#·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚the goddess speaks˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dawneternal · 2 days

Text

The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Three

☁︎ notes: sorry it took so long to get this one out 💛

Clementia really is the goddess of mercy and healing but I made up the part about the feathers. There will be more half real/half made up references to mythology so buckle in lol also Eris is kind of Cardan-coded in this chapter

☁︎ warnings: talk of injuries, talk of Beron's abuse, drunk characters

☁︎ word count: 1.9k

☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ tags: @cauldronblssd @mybestfriendmademe @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove

The ring summoned Aya again nearly a week later, just as she had finally made it back to her dorm room in the Healer’s wing. Lessons had run late, after which she had been called to a family dinner by Thesan. Her feet were sore and the pair of clean pajamas waiting on her bed called to her. Her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of what sort of injuries had prompted that ring to glow, regret sinking its claws deeper into her gut. Another long night of keeping Eris’s soul tethered to his being?

She heaved a deep sigh, shouldered her bag once more, and winnowed away from her cozy room.

The designated winnow spot was in Edana’s private courtyard, surrounded on all four sides by her rooms. The Lady had carved a spot out of the wards - or had bribed someone to do it. Edana or one of her two trusted guards were to wait for Aya in the courtyard. The written copy of the bargain details instructed that if anyone else were to ever greet her, she was to winnow back to the Dawn Court without speaking to them.

All very calming, naturally.

Tonight, one of Edana’s guards met Aya in the courtyard, which she considered a good sign. The guard did not say anything, only nodded in greeting before turning on his heel. Aya shivered in the Autumn chill and trailed after him. No one had told Aya the guards’ names yet, and she was too shy to ask. They were a little intimidating, stone-faced and armed to the teeth. Obviously, they cared about Edana's safety a great deal, and she had not stopped to wonder what they thought of the Lady hiring a strange healer and adding her piece to this hidden game board.

The dark-haired man led her through Edana’s sitting room to the stone passageways. She followed him through the dim, winding halls, finding them to be as deathly silent as the first night. She was beginning to wonder if the whole house had a curfew, or if they had all simply adopted this code of silence as a means of survival. Everything had been tainted such a suspicious color after that first night.

His feet made no sound against the stone floor, even in those heavy, clunky-soled boots. Aya followed suit, keeping her steps light, though her satin slippers would not have made much noise anyways.

When she crossed through the wards into Eris’s rooms, a wall of commotion wrapped itself around her, such a contrast from the silent hall that it made her jump. Eris was cursing and arguing with his mother, the second guard attempting to aid her in holding him down. Aya’s widened eyes flicked to the couch by the hearth where a bruised and bleeding man lay unconscious. Or sleeping. He was nearly a copy of Eris - redheaded and tall, with broader shoulders and bulky muscles.

“They got drunk and had a fight,” Edana sighed as Aya made her way to the big bed.

“Bastard had it coming,” Eris spat loudly, trying again to free his arm from his mother’s grasp."

“Stay still,” Edana snapped, “You were stabbed, for Mother’s sake.”

Aya gasped at that, and Eris turned his head toward the sound. He had not even noticed her come in, too focused on earning his freedom. When his gaze landed on the healer he let out a cry of delight and held a bloody hand toward her without even so much as wincing.

“All is well,” Eris pronounced, “Clementia has arrived.”

“Hush,” Edana hissed, “Or your father will hear you.”

Aya’s skin felt hot, her stomach dropping in fear of the knowledge that the High Lord was at home tonight. She chewed her lip and set her satchel on the edge of the bed. Eris was still as a statue now, watching her with interest.

“Clementia is an angel of mercy,” Edana said to Aya, rolling her eyes as other guard chuckled. “He likes to read mythology.”

Aya’s cheeks burned and she looked down at the heir, his amber eyes fixed on her. She shook her head and grabbed a wet rag from the side table. She was familiar with Clementia’s legend but she had not made the connection of who Eris thought she was.

“Did you receive my prayer of thanks?” Eris asked, a hand clutched to his chest like he must brace himself in her presence. He still did not wince as she pulled up his shirt and began to clean his injury. It was shallow for a stab wound, but it certainly would not heal well if he started thrashing around again. She could humor him if it meant he stayed calm.

The second guard, blond and bearded, started to laugh at Eris’s smitten gaze, but Edana shot him a look that shut him up. The Lady turned her attention to her other son, out cold on the couch.

“Yes,” Aya said to Eris, gently moving away the hand that attempted to cover his wound. His bloody fingers wrapped around hers and held on. It was likely he was so drunk that he was not feeling the full effect of his injury. “It was lovely. Please stay still, Eris.”

“Yes, angel,” Eris breathed.

Aya kept her eyes on her work and did not dare look at the glowering Lady or her giggling guardian. She knew it sounded like a pet name. But she didn’t think she minded much, not with how lovely it sounded falling from his lips.

