering that Aegon is quite smart, I even think that he himself understands how ugly this form is, but there's nothing he can do. During the act, I guess in some unhealthy way it really saves him from loneliness, longing and the need to be loved, but in the end it makes him even more unhappy.
Then it's impossible not to remember the eighth episode and the famous:
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It's still clear that family is important to him. Yes, he feels like a stranger among his relatives, but it hurts him just because he cares. He cries and says "it will never be enough for you or father" because he wants it to be enough. He still loves them and wants them to love him back.
"What Aegon wants more than anything is to be told by his dad ‘I have faith in your capabilities as a young man. I see you bringing prosperity to King’s Landing.’ But he hasn’t said any of those things. His dad has completely ignored him, in fact, throughout his entire youth." (с) Tom Glynn-Carney for Esquire
Next, we can move on to episode nine and the fact that Aegon ran away. I've seen a lot of opinions that this is an indicator of selfishness and like...what? He was scared. This follows from the script:
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He was scared, he'd never leave his family, much less Sunfyre. It was a decision made in a panic when he realized that his father had died and the moment he had feared all his life had come - he needed to accept the crown to protect his family.
During the conversation in the carriage, we see that Aegon was really hurt that his father didn't love him:
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He even said "because he didn't like me" when talking about his father's attitude towards him. He didn't use the word "love" because it was obvious to him that his father didn't love him. He used the word "like", unknowingly emphasizing that he couldn't count on even simple sympathy.
He's also well aware that Viserys could have named him the heir, but didn't do so simply because he didn't want to and because of this, he - the eldest son, feels unworthy of the throne, and also completely lost.
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When Alicent tells him that Viserys wanted to make him the heir before his death, an emotional dam breaks inside him, it's literally written in the script:
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And at this moment, looking at the dagger, he's not even listening to Alicent, he's completely in his thoughts - maybe, at least for a second, his father cared about him. And when he asks his mother if she loves him, we see how much he craves love, how broken he really is, how important his family is to him.
I know this post is insanely long and I haven't even analyzed the various microexpressions in Tom's acting, but I'm really tired of people wanting to make Aegon something pure evil.
"I also see Aegon as being incredibly complex. He's not an out-and-out psychopath. I see a multilayered character that just has endless potential of pits of vulnerability and empathy and things that we don't see. I think it's his vulnerability that breeds the darkness. It's the way he copes, it's his security, it's his safety blanket, it's an addictive coping mechanism for him to shut things out and to be cold." (с) Tom Glynn-Carney for Entertainment Weekly
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theatrum-tenebrarum · 2 years
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Misunderstanding Lucifer from the Sandman series and why Gwendoline Christie is the right choice (an art historian and occultist's opinion)
I am writing this post as I'm absolutely baffled by the issues people seem to have with the portrayal of the character of Lucifer in the Sandman series. For some reason people find it problematic that the fallen angel is played by Gwendoline Christie, a powerful and androgynous-looking woman, but there is seemingly no problem with Lucifer being played by a black-haired man in the nightclub business (Tom Ellis in the Netflix series 'Lucifer'). Don't get me wrong, Tom Ellis is entertaining and wonderful to watch, but that particular version of Lucifer is neither canon when it comes to the comics nor does it have anything to do with the actual angel Lucifer.
Angels are genderless beings and they have always been portrayed as androgynous in the history of art. Multiple literary sources, including grimoires (books with supposed instructions on how to summon these beings and many others), state that angelic beings as well as demons are able to change their appearance. Many of those forms they might take aren't even humanoid and they can choose not to show any physical form at all. They aren't corporeal beings, the fact that they do take on any resemblance of a physical form is just so humans can understand them better. That's why we've been painting them as human-like ever since the early times of human civilization. What we make to be similar to us is what makes it comprehensible. Portraying beings from other dimensions/realms as human-like but with androgynous features is a way to show they don't belong in the physical dimension, as gender is likely a non-existent concept in other realms of existence. Androgyny of mythical beings, therefore, emphasizes the fact they are different than physical beings such as humans.
Therefore, when portraying an angelic being in art, or in any type of media, making them androgynous is making way for their essence to come through. In a way, the same applies to the way elves are portrayed as ethereal and androgynous since they don't have to be corporeal beings at all, at least when it comes to folklore. I know this opinion might not be understandable to others or it might sound controversial, but I believe that not portraying an angelic being as androgynous and not showing any signs of their divine origin (these include mannerisms that emphasize their etheriality for example, a cadence in their voice that is different etc.) is a huge missed opportunity that might rob these interesting mythical beings of what they are. Not making angels feel like angels beats the point of having an angel character (in a movie, series or video game for example) in the first place.
This is why Gwendoline Christie is the right choice. At a height of 6′ 3″ (1.91 m), captivatingly pale. androgynous with a powerful specific sort of grace and presence - a perfect 'vessel' for the Morning Star. What's more, she understands the importance, complexity, grandeur and the mythical dimension of the figure of Lucifer, as well as the whole 'spirituality' of the Sandman universe which is rather evident from her approach to this role and the interviews she has given so far. I might go so far to say that, even though the Sandman series isn't even out yet (though there is some footage available already), the casting of Gwendoline as Lucifer feels right just as the casting of Lee Pace as Thranduil in the Hobbit felt right and I consider the character of Thranduil to be the best portrayal of a humanoid mythical being on TV. Lee felt like an elven king, moved like an elven king, spoke like an elven king and radiated an energy of the dimension the elven king might have come from (I'm talking about the folkloric 'Otherworld' where elves supposedly live). I feel the same might apply to Gwendoline and Lucifer.
As an occultist, art historian, anthropologist and someone who is rather fond of the figure of Lucifer, I am looking forward to seeing how Gwendoline interprets him. Finally, we might get something completely different from a frequently portrayed 'demonic' side/version of this important mythical character. We might just see the Light Bringer who has not forgotten his divine origin.
- Heidi (@theatrum-tenebrarum)
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Gwendoline Christie as Lucifer (The Sandman series on Netflix, out 5th August 2022)
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scriggle-scraggle · 3 months
Text
Due South Fic Recs
Academic Punk by TheHoyden (RayK/Fraser): The quintessential college professor AU
Busted & its sequel Tapestry by JiM: A year after CoTW, and a life-changing experience, Ray goes back to Canada
Like a House on Fire by @bethbethbeth01 & kelliem (RayK/Fraser): “In the immortal words of Yogi Berra, ‘It’s deja vu all over again.’”
With Six You Get Eggroll by @cesperanza (RayK/Fraser): The story of how Ray & Fraser ended up with six kids.
Ray Is Not Actually Graphing The History Of His Relationship With Fraser–That Would Be Pathetic, And Ray Is Not Pathetic–But If He Was Graphing It, Even Just In His Own Stressed-Out, Messed-Up Brain, It Might Look Something Like This by sprat (RayK/Fraser): The sex has never not been good. That is not the confusing part of Ray-and-Fraser. They are naturals at the sex; the sex is their friend. If there was some kind of sexathalon, the two of them would be All-State, trophy-winning champs.
Like a House on Fire by Beth H (bethbethbeth): "In the immortal words of Yogi Berra, 'It's deja vu all over again.'"
Ping by Speranza: I am not the only person here who wants a do-over.
Tip, Slide, Tumble by j_s_cavalcante: Ray knew when he found the body in the alley it was going to change someone's life. He just didn't expect that life would be his.
All the Comforts of Home by rattlecatcher: post-CotW
Family Portrait by Journey [archived by dsa_archivist]: A slightly AU Ray Kowalski meets Constable Benton Fraser.
This Is Us Series by AuKestrel: how was the decision reached between Kowalski and Fraser to embark on the quest for the Hand of Franklin?
Near Wild Heaven Series by AuKestrel: This was, almost literally, the first thing I wrote, and certainly the first long thing I ever wrote. (Coming to Terms was the first "short" story I wrote and posted.) I worked on this off and on for over a year and did not write it in any kind of linear fashion. The first part was actually finished last, in part because I was stuck in getting them to a plausible misunderstanding that was necessary for the plot (such as it was). It's rough, and could have done with more work, although I did fix a lot of the (popular at the time, I swear!) dialect.
I'm posting it in part because I had SUCH a great time writing it (in fact, there are still parts of it that make me laugh), because I learned so much by/while writing it, and also because it's sort of "historical": a lot of the tropes in dS fandom did not exist when this was written (hard to believe, but there were only 27 F/K stories on Hexwood when I came into the fandom, and only about 5 of those had any kind of M/M sex!), and I thought it would be fun for other people to see how we earlier writers managed such things as tropes before they were tropes. But, in essence, you are about to read a "first novel," with all the alarm bells that ought to ring in your head.
Hawks and Hands by Dira Sudis (dsudis): Eighteen sex scenes strung together with angst and hockey.
Finding the Words by Berty: When luck finally runs out, who's there to pick up the pieces?
Wildly Courteous Ways by Starfish [archived by dsa_archivist]: A new assignment has Ray worried until Fraser steps in to help.
When the Ice Goes Out by Kellie Matthews [archived by dsa_archivist]: Long past CotW, Fraser and Ray K. discover that life both it and isn't as simple as it seems.
What We Talk About When We Talk About Wolves by Penelope Whistle [archived by dsa_archivist]: From stake-out to make-out.
Unguarded Protectorate by Bone [archived by dsa_archivist], Mairead Triste [archived by dsa_archivist]: Smut and angst. This story was previously published in the zine SERGE PROTECTOR.
Somewhere Else to Be by Kellie Matthews [archived by dsa_archivist]: This is an AU. Fraser's not a Mountie, Ray's not a cop, but as someone once said, things once linked remain that way. In any universe, they are meant to be partners.
The Reaching Out One by Alex51324: (AO3 account required) It's ten years after the events of CoTW (in other words, the present day). After the Quest, Fraser and Ray went back to their regular lives--
The Course by Bone [archived by dsa_archivist], Aristide [archived by dsa_archivist]: Randomness. Inevitability. Smut.
If It Walks Like A Duck . . . by Beth H (bethbethbeth): When an old friend of Ray Kowalksi's returns to Chicago, it takes almost no time at all for her to draw the obvious - and erroneous - conclusion about Ray and his "partner."
Genesis by kalena: In the beginning, Ray Kowalski meets Benton Fraser, geologist and volcano cowboy, in Hawaii. AU.
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03jyh23 · 2 months
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— a dance with danger || song mingi
night deepens, there’s nowhere to go with my heart. i can’t pretend to be strong anymore. i can’t be in this space where you left me.
nonidol!mingi ex!mingi x afab!reader; exes to (?);
genre: angst, suggestive
trigger warnings: break-up; physical violence; blood and injury; relationship conflict; emotional distress; mature language; alcohol use; toxic jealousy;
words: 3.3k
written while listening to: one of those nights by key
reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.
minors do not interact
— hi there! the time has finally come for my first requested one-shot! to my lovely anon, thank you so much for being the first person ever to leave a request! i sincerely hope you will enjoy reading!
love, monika. ♡
It's been more than four months since you and Mingi broke up. You never exactly received an explanation for what caused him to end your relationship. You had told your friends that the breakup didn't affect you, but it was nothing more than a lie. You felt foolish that such a short relationship had affected you so deeply. The memory of Mingi leaving while you were starting to fall in love deep was a wound that still felt raw, despite the passing time. It was a brutal blow, one that shattered the fragile trust you had placed in him and left you questioning everything you thought you knew about love. 
You haven’t been dating for long before he decided to leave, maybe that’s why it left you utterly shocked. You had entered the relationship with the expectation that your love would blossom tenderly, gradually unfolding. Mingi was the kind of boy that teenage you had dreamed of, he possessed an effortless charm that drew you in from the moment you two met, his smile igniting a spark within you that you couldn't ignore. With his tousled hair and mischievous grin, he embodied the very essence of youth and adventure. He was everything you had ever wanted and more, a living, breathing embodiment of all your teenage dreams. 
In the early days of your relationship, you often found yourself lost in daydreams, imagining a future filled with shared laughter and stolen kisses. Mingi seemed to effortlessly fulfil all the fantasies you had as a lovesick teenager, his presence a constant source of joy and excitement.  
The memory of Mingi breaking up with you still haunts you, though his demeanour was devoid of emotion as if he just wanted to get it done with. 
"Please... say something," his voice was monotone, devoid of the passion or empathy you once knew, as he searched your eyes for a response. You stood there, stunned into silence by his cold detachment. How could you find the words to articulate the storm of emotions raging within you? How could he be so indifferent? As you opened your mouth to speak, the words caught in your throat, tangled in a mess of confusion and disbelief. What could you possibly say to someone who had already checked out, who had already made up their mind? At that moment, all you could do was meet his cold gaze with tear-filled eyes, silently begging him to take it all back, to tell you that it was just a cruel joke, a misunderstanding. The silence between you was heavy and suffocating, it became unbearable. As Mingi turned away, his expression unreadable, you knew that your chapter had come to a close. And though the silence he left you in was suffocating, it was also a relief, a release from the turmoil that had consumed you. 
You haven’t seen him since. 
It was a Saturday evening. You slipped into your favourite little black dress, taking extra care with your makeup. You were all dolled-up and ready to step out and begin living your life. Hitting a club occasionally with your best friend used to be your way of dealing with reality, but after the breakup, it took on a new significance.  
As you made your way to the club, the vibrant lights and pulsing music greeted you, offering a temporary escape from the weight of your emotions. Among the crowd, you found solace in the anonymity, allowing yourself to lose control and dance away your troubles for a while. Each beat of the music seemed to wash away a layer of pain, leaving you feeling lighter, freer. Tonight, you were determined to embrace the present moment and reclaim your sense of joy and independence. You had never been the type to hit on guys at the club; you simply wanted to have fun with your girls, sipping on colourful drinks and feeling pretty. But tonight was different. You craved the sensation of being wanted. 
As the pulsating lights illuminated the crowded club, you scanned the club eagerly, searching for someone to fill the void tonight. Unwilling to admit it but consumed by an undeniable desperation for closeness. Frustrated by the lack of intriguing prospects, you retreated to the familiar comfort of the bar, ordering your favorite drink. Downing it in one swift motion, along with a few shots of tequila for good measure, you felt a surge of determination coursing through your veins as you made your way back to the dancefloor. Once again you started to look around, hoping to spot somebody worth your attention when unexpectedly, you felt hands on your waist, gently turning you around. The boy before you weren't your usual type, but something about his touch ignited a spark within you. Without hesitation, you pulled him closer by his neck, ready to confront him. 
"Don’t waste your time on me" you said directly to his ear. He looked at you surprised; a smirk appeared on his face. 