Eris stayed quiet now, obedient to her every command. He watched her with such reverence in his eyes, as if still surprised she had appeared, worried she may go away again at any moment. If only he knew she was just another healer from the Dawn Court, no benevolent angel of mercy.

She wondered if he’d ever truly know her or if all of their meetings would be this way - inebriated or delusional from blood loss. And she hoped for both their sakes that the next time would be different. And maybe a part of her hoped to meet him in a state where she could really learn something about him. Something to compare to the rumors. All she knew at the moment was that he liked mythology. And that he fought like a hellcat when drunk.

“Beron would not approve of them fighting, would he?” She asked as she worked, her voice soft. Every movement tracked by those diligent amber eyes.

“Not in this manner, no,” Lady Edana answered, returning to Eris's bedside, “Not without his command, at least. He sees more honor in besting each other with strategy.”

Of course he would. Only Beron’s hand could inflict pain. That was how he stayed in control. Everyone else must impress him by playing his games perfectly. Aya had never expected to gain so much knowledge about the Autumn Court’s High Family and everything she learned made her more grateful for her own court and Thesan’s gentle rule. It also illuminated another aspect of Edana's secrecy.

This foolish behavior was a stark contrast to the tales and rumors of the Autumn sons, with their father’s brutality and their mother's brains. It certainly dimmed the intimidation to see that hulking brother passed out, mouth open and drooling on the velvet couch. Whatever Aya saw gave her power. And that golden ring took it away again. Edana did not yet know that she had picked someone with such an ambivalent heart. Capable of indifference and yet undecided.

When Aya finished dressing Eris’s wound and cleaning his filthy hands, she slipped a sleeping pill into his water and gave his shoulder a pat.

“Sleep well Eris,” She said, eager to get away from his relentless stare. Then she turned back and added sharply, “And listen to your mother.”

She shifted, about to make her way to the brother on the couch, but Eris’s voice stopped her.

“May I have a feather?” He asked, his voice remarkably soft compared to his terrible volume control from before.

“What?” Aya asked, hoping their audience did not notice the break in her voice. She knew the myth. That Clementia bestowed a feather upon her favored for luck.

“May I have a feather for luck?” He asked again, the gleam in his eye so hopeful it was almost painful.

For a moment, she considered it. It wouldn’t mean much, it would quiet him down and that would be that. But the weight of the Dawn Court customs would not release her. The tips of her ears grew hot, thinking of plucking a feather and handing it to him. Feathers were for honor, promises, and love. Even in the far friendlier, casual environment of her court, it wouldn't be seen as appropriate.

“You’re lucky enough just to be in her presence, you oaf,” Edana muttered, shaking Aya from her stupor. Eris frowned but he didn’t argue. He looked resigned, like he agreed with his mother's sentiment.

Aya silently thanked Edana and turned her attention toward the couch once more. The brother was not in terrible shape, with just a scattering of bruises and small cuts that would heal by morning. Luckily, he was far too drunk to remember anything by tomorrow. She hoped that Eris would not remember any of this either.

She had not failed to notice Eris’s split knuckles and she wondered what this brother had said to provoke him so. She might have asked, as they had humored all of her questions so far. But it seemed that neither Lady Edana nor her guards wanted to meet her eye as she inspected the younger Vanserra. As if there was something about this fight they were not saying. Or perhaps they were just embarrassed.

Aya told herself she did not care either way. She had decided, throughout the course of this visit, not to ask any more prying questions or sleuth or try to solve anything. She could not help her curiosity, but Thesan had ordered her not to meddle. And every answer to every question sat heavy like a stone in her heart. She did not want to carry all of that with her, anyways. So she finished patching up the anonymous brother, left a tonic one for the now-sleeping Eris, and returned to the comfort of the Dawn Court.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The next morning, Eris’s shame pestered him as incessantly as his headache. Twice now, this poor healer had had to witness him in such a pathetic state. Gods knew what he had said last night. His mother wouldn’t tell him. She told him it was his punishment for being so foolish that he had to wonder what embarrassing things he may have said.

The only hint he got was in the note the healer had left him, beside a tin of fresh balm for his scars and a tonic for the hangover.

Drink lots of water, avoid stretching your wound. I look forward to your next prayer of thanks.

Your angel,

Aya

Eris blushed and cursed himself for it. He hadn’t known her name and had gotten into the habit of referring to her as Clementia in his mind. It must have slipped out.

He remembered little glimpses of what she looked like. Warm brown skin, eyes of lilac-grey, and small, capable hands. His fingers went to the wound in his side. Once again, he had been healed impeccably. This one had left a scar barely an inch long.

He had yet to thank her for all that she’d done and he wished that he could. But he did not know where to reach her or what a proper gift might look like.

Without him even realizing, without even having property met, she had begun to haunt his thoughts. Like a guardian angel, only a shadow of wings at the edge of his vision.

42 notes · View notes

astral-mariner · 2 days

Text

Vegeta's Mother Headcanons/Backstory (with Lots of Saiyan Culture Worldbuilding)

As promised to @blueper-saiyan, here is the backstory I've made up for Vegeta's mom and some of the royal family! I've literally thought about writing a saiyan Game of Thrones style fic about how King Vegeta came to power and how Vegeta's mother became queen. If, after reading some of the backstory, such a fic sounds fun to read, I might write it someday. Let me know!

(This post came up as part of a wider discussion about saiyan cultural/religious differences. Read here if you're interested, but the post will only enhance this one, and you don't need to read it for the backstory to make sense.)

To begin with some general information about how royal succession functions: There are four nations on Vegeta-sei, each with their own lands and cultural identities. When the heir to the throne reaches an age equal to three cycles of Vegeta-sei's moon (25 Earth years, roughly), they are bound to one consort from each nation. These consorts are within one moon cycle of the heir's age and can be any sex; measured strength at birth/assigned social class determines who is selected. (Anyone, however, can challenge the selected consort for their right to be bound to the heir apparent. If the challenger defeats the one originally selected in a duel, the challenger then becomes the new consort.) The "wedding" itself takes place in the weeks leading up to the first nights of the full moon after the heir turns 25.

The role of royal consort is a political one as much as it is about producing heirs for the royal family. Indeed, the consorts are not always reproductively compatible with the heir apparent. (This plays into another web of headcanons I have: gender/sex isn't really a big deal in saiyan cultures; they care far more about class/strength, and even the way they speak reflects this. Saiyago refers to people by class and not by sex/gender; there are no gendered pronouns.) The consorts function, essentially, as representatives for their nations. They are the highest ranking nobles/elites of their respective countries. The position comes with considerable political power and influence. There are motives, then, for someone to want to become a royal consort even if they cannot produce children with the heir.

Obviously, though, producing royal children is one of the main purposes of a consort. Those that are reproductively compatible with the heir are expected to engage in the necessary activities. And the consort who provides the crown with the strongest child assumes the title of king/queen consort, granting both that consort and the nation they represent special privileges, power, and influence. So even if there are motives for someone to want to be a consort regardless of reproductive compatibility, compatible consorts are preferred most of the time, and incompatible ones are often challenged. (Or, alternatively, certain conniving nobles might manipulate power level/class archives to ensure the person they want is "chosen by the gods" to stand at the side of the crown. Lots of fun GoT style shit here.)

So this brings us to Vegeta's mother:

She was the strongest (still living) saiyan born in one of the four nations within an appropriate age range to the heir apparent. Specifically, she is from the nation of people who occupy a collection of islands near one of the planet's poles. As mentioned in the long post I linked, this nation centers Oozaru transformation in their cultural/spiritual consciousness as opposed to SSJ transformation. The primal beast vs. the Enlightened Warrior. People from her country speak of a special bond to the moon goddess because, due to their location at the pole, they experience seasonal polar night. Whole seasons of nothing but the moonlit sky, and alternatively, seasons where they are waiting for the goddess rule the sky again.

And because they center the more wild, primal, and impassioned transformation, they are at odds with the culture in the royal city and the (most populous and influential) nation that surrounds it that centers SSJ transformation which is, supposedly, passionless and enlightened (in the Eastern sense). The unique cultural practices, powers, and techniques the people from Vegeta's mother's lands boast are therefore looked upon with skepticism by most other saiyans. Most saiyans don't know what to do with this essentially foreign group of people from sparsely populated polar isles who have strange ways. Some of them are even rumored to sense ki without scouters. The most powerful of them can even dissolve the borders of their mind as happens under the moonlight so they can communicate to others without speaking, soul to soul. (It's mild telepathy, basically. Speaking with the mind, being able to share thoughts/dreams; very skilled people might even be able to read others' minds in a limited capacity.)

And Vegeta's mother is one of those exceptionally gifted saiyans from this country/culture. But nobody cares or finds out about this until later. Because...King Vegeta was not the original heir to whom she would've been betrothed. The saiyan who became King Vegeta was a weaker/lesser royal child. One of his sisters, however, was the crown princess. And she was batshit insane.

King Vegeta's sister was exceptionally cruel. Even for a saiyan. And she came from a long line of rulers who were almost as cruel and insane as she was. Her lineage, in fact, is part of the reason saiyans are infamous throughout the galaxy. She and other corrupt royals/elites don't fight because fighting is what saiyans do. They don't fight for the sake of itself. They fight to shed blood, to kill, to revel in others' pain, destruction, and misery. The sadism is the point, not the art and joy of fighting. And they don't kill in a cold, unattached way. They rape and pillage because they are consumed with bloodlust, they get off on hurting others, and they are strong enough that few can stop them.