"It’s not a waste of time when you are this pretty" you smiled in response, not expecting to hear such an endearing answer. Perhaps sparing him a moment wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. "Does this smile mean you’re down?" you nodded, arms linking around his neck, pulling him till the space between you was non-existent. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist. With each movement, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. There was something exhilarating about surrendering yourself to the music, about losing yourself in the arms of someone whose name you didn't even know. Song after song passed, and you couldn't shake off the blissful feeling that accompanied you as you danced with the boy. It had been a while since you had been touched like this, and your body responded instinctively to the proximity of the boy. It was getting harder for you to resist the temptation building in your stomach. The music pulsed around you, drowning out the voice of reason as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. You couldn't help but wonder what the rest of the night had in store for you, as your bodies grinded against each other. With each passing second, you yearned for him to draw even closer. You exchanged breathless smiles, as the music continued to pulse around you, the stranger leaned in, his voice barely audible over the din of the club.  
"Let me buy you a drink," he offered, a hint of warmth in his gaze. You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard, but then you nodded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "This might just get easier with a little more liquid courage," you thought to yourself, considering another drink to ease the tension. 
"I'd like that," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of excitement. You navigated your way through the crowded dance floor, your hands brushing against each other as you made your way to the bar. As you settled onto bar stools, the boy ordered your drinks, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something in his gaze, that left you yearning for more. And things took a turn as you leaned in for a kiss, a familiar face emerged from the dimly lit corner.  
Mingi. 
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you two locked eyes. But as you glanced once again across the crowded club, your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat. Everything unfolded so rapidly; Mingi came almost running to where you were sitting, and then he seized your companion by his collar, forcing him to stand up. The boy stood no chance, overshadowed by Mingi's towering presence. You sat on a bar stool, completely flabbergasted, your body refusing to budge. Mingi grabbed the poor boy hard, his legs started to dangle in the air. 
"Who the fuck are you?" Mingi gritted his teeth, his gaze not meeting yours again. Four months had passed since you last laid eyes on your ex-boyfriend, and in that time, you had begun to believe that he had vanished from the world altogether.  
"Why don't you just sit back and relax, man?"  And as your companion uttered those words, you knew it was a bad move. Mingi's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched tightly as he regarded your companion with a steely gaze. There was a dangerous edge to his demeanour, a simmering anger that threatened to boil over at any moment. You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you placed it on your companion's arm, silently urging them to back down. 
"Mingi, let him go" you finally interrupted, but it was too late; the damage had already been done. Mingi's grip tightened, his knuckles white as he held onto your companion's collar, his gaze piercing and unyielding. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent standoff between Mingi and your companion, with you caught in the middle. 
"Are you fucking deaf? Who the fuck do you think you are, getting cozy with my girl?" Mingi's voice was low and menacing, his words laced with nothing but anger. Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the shock of seeing Mingi again and the fear of what might happen next. You knew you had to defuse the situation before it escalated any further. 
"Mingi, please," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Let him go. It's over between us. I don't want any trouble." For a moment, Mingi's gaze softened, a flicker of regret crossing his features. But then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, replaced once again by a steely resolve. 
"Fine," he spat, releasing your companion and taking a step back. But the relief didn't last long, as Mingi reached for your glass. "Let me teach you a fucking lesson, so you won’t ever touch somebody else's girl ever again." As Mingi's hand tightened around the glass, a sense of dread washed over you, a premonition of the chaos about to unfold. Mingi hurled the glass with a forceful motion, aiming it at your companion. Instinct kicked in, and without a second thought, you lunged forward, placing yourself between Mingi and the boy, shielding him from the oncoming projectile. The glass struck your face, cutting your brow bone, with a sharp impact, shattering upon contact and sending fragments scattering across the floor.  
“Y/N!” Mingi shouted, horrified by his action. Pain exploded through you, and an ache spread through your body. As you staggered backward, the club spinning around, you felt Mingi’s hands on you, catching you before you collapsed. A surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Mingi's actions had crossed a line, igniting a fire within you that burned with anger. 
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” you spat the words out, voice laced with anger and disbelief. As you locked eyes with Mingi, you could see the shock and realization dawning in his expression, a stark contrast to the anger that had consumed him moments before. With every ounce of strength you could muster, you pushed Mingi away. The boy you were supposed to spend the night with was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t blame him, you also wished you could disappear from this mess. Mingi had crossed a line. You straightened your spine, refusing to let the pain and the anger consume you. You stood before him, blood trickling down your face.  
"Oh my god Y/N, is this blood? Is it yours?" Mingi's voice trembled with concern as he pulled you back into his arms, his touch surprisingly gentle as he rolled up his shirt and pressed it to your face to stop the bleeding. To say Mingi was shocked was an understatement; the disbelief in his eyes mirrored the turmoil swirling within you. You could feel the weight of his guilt and regret pressing down on you as he struggled to process the gravity of his actions.  
"No shit, Mingi," you gritted through clenched teeth, the pain pulsating through you like a relentless drumbeat. Despite the anger simmering just beneath the surface, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude towards him for his attempt to stem the bleeding.  
"Baby I am so sorry," your ex-boyfriend stuttered, tears falling down his face. Mingi's shirt absorbed the crimson stain of your blood. As you leaned into his embrace, a strange sense of resignation settled over you. "I never meant to hurt you, I’m so sorry," he was trembling "Let’s get you out of here" he murmured softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. You didn’t have it in you to refuse him. Mingi navigated your way through the crowded club, his arm wrapped protectively around you.  
After you stepped out of the chaotic atmosphere of the club, a sense of calm enveloped you in the cool night air. Your ex-boyfriend led you away from the pulsating lights and thumping music, his arm still wrapped protectively around you. You walked in silence for a while, the weight of your history hanging heavy in the air between you. But despite the tension that lingered, there was also a palpable sense of relief in the space that had opened up between you. As you reached a quieter street, Mingi finally broke the silence, his voice tentative as he spoke.  
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he began, his words tinged with regret. "I never meant to hurt you like that. I don't know what came over me." you listened in silence, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread. It was clear that he was grappling with his own demons, struggling to make sense of the chaos that had unfolded.  
"Mingi, we are not together anymore," you whispered softly, unable to meet his gaze, fearing that another look into his brown eyes would melt your heart completely. "I haven't seen you in four months, and now you finally decided to show up?" you continued, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing. Despite your attempts to maintain a facade of indifference, there was an undeniable ache in your words, a yearning for the closure that had eluded you for so long. 
"I didn't know you were going to be here, Y/N," Mingi replied, his voice carrying a hint of remorse.  
"It doesn't change anything," you said firmly, mustering all the strength you had to maintain your composure. "I was finally having a good time, and you decided to ruin it? I'm not yours anymore, and that's only on you." Each word dripped with the bitterness of unresolved pain, a reminder of the wounds that still lingered beneath the surface. 
"Please don't say that you're not mine anymore," Mingi pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. 
"But it's the truth, Mingi!" you countered, your own voice trembling with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "You gave up on us, remember?" you shouted, the floodgates of emotion finally breaking open. "And then you left me alone to deal with the heartbreak." Each word carried the weight of months of pain, a reminder of the scars that still haunted you. "I didn't even get the chance to tell you that I loved you," you sobbed, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air. "...I still fucking do," you added, your voice barely above a whisper, but carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions. You hid your face in the palm of your hands. You groaned in pain as your hands touched your cut brow, the sharp sting serving as a painful reminder of the chaos that had unfolded moments before.  
"You love me?" Mingi's voice was tinged with disbelief, his eyes widening in shock at your confession. Even in his boldest dreams, he had never dared to imagine hearing those words from you. 