(Another topic I could write a whole other long post about: There is certainly considerable disagreement among different saiyan cultures about what their "fighting nature" actually entails. Is it about the excellence in craft? Is it about spiritual enlightenment? Is it about feeling at one with the body, the opponent, and the universe? Or...is it about defeating and destroying your rival? Is it about being the strongest? Is it about pain and domination? There are competing narratives for what the Ideal Saiyan looks like and about how that saiyan would fight. For someone like King Vegeta's sister, she and most of her family lean more towards fighting-for-domination/bloodlust because power has gone to their heads and warped them into something monstrous.)

And (not yet) King Vegeta sees all of this, and because he's one of the weaker children of his family, he faces considerable abuse. Naturally, he tries to prove himself by showing exceptional cruelty of his own, waging wars and conquering planets... But he never actually wins the approval of his family or the rest of the elite class. He becomes somewhat estranged. He comes to resent and look down on his parents and his sister especially. He sees their monstrous ways and turns away from them not because he sees their actions as evil, but because he comes to see their hearts as impure. He listens to the words and warnings of religious extremists around the royal city's temples who condemn the nobility for their impassioned bloodlust where they should instead be cold and tranquil when they fight. He becomes a bit of a fanatic himself.

Then his sister reaches the age where she's to be bound to consorts. And the moon festival is approaching and therefore her "wedding." She doesn't treat the consorts chosen for her like the esteemed nobles they are, however. She captures them and tortures them publicly to put fear in the hearts of everyone in their countries. On the night of her "wedding," she makes a humiliating display of them in the royal city's moon temple. It's pretty obvious that, once the ceremony is performed, she's intending to rape her consorts and perhaps kill the ones who can't provide children for her. Vegeta's mother is one of these consorts.

Vegeta's father is fucking disgusted by all of this. His sister is doing something absolutely sacrilege. She's using power in the most impure way possible, and she's literally desecrating altars doing so. It sets him the fuck off. He's watching the beginnings of the "wedding ceremony," but it's the last straw. While everyone's caught up in what's happening, he comes to the front of the temple and blasts his sister straight through the heart before she can touch any of the consorts, killing her instantly. And he doesn't stop there. He goes positively feral and kills every single member of the royal family while everyone is too shocked or drunk/high to defeat him even though he's not the strongest based on power level alone.

Covered in the blood of the king, queen, and all of his siblings, Vegeta's father calls upon any "righteous" saiyan to purge the royal lands of corruption. Certain religious extremists are all too happy to oblige (the tailless ascetic order from the other post is certainly included here). They begin with powerful elite families known to be close to the crown, murdering their figureheads and heirs. And even some lower-class saiyans join in on the bloodshed. Many of them despise the royal family and the elite nobility for degrading and abusing them. (Some particularly wicked nobles make slaves of low-class saiyans, treating them like aliens/animals; some of them even take children from low-class families to slake their most despicable lusts. While might-makes-right may be pretty commonplace in saiyan culture, I think it's still extremely feasible that those who get the short end of that stick would come to acknowledge that power does not justify every action, and that, especially among low-class saiyans, things like rape and murder of other saiyans are seen as traumatic and wrong as well as shameful acts to commit most of the time.)

The nights of the full moon, then, become a massive fucking bloodbath. Vegeta's father and those loyal to him massacre pretty much half of the nobility. And he, naturally, assumes the throne after the moon festival is over. He is at once respected and feared. He maintains his religious fanaticism and imposes it on the nobility. In some ways, he is just as iron-fisted and cruel as his predecessors, but it has an entirely different flavor. He follows the laws to the letter, taking them very seriously and giving them intense spiritual weight. He strives to emulate the model of the SSJ Enlightened Warrior and considers it his calling as dictated by the gods because they appointed him king.

And while he's not morally "good" by any stretch, and his religion/philosophy definitely leads him to commit some truly heinous acts, he's nevertheless "better" in many ways than his sister or his parents. Nobles who, for example, would have before taken low-class children to abuse are instead punished severely and pay dearly for their "impurity." (It kind of makes sense that someone like King Vegeta who faced significant childhood abuse from his family would consider taking advantage of certain kinds of vulnerable people to be weak and shameful---a corruption of strength.) And while King Vegeta isn't necessarily loved by all low-class saiyans, he's probably more popular than many of his predecessors were. Yes, he still ships off weak children, he still enforces the strict caste system (perhaps even more strictly than those before him too), and he still conquers planets and seeks out powerful opponents to destroy, but he does it with a certain spiritual sincerity.