"I do," you sobbed, your voice muffled by your hands. "But it doesn't change anything." The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the barriers that still stood between you, despite the depth of your feelings. 
"It changes everything," Mingi whispered, as you felt his hand touching your back gently, urging you to look at him. With a shaky breath, you lowered your hands, meeting his gaze with tear-filled eyes, bracing yourself for what would come next. 
"What do you mean?" you asked in disbelief. Mingi's gaze softened as he took a deep breath, his hand still resting gently on your back.  
"I mean," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "that I've been a fool. I let my fear get in the way of what's most important to me, and I pushed you away when all I wanted was to hold you closer." His words washed over you like a gentle wave, stirring something deep within your heart. Mingi's expression softened further as he met your gaze, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I need you to know that I never stopped having feelings for you. In fact, all of this happened because I started to fall in love with you." his words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken emotion. You felt your heart skip a beat, a surge of conflicting emotions welling up inside. "I was scared," he continued, his voice trembling slightly. "Scared of how much you meant to me, of how much power you had over my heart. I didn't know how to handle it, so I pushed you away." As he spoke, you could see the raw honesty in his eyes, the pain of his confession etched into the lines of his face. Despite the hurt he had caused, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him, a recognition of the struggles you both faced in navigating the complexities of love. And as Mingi reached out to take your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring, you felt a glimmer of hope stirring within you. "I love you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right again." Without a word, you reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline. At that moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you standing there in the quiet night. Finally, Mingi connected your lips, and you met in a tender, tentative kiss. As you pulled away, breath mingling in the cool night air, you knew that this was just the beginning of your journey back to each other. 
"You are a fucking idiot, Mingi" you giggled through your tears, your hand still resting on Mingi’s face. Despite the weight of the moment, a sense of lightness washed over you. Mingi intertwined your fingers, a smile never leaving his face. 
"But can I be your fool?" he asked, a boyish smile gracing his lips. In that moment, you felt a surge of affection welling up within you, softening the edges of your heart and filling you with a sense of warmth.   
"Yeah, I'd really like that," you replied, a genuine smile spreading across your face. Mingi pulled you in for another kiss, your hands linked behind his neck, his hands resting on your ass, igniting a fiery desire within you. The kiss quickly changed into a passionate, messy make-out session, both of you intoxicated by the intensity of your emotions. At that moment, you got lost in the heat, surrendered to the overwhelming rush of desire, knowing that you were exactly where you belonged, in Mingi's arms. As you started to lose your breath, you pulled back slightly, your lips brushing against Mingi's as you whispered, "Take me home."  
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skaldish · 11 months
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Do you think animism can sometimes get too close to anthropomorphizing other creatures
Not if you understand the word in the correct sense.
Most definitions of Animism you'll find online go something like this: "Animism is the belief that everything has a soul or vital essence to it."
This is often extrapolated to mean: "Animism is the belief that everything has human-like sentience."
But this is all based on how "animism" and "souls" are understood from a Christian point of view, and what Animism looks like from a Christian perspective is not going to give you much insight into how it functions.
A more accurate definition of Animism goes something like this:
Animism is any paradigm that acknowledges the interconnected nature of all things, and that all things were, are, and will continue to be defined in relation to each other. Everything both seen and unseen is part of the same ecosystem.
The "everything has a soul" bit is a rough interpretation of how Animistic paradigms don't view "the spiritual" and "the mundane" as separate things, but rather as phenomena occurring within the same ecosystem…including sub-ecosystems like individual living beings. Any lines drawn between "the spiritual" and "the mundane" are purely interpretive, because like anything in any ecosystem, removing one collapses the whole.
Whether or not this begets "everything having a soul" sort of just depends on how you want to draw those lines, and how you define the concept of "soul" or "vital essence."
Now, with that all said, let's talk about anthropomorphism.
(Note that I only speak about this within the context of Norse Heathen Animism, and that the following doesn't represent all Animistic paradigms.)
Anthropomorphism is a kind of personification, and personification in Norse Heathenry serves an allegorical function: It helps us portray what a spirit is like to a general audience.
Experiencing spirits is weird, at least for me, because the experience is built on a confluence of things: The spirit's astral appearance and how my mind interprets it, their material manifestation if they have one (it's usually commonplace, like an object or phenomenon), their apparent sentience, their accompanying vibes, information received via mental downloads, and any other "reading" I may get through various channels of perception. All these things work together to create the experience of the spirit. If that experience is human-like, then it makes sense to portray that spirit as human-like when describing them.
Personally, I don't see anthropomorphism as an issue on principle; it's a feature, not a flaw. It's only an issue when people don't understand what it's for, or misuse/misunderstand the function it serves. If you're trying to interpret it as literal rather than allegory, then the resulting confusion is going to make for a rough time.
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f1crecs · 11 months
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Fic Rec List - Fernando/Lance
you might enjoy: Canadian Fest, eh - for more Lance content.
If your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍
have a pairing you want me to do next? please read the faqs and then head to my inbox.
don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!
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i won't lie to you, anon... I thought we'd agreed on Strollonso as the pairing name. 🤭 my vote still goes to Lando.
i hope you enjoy these ❗️🤍
nsfw: El Dick Plan by @waddlingpenguin | E | 800 Lawrence and Fernando have a misunderstanding at the dinner table. This fic is hilarious - unashamedly unhinged, just as Strollonso should be, and so unbelievably funny. This was one of the first Lance/Fernando fics I read. I think it rearranged my brain a little bit.
'In fact, Lance literally has his foot so far up Fernando’s pant leg that Stoffel is surprised he’s not choking on Canadian toes each time he opens his mouth to talk to the engineers.'
shatter my life apart (see me for somebody else) by @vicsy | M | 1.4k An exploration of Lance and Fernando's relationship. This is a stunning fic. This author has just the most beautiful writing style - it's like poetry, and flows in the most stunning way. This is as much a love letter to Lance as it is to Strollonso - I really, really loved this one.
'Fernando Alonso is a perpetual wildcard and Lance builds his attitude around this little image, prepared for some sort of psychological warfare but it never happens.'
nsfw: victor's spoil by venerat | E | 1.9k Following Fernando's first pole for Aston Martin, Lance is invited to his room - a Winner's Room AU. The vibes here are suitably unhinged/rancid/possessive. If I were to recommend a fic to help someone get Strollonso, to understand the essence of who they are together, I would recommend this one. I love everything this author writes.
'Imagining Fernando with them makes Lance want to chew through wire. Again: fucked up, truly and extensively. He’s just really fucked up about Fernando.'
nsfw: I make two grand an hour by @kritischetheologie | E | 3.1k Lance meets Fernando for the first time at a sponsor event. I adored this fic. It is so funny and well-characterised and hot. One thing that I really love about this author is their ability to weave in detail - you could read their fics over and over again, and still pick up something new each and every time. It just makes for the richest, most delicious stories that draw you in every last time.
'(Lance had almost just said fuck it and gone into banking when he graduated two years ago, like he’d always known he probably would eventually, ever since the day he showed up at St. Andrews and realized that the entire world economy ran on fake numbers on a half-dozen computer screens, but the whole point of trust funds was supposed to be not having to be boring. Who the fuck else was going to make art? Humanity needed him to be living dramatically, falling in love with a thousand beautiful men whose lips he could immortalize in poetry.)'
nsfw: green light, red wine (and i don't feel fine) by @vicsy | E | 9k (wip) Fernando is a crime boss caught in a long-standing feud with Lawrence Stroll - things get complicated when he meets Lance. This fic is fantastic. The vibes are unmatched. This author has such a beautiful, almost melodic writing style, which I love. Also. This is fucking hot. 10/10.
'There aren’t many opportunities Fernando deliberately missed in his life. He wouldn’t be on top if he did. Right next to him, clad in a tight white t-shirt, sits an opportunity for a power move, the one Fernando would take all the way.'
nsfw: silver platter by @wewentcarracing | E | 9.7k Lance and Fernando grow closer, much to Esteban's dismay. This is delicious. Full of unhinged and intense moments. Every word of this is perfection; something I particularly appreciate about this author is their ability to build tension - you won't be able to put this story down once you've started it. Perfection.
'Lance laughs, off-guard and delighted. Fernando has this way of deciding what's true in his own mind and then forcing it into reality with brute strength alone. He's decided that Lance will make it to the podium this year, and so he will. It feels so, so good to hear coming from another driver—any driver, really, but the fact that it’s Fernando. Two-time WDC. Veteran. It doesn't feel like he's being toyed with; it feels real.'
nsfw: Not Even Jail by @baldrmoon | E | 9.9k (wip) Lance is a rookie detective with a new partner - they've met before. This is such a fantastic start to what I know is going to be an incredible story. The world-building here is fantastic. A world away from F1, but with so many of the dynamics and relationships mirrored in a totally new setting that feels very organic and true-to-life. It's just very well done, and I am excited to see what the author does next!
'Lance was charmed almost despite himself. The guy – Fernando, Lance made a mental correction, – smiled, a bit sideways, narrowing his eyes. Lance immediately felt flustered under his intense stare.'
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stinkyme · 8 months
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Hello! This is Nikolai fic I had an idea of, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :) <3
There are parts to this story that discuss death, reader is NOT suicidal, but metaphorically speaking, envying how the dead even have more freedom with their emotions than a living human. Also, they misunderstand Nikolai's idea of freedom because of lack of informations (they know he needs to die for a plan, so misinterpretation happens). There is also a part in the beginning that mentions their ability coming to an end, they are unaware of Fyodor's desire to kill all ability users, they just know they could be free from their ability. (this is very briefly mentioned, one sentence)
CW/TW: SFW, gn!reader, reader works at DoA and has an ability "Dead Souls", they don't like Nikolai at first, reader is also a bit mean/sharp/bitter at first, the story follows part of the main plot, bickering, sometimes sassy Nikolai, cursing, reader has never been in love or had friends, reader doesn't allow themselves to feel a lot due to the ability, a lot of dialogue and inner monologue, misunderstandings, Nikolai & reader prank Sigma, kinda slow burn, "friends" to enemies to lovers…?, they get into an argument, reader slaps Nikolai & uses harsh words, they make up, fluff and romance (yikes😒), if I forgot anything please let me know! :)
Also, there is a small portion where Nikolai and reader discuss his card, I am a bit of a fanatic towards tarot & regular cards, so I wanted to add that part because I think it's really interesting for Nikolai's character + it creates a bit of intimacy :) (basically, 3 of spades represents a failure in achieving a certain desire; outcome different than firstly anticipated. Usually disappointment, however, I wanted to make a little twist to it, given the nature of the fic, so his plan fails for other cheesy reasons :3)
* This mostly stems from my need for fluffy Nikolai and because I am an awful, cheesy & romantic person. (I disgust myself and you should be disgusted too)
I digress...I thought that using one of the works from an irl author to sort of...make an opposite, but similar to bsd Nikolai when it comes to freedom could be interesting. Ability isn't fully connected to a book itself, it's more my own interpretation + using the name to make it! :D Also, names are from the book, descriptions of souls in this case is different since I wanted to make a little variety :)
** When Nikolai says "So is graveyard", he isn't threatening to kill the reader, but teasing their ability and dead vibe/behavior or rather lack of excitement :3
I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)
this is long, I am sorry, spam how disgusting I am pls.....an AO3 link is here and in the fic, since it couldn't fit LOL
A cage of freedom || Nikolai Gogol x Reader
Dead Souls. That was your ability which you hated. It had some good parts, of course, but it mostly limited you in your own essence. Part of your ability allowed you to see other people's essence, their soul and one thing they crave the most. Different part was granting you power to see, speak to and help souls of the dead to pass on when they are ready. 
It all sounds like a lovely thing to experience, except it wasn't.
Indeed, the souls could help you as well, grant you needed information, take care of your blind spots, even fight for you.
However, everything has a price.
Yours was your own soul. Not in a way people usually imagine. 
Your ability didn't allow you to feel much. The dead who get stuck in the physical realm are already feeling a lot of heavy emotions - such as grief, pain, anger, sorrow and anxiety. Therefore, your own emotions had to be in constant check so you wouldn't be disturbing the souls attached to you and possibly ruin their remaining stability. With that being known, you realized that the best way is to not experience anything at all or rather, as little as possible. 
You didn't allow yourself to experience fear, anxiety or sadness. You learned to detach yourself and naturally, the stories of the poor souls made your endurance much bigger. Another big rule you had was not falling in love or loving people. They can leave at any moment and completely ruin the ground beneath you which would trap those souls you take care of in the worst parts of existence - eternal suffering and no memories of their lives. 
People can hurt you, they are unpredictable and dishonest, as much as you can see the part of their essence - that doesn't protect your own. It is always better not to risk it. That's what you've learned after so many years of living the way you do.
Which is why you were a perfect fit for Decay of Angels.
Someone who is rational, not emotion driven and has a flexible ability that actually grants more than one person. Fyodor was beyond intrigued, and you were beyond satisfied with their goal. You wanted your own ability to come to an end, but also, to stop the war. 
Aftermaths of wars still have souls lingering to this day, too damaged to be helped and you always feel a faint sting in your heart when you can't do anything. You can't even grieve them or cry over them, just forcefully accept endless suffering like it's nothing, but an inconvenience. 
You were deprived of basic human experience and the right - to feel. You were not a psychopath, nor a sociopath, no. You had to forcefully cage your own heart and limit anything that may come in or out of it. As much as you would like to say it does become easier, some days remind you that it's not. 
To say you crave a friendship, a love, a passion, a sadness, an intense happiness, a heartbreak, a feeling of being alive after being surrounded by nothing but death for as long as you remember was an understatement. 
Sometimes, the souls would apologize to you, they felt your desires too. They were beyond grateful for your work, but they also knew the suffering they were causing to you. 
Being stripped away from a life - in a living, functioning body in which the blood runs and heart beats intensely was nothing more than a punishment. Nothing less than a cruel joke. Just a simple slavery to your own unfortunate circumstance. You were a warm flesh covering your own cage, pretending to be alive while craving the freedom of the dead. A freedom of everyone else.
Even the worst scums on earth had a right to feel, but you? No.
You were deprived of a choice even before you were given one. 
When you met the rest of the Angels, you were not impressed by any, given the fact you already knew you wouldn't attach yourself. A quick glance at their essences told you everything you needed to know. 
Sigma, Bram, Fukuchi, Fyodor and finally Nikolai.
A home. 
A sleep. A family. It switches depending on whether he is awake or asleep.
An end to a war. 
Salvation and cleansing. 
A freedom.
You want to scoff. A freedom? From what? 
It often mildly annoys you how people's deepest desires are either shallow, overly egoistical or simply attainable. Some people desire to change the world in the name of God, old or dead friends which is always an excuse for them to do whatever they think is right. Nobody can out-perfect the dead and you know it very well. 