Then it becomes time for him to take consorts. He's in a pretty unique situation where he's already king before he's "married." After the murder of his sister on her "wedding night," he frees the consorts from their bondage and tells them they can return to their homelands until the gods call upon them to perform their duties. They are more than happy to get the fuck out of the royal city for a while, naturally. But when the next moon festival is approaching, those selected are asked to return. One or two of the consorts his sister would've "wed" had perhaps fallen in battle, but most of them are the same, including Vegeta's mother.

Vegeta's mother and her homeland had been happy, initially, that she hadn't been reproductively compatible with the original heir, King Vegeta's sister. The moon-worshiping people wanted as little to do with the royal city as possible so they could govern their own lands in relative isolation. Now, however, her position as consort carries with it an implicit obligation.

In the years leading up to the next moon festival, Vegeta's mother of course visits the royal city a number of times given that she's an important noble personality. But she doesn't spend most of her time there and only goes when absolutely necessary. She crosses paths with the king, naturally, but avoids him if she can. She remembers, however, the night where he, essentially, saved both her life and her honor (though this was not his primary reason for freeing her). Even so, she's been bracing for the king to go insane like his predecessors. Perhaps bracing herself for him to force himself on her in some way. She doesn't trust him. She doesn't trust anyone outside of her homeland.

But the king is strictly business with her even if he does watch her. She's mysterious; he hardly sees her. She doesn't look like many other people in the royal city. She has different manners, beliefs, and even speaks a different dialect of Saiyago (though she can code-switch and speak the standard royal city dialect as well). She has a small, very feminine frame despite having a very formidable power level. It makes her more terrifying in some ways---that her power comes to her effortlessly, that she doesn't need physical strength or size to wield as much might as she does. She is regarded as extremely beautiful and is compared even to depictions of the moon goddess. Her being from the moon-worshiping polar isles reinforces this connection as well; she has an air of pagan magic about her, and her beauty as well as her strange ways/fighting techniques have this spellbinding or bewitching quality to them in saiyan cultural consciousness.

And her beauty, mystery, and foreign background make her the subject of scorn among many nobles throughout the royal lands. They don't want a pagan queen. Especially since the nobles that remain are ones that are more in line with the religious fanaticism of King Vegeta. The king has very recently purged the nobility of corrupt heretics, people who gave themselves over to shameful bloodlust and made no attempt to purify their hearts and live up to the Saiyan Ideal. And the prospect of having someone who is all about losing yourself and becoming the wild Oozaru become their queen is threatening. Many assume, too, that King Vegeta simply won't favor Vegeta's mother for these political reasons and will instead produce heirs with his other consorts.

That doesn't stop King Vegeta from developing a huge fucking crush on her, though. She's drop-dead gorgeous and incredibly powerful. She doesn't fawn over him or try to win his favor. She steers clear of him, and when they do have to interact, she doesn't filter her foreign/pagan sensibilities whatsoever to be pleasing. She always approaches him as herself and comes off strong. She even outright opposes or argues with him when matters of governance/policy arise. She makes very clear that her people don't care for the traditional caste system or how children are measured for their power at birth. She reminds him that the strongest and most wise of her people can sense hidden abilities in others' souls that scouters can't capture with a mere number.

Ironically, though, Vegeta's mother approaching King Vegeta sincerely as herself makes him fall for her even harder. Those precious few times she sees him in the royal city become almost special occasions for him; he waits for her, he looks forward to seeing her even if he's out of touch with it. He relishes their philosophical debates. As someone who takes his "divine" calling very seriously, he admires her own spiritual passion and sincerity even though they disagree on some basic things and have very different ideas about what the Ideal Saiyan looks/fights like. He makes excuses to talk to her and spend time with her. He probably even constructs situations where he is forced to consider her political input. He desires her and feels that the gods gave their blessing for him to desire her by choosing her for him. She, however, rejects even the smallest advances very strongly. And he, nothing like his sister in this respect, does not punish her or pressure her to accept him. He carries on with his other royal duties.

As the moon festival and therefore the official royal "wedding" approaches, however, Vegeta's mother eventually refuses even to attend the ceremony. (Makes sense, after all---last time, an insane princess meant to torture, rape, and murder her.) Many elites encourage other people from the polar isles to challenge her, replacing her with someone who will not shirk their duties. Elites hostile to the moon-worshipers call for her capture and possible execution. King Vegeta, though, requests only that she attend the ceremony if no one will challenge her and vows that she may return to her homeland once it is over, and neither he nor anyone will touch her under pain of death. She eventually accepts this offer. Her limited interactions with the king have at least shown her that he is generally a man of his word, and she will be able to maintain her political influence over him while getting to stay in her homeland and not fear retribution.