God is always used as a pedestal to explain human's extremities and allow them destruction in the name of higher good. Past can never not be sorrow and similarly to the dead - nothing can out-perfect it or change it. It all seems like a valid excuse simply because it can't be touched by humans. A past, the dead, a God. It's all singular and unchangeable. Therefore, it is undiscussable and immediately accepted as a valid reasoning for human's selfishness.
Some people desire a home or a family. Those are valid desires of any human and to those you can relate to. 
However, for most humans it holds no meaning. They are shallow in their desires. It's often a one-way street. They want to be loved and to be safe or secure, but they aren't ready to give the same treatment back. Or simply, they try to heal their own lack of certain emotions or feelings through physically conventional things. 
To make up for something they are not. 
But one thing they all are. Humans are greedy. Once they attain home or a family, they desire something else. More. More. More. It's always more. They always want more of life. They never learn to appreciate what they have and the freedom of choice they were given. The very beginning of it - a freedom to desire things. It could be your own mild bitterness speaking, but given your position, it was a fair mindset to have. You were not allowed to even desire too much or too hard.
Some people desire things they already have. Those you hated the most - as much as you were allowed to hate. 
They were either creepily shallow in a way such as - desiring more money when they already have everything they could possibly need. Desiring more partners; more love or passion when they already have a person who is completely devoted to them. Wanting more excitement, more happiness, more friends - everything they already had, but didn't appreciate, or could achieve without breaking a sweat.
A freedom?
There were people who desired freedom for good reasons. Abusive marriages, families or relationships. Being disabled or mentally ill. Being sick. Being overly pressured. Suffering things such as slavery, sex trafficking and similar. They desire freedom too and you know that. You don't speak of them, and you are aware of your own ungratefulness sometimes. 
But, human tragedies and pains are not to be compared because one will always seem smaller than the other, but emotions on each side will always remain. Desire on each side will always remain. Helplessness will always remain. 
They will connect through their despair which humans are either awfully good or bad at. 
You are the bad one. You can only connect to the dead, and even then, your input and output must be limited. Your heart shall not open more than an inch. If you could stitch it to be shut closed - you would. 
But you can't. Because certain empathy is needed for your ability to work. Not too much or too little of anything. To some it may seem like balance, but in reality it's torture. 
Either feel everything or nothing at all. Feel as much as you need to feel.
Because experiencing life in low, limited measurement is like a soul is sick. Experiencing life in rare tea spoons of what it means to be living. Get a drop of water when there is an endless, clean ocean in front of you. A few breaths of being alive in-between what seems like endless suffocation. 
It's awful and excruciating. It feels tightening. It feels like your soul is constipated to say the least. It feels torturous. 
Therefore, quite frankly, you can't help but experience a small jolting of nerves when you witness someone like him. Someone who seems so obnoxious, so loud, so out there, so shamelessly being themself. Someone who has all the freedom, who isn't bound by the dead, by the living, by the suffering, by his own ability. Hell, even listening about his ability makes you want to puke.
"My ability grants me to store things in my coat right here! I can also create portals and transfer my body parts or things. Pretty cool, isn't it?!" he is twirling around while he speaks, his voice enthusiastic.
"A true ability for a true magician!" he claps his hands before bowing down. As if he did something amazing.
You don't even say a word, a faint disgust on your face.
"Oh~, you don't seem impressed," his voice softens.
"How about now?!" he transports his hand from his coat to the other member named Sigma, squishing his cheek. Sigma yelps, giving him an irritated look.
"Could you stop that?!" he yells as he unsuccessfully tries to slap Nikolai's hand away as he reverts it back quickly, giggling. 
"Interesting." you say in an obviously disinterested tone. Nikolai looks at you, his expression confused for a moment.
"Ah, sarcasm! Got it!" he snaps his fingers before pointing at you.
"What about you, though? What's your ability?" he asks with a little smile on his face.
"I can speak to the dead." you deadpan and both men's expressions change to a slight shock.
"Really?" Nikolai asks, a bit intrigued.
"Really. I can communicate with them and help them cross once they are ready." you nod, your whole demeanor calm.
"That's spooky!" he says in a lower, but still expressive tone, covering his mouth with his hand that was further covered by the coat.
"Not at all. It's depressing, but rewarding at times." you reply in a casual tone. 
"Hm...still, quite spooky to me." he replies in a quieter tone.
"To each its own." you shrug. The silence fills the room, feeling a bit awkward, but as if it could affect you.
"So...are there any dead people with us now?" Sigma whispers.
"Quite a few actually. Around five at the moment." you smile as you rest your chin on your palm.
"Your whisper woke them, they seem to be quite angry with you. They will begin to hunt soon." you give him a sly gaze.
"Why?! I didn't do anything! How do I-"
"I am kidding. They don't care." you say in a slightly playful tone, calming an anxious man down. He would never be able to have your ability, it's entertaining to witness.
"So you do have a sense of humor after all! We will make a great pair." Nikolai giggles at your teasing. He sits next to you and you feel the disgust climb up your throat. 
Naturally, you tone it down immediately. For your own and the souls' sake.
"I don't think so." you raise your eyebrow at him, lips curling down a bit. Nikolai gives you a slightly confused expression.
"If I leave now, will they follow me?" Sigma whispers again and it makes you sigh out.
"No, they won't follow you. Unless you are the reason they are bound in the physical realm or I order them, they won't care about you." your voice is comforting. You understand people's anxiety around you and rarely blame them. It's better than those who cling onto you. Like this damn clown.
Sigma nods, letting a little sigh out from relief. He waves to you and leaves the room, you assume to the Casino he was in charge of.
"Do you want to prank him later?" Nikolai giggles happily, elbowing your arm. You want to rip his arm apart, but remain calm - as always.
"Not interested." you slowly get up, making a leave of your own. 
You stop for a moment, turning around to face him. Nikolai's expression seems innocent and dumb-founded. 
"One more thing though. I can also see the souls of people and their biggest desire. Quite frankly, yours disgusts me. So, if you would be so kind as to stay away from me unless it's a work thing." you give him a polite smile, regardless of your voice being sharp. You open the door and leave the room to go to your own before a mission.
......Continue on AO3
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ghelgheli · 2 months
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So I absolutely agree that gender is socially constructed, but I have always had a hard time with the idea of gender as being a set of "behaviors/expressions/desires" like you say, for the same reason why I'm uncomfortable with the Judith Butler "performance" idea. Doesn't that inherently leave the door open to say that, if someone says they are a trans woman, but they're behaviors/expressions/performance/etc don't line up with what a woman's are supposed to be, then we can just say "No, you're not a woman. You don't fulfill the criteria for womanhood." Like it feels like this inherently sets gender nonconforming people up to be blocked from the gender they identify with and forced back into one they don't. Am I missing something? This isn't a gotcha, I genuinely think I must be misunderstanding something, but no matter how I look at it, it seems like that would be the result of defining gender that way.
oh I don't think this at all! did I say I thought this? if I did I fucked up.