The ceremony takes place and is a very somber affair. Think the most traditional, by-the-book royal wedding ever (just with more fighting because they are saiyans). Vegeta's mother returns to the polar isles the very night the ceremony is over, though, as the moon festival nights are sacred to her people, and she has no desire to spend them in the royal city. The king lets her go as promised. The other nations are happy to see her go, as the more time the king spends with his other consorts, the higher the likelihood that the consort that represents them becomes queen. The king does indeed spend the first few nights in the royal city as expected. But...he does something scandalous before the moon festival is over.

He goes to the polar isles. He participates in some of their festival activities (ritual Oozaru transformations, battles, hunts, and sacrifices). He frames it as a gesture of political good will, saying that he will be a king to all saiyans no matter their nation or favored gods/goddesses. He strives to live up to the example of his Super Saiyan ancestors and will seek strength and wisdom in whatever form the gods will reveal it to him. Even if it means listening to pagan moon-worshipers and hearing what they have to say, what knowledge and power they have to impart. He means it sincerely, but his gesture was obviously inspired by his preoccupation with Vegeta's mother.

He doesn't make any attempt to get close to her personally, but he does transform under the moon with her. And afterwards, when some time has passed and he asks her to come to the royal city, she accepts.

She tells herself it's in service to her nation. Not in many generations have they had the crown at their mercy like this. She knows she has the power to influence how saiyan life itself is ordered. She still may not want to give King Vegeta a child or become queen, but she does want to take advantage of the opportunity his favor affords her.

She's there when Freeza and King Cold first contact the saiyans. It's obvious to anyone who was in direct contact with Freeza just how powerful he is, how much manipulative leverage he holds... But Vegeta's mother can sense something is deeply off about him and the entire situation. She's fully aware that Freeza will straight up destroy everyone if they don't enter his service. And she doesn't have the same delusional pride that the king does. She knows he's going to have to bend the knee if they mean to survive. It's because of her influence that King Vegeta doesn't enter a doomed war with Freeza at the start. She helps him acclimate the people to their new "alliance"---emphasizes better access to technology like scouters, healing tanks, ships, and incubation pods. She's a much better and more natural ruler than King Vegeta is, in fact. She brings a certain "humanity" (saiyanity?) to the role---it's about safeguarding the people and their way of life, not about proving that she personally is the strongest.

Naturally, this pivotal political role she plays brings her and King Vegeta closer together. She'd already been developing feelings for him slowly. She already knew he was different after he killed his entire family and spared her from their wickedness. And as she got to know him better, she really came to admire his own sincerity just as he admired hers. They are both deeply spiritual people even though they have different beliefs, and they have an understanding of each other. And the time they spent under the moonlight together was, after all, quite romantic even if saiyans don't really have "romance" the way humans do.

She admits to herself after a while that she's attracted to him. Sure, part of her definitely enjoys being queen in all but actual title. She enjoys how hopelessly this extremely powerful and austere man bends to her every whim and worships her as if she were actually the moon goddess herself and had indeed bewitched him like all the rumors say she has. Even against his better political judgment or his religious sensibilities. He can't help but revere and admire her. You know, saiyans having a thing for strong women.

She's the one who goes to him first. She tells herself initially that it's merely to consolidate her power, her hold on the king. He, of course, can't resist her and just completely fucking melts for her when she commands him to meet her in her bedchambers. But it's clear that it's neither about duty nor politics as they continue to be intimate. They are in love with each other. They connect on a soul level.

She eventually does become pregnant, though it is no guarantee that she will become queen even if she does provide the crown with a child. She would have to produce the strongest child to be crowned queen, after all, and sometimes which child is strongest does not become apparent until later. But...when Vegeta is born, he's leagues ahead of the other children that had been born already (he has a number of half-siblings). He's the strongest royal child born as far as the archives go back. It's unprecedented, but he's named heir to the throne immediately, and his mother assumes the title of queen at the same time he is named crown prince.

That Vegeta's mother bore him such a powerful son just makes King Vegeta fall that much more in love with her. He takes it as a sign, even, that the gods rewarded him for his piety. That he had done the right thing by murdering his entire family (as much as it still hurt to do, deep down, even if he'd never admit it). That perhaps his son was born so strong because the two sides of saiyan nature were for once at harmony with each other, the Oozaru and the Super Saiyan, just as he, descended from the Super Saiyans, learned to love and fight alongside his moon-worshiping consort. He dares to hope that maybe Prince Vegeta will become strong enough to overthrow Freeza and cast off the shame of servitude.

But there's trouble in paradise. The nobles from the other nations are absolutely appalled that the moon-worshiper from the tiny, pagan population of the polar isles has become queen. Many of them do actually think that she put the king under a spell to do her bidding. They don't like that her battle partner, Nappa, was originally low-class (but elevated once the queen came to the royal city---another cultural difference; it's not as taboo for nobles to have low-class partners in the polar isles because their caste sensibilities are not as strict). The fact that the king bent the knee to Freeza just makes things worse. He's weak. He'll lead them to ruin. He's easily manipulated. He listened to a sorceress instead of his own integrity and pride by submitting to Freeza where he should have instead gone to war and proven his strength as his ancestors did before him.

There's unrest among the lower-class saiyans too. Freeza ships them off to faraway planets for degrading assignments. He takes saiyan children to his planet, and they never return. They hate Freeza even if they are encouraged to be grateful for the battles and resources the Planet Trade affords them. They resent the royal family even if the prince is so strong that they can't help but be inspired.

Several elites challenge the queen to fight. She proves victorious each time, however. And this only infuriates her detractors and rivals even more. Eventually, there are plots to dispose of her via less than honorable means. There are assassination attempts. Those that are caught are of course tortured and executed. But...sadly, one of the attempts succeeds. The queen falls ill, and poison is suspected. She begins to deteriorate rapidly, but she doesn't die immediately. Her body resists the illness, and she lingers for a time even if she knows that, ultimately, her death will be inevitable and painful.

King Vegeta, understandably, goes on a fucking rampage. But there's a distraction. Freeza attends a tournament to decide who will become Prince Vegeta's battle partner, and he finds Prince Vegeta himself to be rather remarkable. Soon afterwards, he demands that King Vegeta send the prince to "visit" him on his home planet. He wants to take the prince in and mentor him as a mark of the "friendship" between Vegeta-sei and the Cold Empire.

The queen, however, does not want to give her son over to Freeza. She fucking knows how that will go down. She can feel it. Vegeta will be examined, experimented on, tortured, treated as a pet and a slave. She doubts that the SSJ legends are even real; she's of the opinion that it's just another interpretation of the Oozaru. So she's under no illusion that Vegeta will transform and save them all from Freeza at just the right moment. She knows he's just a little boy at the end of the day, however strong he is already.

Plus...she knows she's dying, and she doesn't want her son taken away from her. She doesn't want her last days to be spent knowing she gave him over to a monster. But at the same time...she also knows that, if Freeza doesn't take Vegeta, then it will put the entire planet in danger. She takes a page from the king's book and tells herself that she'll have to set her personal feelings aside to do what is rational even if it isn't quite right. So she requests only that the king doesn't let Freeza take Vegeta until after she's gone.

The king, meanwhile, is in fucking denial that she's dying at all. He doesn't want to believe it. He's caught up in his feelings about it. He's caught up, too, in the fear and dread their oh-so-tenuous relationship with Freeza is. He says he'll go to war with Freeza. That he won't let him take their son at all. But they both know that they have to. He copes with it by telling both himself and Vegeta that Freeza's "mentorship" and the opportunities his assignments will afford will make him stronger, will perhaps move him to transform when the time is right. The king doesn't explain to the child what he's really in for, just that he must be strong above all else. Vegeta's mother, though, probably tries to warn him in some capacity, as far as he is able to understand (he's about 4 Earth years old at this point).

Freeza, though, comes to collect Vegeta unannounced sooner than anyone expected. He is forcibly taken from his mother. She puts up a fight, but it's useless, and Vegeta ultimately goes to Freeza's home planet to begin his servitude. The queen dies soon afterwards, and when Vegeta returns to Vegeta-sei for the last time before the planet is destroyed, his mother is gone. He never got to see her again after the day he was taken away.

King Vegeta is consumed with grief and anger. He acts according to his worst impulses. Wages reckless wars, tortures people just to watch them suffer. It doesn't help that the person who was the actual political mastermind behind his regime (the queen) is gone. His rule is messy, and he becomes increasingly unhinged. He probably tries to make an incredibly stupid final stand. His actions certainly accelerate Freeza's plan to destroy him and the rest of the saiyans. And this is where all of this backstory catches up with where we meet young Vegeta in canon.

Anyway! There you have it, an epic backstory for Vegeta's mom and the royal family.

I made all of this up to be background stuff in my fic, but it's not just that. It's also there to show some of the internal conflicts going on in young Vegeta's character. He's caught between living up to the legends of his ancestors and his personal feelings just as his parents represent these two opposing interpretations of saiyan nature. He doesn't quite know how to reconcile these things within himself. His first years with Freeza, too, are colored by the loss of his mother and his father's becoming particularly strict and power-obsessed as a result of her death. This background story is in the fic is also there to tell the reader things about how saiyans conceptualize things like "romantic" relationships, what they consider beautiful. Besides all the stuff about religion, spirituality, and how saiyans construct morality, meaning, and enlightenment.

I hope this was fun to read!

#vegeta #king vegeta #saiyan queen #headcanons #saiyan lore

34 notes · View notes

tribow · 3 days

Note

How does touhou Kanako show her spirit animals notable Snake traits? Suwako represents the frog. How do I look at her as the Snake as in aesthetic speaking?