to start, my (second-hand, tbf) understanding of performativity in butler's sense is that it is widely misunderstood. the notion of gender as performativity is descended in part from speech-act theory a la JL Austin and so on; these are discussions of how certain utterances (like a priest declaring a marriage) can have uptake in the world and change it—ive just summoned the phrase "illocutionary force" into the minds of those readers that know. to perform such a speech act is to change the world just by speaking. this is the notion of performance at work in butler's theory (again, as far as my second-hand understanding goes. I'll read gender trouble soon)
in that theory, gender is built by people performing gender, and people performing gender constantly rebuild it. I think this can accommodate gnc expression because, like a speech act, someone can assert that they are performing a particular gender by fiat even if that performance is aberrant relative to whatever the dominant performance is. that is the kind of thing a masc woman does when she asserts that she's a woman despite "doing gender wrong". but that's enough of me defending butler by proxy. I don't actually think performance is a successful theory of gender, because it fails at identifying its material etiology
as far as I'm concerned gender is something that is done to people and that people take up themselves because they are wise to the ways it can and will be done to them. it is an organizing principle of cisheteropatriarchy which, along (and inseparably) with racialization, constitutes part of the superstructural foundation of our political economy. this precedes capitalism, but today has been fully adapted by it. it is the stabilizing grip of the family as an economic unit and is essential to the maintenance of division of labour as it exists today, designating certain groups (again, bearing in mind intersections with race) not just for reproductive labour but for any of the more invisibilized, precarious, subservient forms of labour c.f. the relationship between trans womanhood and sex work
the aesthetics of gender (behaviour expressions whatever) are just its visible surfacing and one of—along with its medicalization and racialization, e.g.—the methods of demarcating and enforcing it. deviation is punished only proximally because of this or that kind of outrage. the ultimate reason for punishment is the maintenance of capitalist homeostasis, insofar as such a thing is supposed to be possible (it is not, of course). and as the post I cannot stop talking about points out, transmisogyny is one of the most violently feverish of capitalism's autoimmune responses. but despite its violence, it is never a successful response, and on the contrary it manages just to condition defenses against it.
trans womanhood, for example, is not a historically stable object. it has as much ontological essence as any gender-inflected concept: none. it is one construction in response to the experiences of betraying maleness and its demands (linguistic, economic, behavioural, psychological... these are fuzzy concepts. there is no one narrative) and being subject to transmisogyny as a result. there are other constructions (crossdresser, transvestite, travesti, hijra...) that have been formed in response to transmisogyny, and all of them are stubborn tumours that capitalism will never be rid of; thus it tries to starve them.
but to get to your point: gender concepts, particularly "deviant" ones like trans womanhood, but even womanhood itself (which I conceive of as an umbrella) can accommodate nonconformity because no amount of, say, masculinity is going to redeem a trans lesbian as far as cisheteropatriarchy is concerned—ask me how I know. trans lesbianism, as a declared divestment from simply being a man, is unacceptable however it is instantiated. you may accuse me of being pessimistic here. I am!
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eldritch-spouse · 5 months
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Need to know who The Betrayer is and I also need to top them immediately
[Ah yes, the true essence of this blog- "Who are they and how can I fuck them?"]
The Betrayer was a former siadar creator who defected from his kin and, as a result of misunderstandings and differences in ideals, created what we now know to be Hell, as well as the first demons to ever exist.
Heaven and Hell thus began their seemingly eternal war, as the deviant was naturally wanted neutralized by other siadar authorities. Although The Betrayer died before the siadar abandoned Earth and its annexes, Perdition did live on, transforming with the tides of time.
No longer is it a black and white story, the relationships between the surface, Eden and Perdition have drastically altered. That paired with the warping of history by various sources at once has lead to a muddled past at best, and a fickle image of everyone's ancestry built upon pillars of lies.
Little is remembered about The Betrayer. Not many will recall his name, his appearances, the circumstances of his death are equally clouded in mystery. It is rumored by the oldest demons that his very ashes forever coat the grounds of each Ring. But is that true?
[This is a work in progress, and it's development was interrupted due to me both needing more time to organize it properly (as it a very important element) and my life starting to speed up, demanding my focus. I will hopefully have painted a much clearer and more entertaining picture of this in 2024.]
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defiantdreemurrs · 2 years
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kismesissitude is actually good
i just saw a garbage take about how having a kismesis is apparently "incredibly unhealthy" and never before have i so quickly into someones garbage little essay realized that they have absolutely no idea what theyre talking about. as someone in a genuine kismesissitude i figure i should set the record straight. lets dive into why kismesissitudes are actually pretty healthy and good to have.
for starters, what even *is* a kismesissitude? the very first comparison were given to human relationships is "an especially potent arch-rivalry" (p. 2395). in fact this is basically the *only* explanation of it were actually given aside from an example of a kismesissitude in the form of jack noir and the black queen in their various incarnations across timelines and universes. over time it would be compared to "hate-dating" with caliginous sex often being referred to as just "hate-fucking", but arguably the fanbase has focused primarily on the "hate" aspect.
thats a valid thing to attach to as its the simplest way to explain it to humans. the red quadrants are like love and the black quadrants are like hate. the problem is, the simplest explanation isnt always the most accurate. this is especially so when the very first explanation of it within the text explicitly states that its more akin to an arch-rivalry, without any real mention of just plain hatred, unless you count the initial acknowledgement on page 2393 explaining the quadrant system as a whole expressing that blackrom is "rooted in the strongly negative [feelings]".
so then, if the spades quadrant *isnt* about just hate-fucking and hate-dating, what is it about?
i dont think i need to say it a third time, but i probably should: its a rivalry. your kismesis is not your enemy. they are your rival. they are not just someone you direct all of your negative feelings and emotions towards. they are someone you might *hate* but someone you also *respect* (p. 7490).
this is why gamzee <3< terezi is expressly described as an unhealthy example of blackrom. gamzee doesnt respect terezi. his actions in their relationship are not an example of a healthy kismesissitude but rather a deeply abusive one. in contrast though, vriska <3< tavros is also *not* a good case study of why kismesissitude as a concept is unhealthy but rather just yet another example of an unhealthy spades relationship, though one less due to a lack of respect and more due to karkats likely accurate diagnosis of tavros as being unable to actually summon enough hate for a kismesissitude to even work.
so let me properly explain what a kismesis is. a kismesis is a romantic partner who you in some capacity harbor negative feelings towards who you see as a rival. and what does a rival do? a rival challenges you. a caliginous relationship doesnt have to be particularly hateful even, just focused on challenging each other thru your negative feelings of each other. having a kismesis is about committing to mutual improvement, both of yourselves and each other, by continually providing a challenge for the other to overcome.
this is even supported by the text. look at karkats explanation to june about how having a kismesis who *didnt* "possess any qualities you [admire] on some level" is both boring and wouldnt work. the "essence of black romance" is in how you would honestly really like and get along with your kismesis if it werent for all their "infuriating flaws, and the incredible sense of frustration that causes" (p. 7490).
implying that blackrom is inherently unhealthy and pointing to the literal actual examples of *bad* spades relationships as your evidence is as flawed as pointing to an abusive human relationship and therefore deciding that all human romance is inherently unhealthy and abusive. it betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of what youre even talking about. its factually incorrect on a level beyond just being wrong about something. hell its honestly kind of insulting.
kismesissitude is beautiful and healthy as long as you understand what youre getting into and dont rush headfirst into something you genuinely dont even get. its not enough to just hate someone. its not even *about* hating someone. its about *why* you hate them. *why* you feel so strongly negative about them. its about *daring* each other to rise above your faults and learn from them so you can be a stronger, better, healthier person (or non-person if you are not in fact a person).
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seblaineaddict · 7 months
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You Kissed My Flaws...& Made Them Perfect
In a world where every single person has a Soulmate bearing their identical Soulmark and is bound by law to pursue a life with their Soulmate once located, Sebastian and Blaine are gay as a rainbow men from very different countries, who have never met....yet.
Sebastian Smythe is a charming, devilishly handsome (and doesn't he know it!) 30 year-old commitment-phobe still living in his native Paris, where he is an LGBTQ+ Rights Lawyer. He is highly promiscuous, enjoys the finer things in life, especially very expensive Wines and Spirits and First Edition Science Fiction novels, comes from old and new money, and is a bit of a risk taker, to boot.
As far as his 'love life' goes, he pretty exclusively prefers hookups and shuns anything serious, to which end he has never sought out his Soulmate. He really doesn’t see the point, is 100% against people being forced into 'unnatural' liaisons with someone they have never met, just because they share some unremovable (believe me he has tried to remove it - many times!) permanent Body Art that's branded into their skin.. somewhere...on their bodies, and he is determined to challenge, then ultimately overthrow, the Law that decrees you will become bound to your Soulmate from the very second you locate them.
29 year-old jaded (hopeless!) romantic Blaine Anderson is an equally gorgeous (though with a much more dapper and sweet side) Broadway star who lives in Upper Manhattan, New York, and is currently playing Elder Cunningham in The Book Of Mormon. He has had a similarly privileged upbringing to Sebastian, albeit in the US, and is not in the best place in himself. when our story begins
He (spectacularly!) failed to find his Soulmate after a long, long, long and arduous quest to do so, then gave up on men completely after his Fiancé Kurt, with whom he shared a tumultuous, unequal and in truth pretty freaking toxic six year long relationship, finally broke off their engagement. His heart is bruised and battered, and his self-esteem is in tatters, after Kurt slowly but surely eroded the very essence of Blaine and dulled the shine of everything about him that made him so unique and so vibrant….
...then fucked Blaine's co-star and ran off into the sunset with him…
What will happen when (via Grindr - of course!) these two polar opposites discover they are intrinsically and irreversibly linked? Can twin flames bound by law to meet, then pursue a life together, no matter how much the Fates seem to be weighted against them, make a go of things without killing each other in the process? Can an arranged (by law!) relationship ultimately beat the odds and lead to a happy ever after?
Well..you're going to have to read their story to find that out, but rest assured it will not be short on drama, heartache, pining, Angst, laughter, happiness, many hilarious and absolutely NOT so hilarious misunderstandings, and of course…a great deal of good old fashioned…
…hot sex! Oh, yes, and romance and Love of course, too! 😏😉
The unexpected news is - this is actually going to be turned into a fic! Yes..despite still having been unable to update my three ongoing Longfics, due to my increased commitments, I sat down last night to write a short bio to accompany this graphic, and..it took on arms and legs. So yes. A fic it shall become. Either a One-Shot or at most four chapters, but definitely a fic. Soon... And now that I have managed to make time to write, I'm determined to update my other three fics by New Year's Eve! 
Wishing everyone a fantastic 10 Days Of Seblaine, and also an amazing 12th (ahhhhh!) Seblainiversary on 8th November!
10 Days Of Seblaine 2023
6th November 2023 : Day 1: Soulmates/Soulmarks
@seblaineworld
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intrepid-fictioneer-7 · 9 months
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"[Mages] are liminal creatures at odds with their ineradicable humanity". What I spent thousands of words to say in a long ass post, someone managed to say more succintly and far shorter. While my verbous, pompous post argued that the idea the fandom has of a "perfect magus" is reductive and most the characters people think embodify it actually fail, the line I'm quoting is someone arguing that the very concept of "perfect magus" isn't real and isn't represented by *any* character in Type-Moon. The life of a magus is the story of how a person cannot avoid falling short of that ideal of a "perfect magus" - either because it becomes muddled by their humanity (Rin is the quintessential example, but you also have Kayneth and Gordes of all people), or because, in abandoning humanit,y they lose sight of their goal and cause their own downfall (Roa, Zepia, and Zouken being perfect examples).
Kinda like what Medea says in Fate/hollow ataraxia:
"Hmmm, the combination of magic and everyday life. Caster, what do you think about that?" Since I don't know a lot of magi, I'm a little curious. "That though in itself is incorrect, boy. 'Magic' and 'everyday life' cannot coexist. You should not even think about combing them. The fundamentals of magic are "distortion and reversal." No matter what kind of magic it is, when used, it will distort the norm. Therefore, if you want to live correctly, you have to separate magic from normal life." "You can't live in both worlds?" "You must wholly life in both worlds, that is. A magus is someone who crosses that boundary all the time. He is free to focus on either side, but he must never try to erase the line that separates both. In order to fully immerse yourself in magic, you must exclude your normal life. Once you choose that path as a human, you create an inner and an outer face in order to master it. Then you can start deciding how to live as a person divided between magic and real life." "Then what about you? You are Kuzuki-sensei's wife now, but what about your side as a magus?" "It's no different from what it used to be, naturally. I have no doubts about the magus side of myself. I just use my powers as I see fit. But it's true that nowadays, I don't turn into my magus self as often as I have in the past."
Or what Waver says in Case Files:
It wasn’t limited to magecraft. It wasn’t limited to those beyond humans (monsters). In a world of common sense (the obvious), it was something everyone understood. If you said that misunderstandings, miscommunications, disagreements, and false understandings are what connected them, then… “We are misrecognition. Our world itself is misunderstanding. We can experience a multitude of truths, not just one single reality. No matter how wise you are, or how much time you are given, you will never reach something like a single truth. Magi may just be those who continually reject that fact.” Speaking as if in self-deprecation, my master had pursed his lips at that. He had finally realized that his words and the objective that all Magi pursued, known as the “Spiral of Origin,” were in contradiction.
It's why Reines laments the Clock Tower focusing on petty political squabbles. The heart of the world of magecraft miring itself in human emotions and concerns, forgetting their original esoteric goals in the process. This, to me, is far more illustrative of magi than the often repeated "to be a magus means to walk with death". (An aphorism which, as far as I can tell, is mostly the result of fandom telephone. FSN does talk "magus having death right besides them" and "the essence of magi is in death", but the specific formulation of "walking" with death is nowhere in canon I think, and I checked Mahoyo and KnK to make sure. But that's for another post.) Ironically, what spurred this on is that, that post I mention? It was someone arguing Sanda is the *worst* TM writer for how he wrote magi, and I, as Sanda's strongest fighter, had to fight for his honor to mixed results lol.
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sinfulsalutations · 3 months
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Being against Zionism and against antisemitism is a literal oxymoron
i’m surprised it took this long for me to get an anon message saying this.
you misunderstand what zionism is. at least, what zionism has become.
i know what the textbook definition tells me: the idea that jewish people need a safe haven. i do not disagree with that at all. i empathize deeply with the struggles of jewish people, especially when it comes to feeling unwanted or discriminated against. jewish people have been driven out of every place they try to make their home and it is an absolute fact, i can’t refute or deny it.
i understand why you might translate anti-zionism = anti-semitism. zionism is a core ideology of a lot of modern jewish communities, and i’ve had the privilege to be apart of programs to get to know more of my local jewish community and learn this. many believe the same thing, and don’t realize why i take the stance that im anti-zionist.
zionism for many jewish people means hope, peace, a safe haven where they feel home and truly connected to their people and religion.
but zionism for me means eradication, erasure, apartheid, oppression, massacre, genocide. my entire life, zionism and its active carrying out has been a direct attack on me and my family, a wide spread belief that we don’t belong in the place we’ve raised our children and built our homes.
zionism is a word that means different things for different people, but for me it means that. and when i say im against zionism i am against the active movement that it has become, not the essence of the idea.
the strive for a safe haven for jewish people did not have to entail entire eradication of a people, and if you think otherwise, you are actively ignoring the reality of what zionism has done.
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