Funnily enough, this is actually a common misconception with the canon. The snakes technically have nothing to do with Kanako, those belong to Suwako.

The snakes are called "Mishaguji". They're curse gods that Suwako tamed during her time as the only goddess of the Moriya Shrine. When Kanako took over, she still needed Suwako's assistance since she could not control the Mishaguji. If Kanako didn't ask for help, she would likely be constantly fighting the Mishaguji to prevent them from cursing the land and destroying harvest. Not an easy task. I'm sure Kanako would love to have all her followers believe she is controlling the Mishaguji, but the credit all goes to Suwako.

The Mishaguji are probably a lot weaker than they were in the past, but they're still around. Suwako still uses them in her spellcards. (Notably, Kanako has never used them.).

So you might be wondering, if Suwako is the powerful frog that tamed the snakes, why the heck is Kanako the "Snake"? Why is there so much art depicting Kanako with snakes?

Don't worry, you're not being pranked by fanon this time.

ZUN said in an interview that Kanako is based on two gods: Takeminakata and Yasakatome. These two gods are housed in the real life Grand Suwa Shrine.

Takeminakata is worshipped as a god of wind, water, war, and agriculture. This is very similar to Kanako. As for Yasakatome, her folklore is a bit all over the place so it's hard to pin her down. She's mostly associated with water. Kanako's first name; Yasaka, is derived from Yasakatome.

What's important is that both of these gods have been depicted as snakes in folklore. (sometimes specifically a water serpent). This is where Kanako's symbolism with snakes come from. When Takeminakata is depicted in other japanese media, it's a bit common to use snakes to symbolize him. (Dragons are also an association with him, but we're talking about snakes here).

Kanako and Suwako's backstory heavily resemble a specific piece of Takeminakata's folklore. He conquered the Suwa region by defeating the local gods of the area. The most famous battle was against Moreya, whose iron weapons were defeated by Takeminakata's wisteria vine. (wisteria is a plant. A flowering vine.)

Sound familiar?

Moreya still has his own shrine called the Moriya Shrine. Yup, that's right it's a real place and not something ZUN made up. However, if you look into it, Moreya isn't depicted as a frog. Where the heck did that come from?

Well, Takeminakata has another piece of folklore with a frog involved. He calmed the waves of the raging seas by defeating a frog god. This story commonly depicts him as a snake as well. (Snakes eat frogs in real life!) The frog in this story is sometimes interpreted as one of the local gods, which could be the Mishaguji or Moreya.

"The Mishaguji"??? Aren't they the snakes in Touhou? Well...yes! It's just that they're local gods just like Moreya was and...and....we're in too deep!

Folklore is commonly spread through word of mouth! It's a mythological game of telephone! The details can change based on who is telling the story! I haven't even told you the many other names Takeminataka goes by. If I went over all the nuance with the folklore and its connections to Touhou this would be a gargantuan post!

Ignoring that, what's important is that this is where Kanako's symbolism with snakes come from. Even if she doesn't control the snakes of the Moriya shrine, Kanako IS the snake that defeated the powerful frog and conquered its land.

#touhou #kanako yasaka #suwako moriya #ask #folklore #you have given me an excuse to talk about folklore and that's one of my favorite topics #sorry if you were expecting a short answer lol #japanese folklore is so fun to research since it's fairly well documented #i wish native american folklore was as easy to research. It's just as interesting #and yes i do have headcanons

32 notes · View notes

howlingday · 3 days

Text

MORTAL... YOU DARE CALL ME FORTH YET AGAIN? HAVE I NOT SATED YOUR FILL? HAVE I NOT BLESSED YOU ENOUGH WITH MY GIFTS? WHY MUST YOU ANGER YOUR GODDESS SO? HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN SO QUICKLY? I AM SI'ENA, GODDESS OF THE ANIMALS, THE SHADOW WHO CREEPS, AND YOU WILL RUE THIS DAY! LITTLE CUB, YOU TREAD INTO DANGEROUS TERRITORY. KNOW THAT EACH TIME I AM SUMMONED, MY FURY ONLY GROWS. YOU WILL SUFFER IN WAYS UNSEEN BY ANY IN YOUR TIME. NOW, CHOOSE YOUR NEXT WORDS WISELY... WHAT MORE COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT OF ME? SPEAK!

Blake: (Gulps) I... I am here to stop you from hurting another soul! I'm sending you back to the other plane from which you came, one way or another!

Sienna: (Normal) R-Really?

Blake: Uh... Yeah?

Sienna: Oh, finally~! I thought this nightmare was going to last forever!

Blake: Wait, aren't you trying to stop me?

Sienna: Hell no! Get me the hell out of here!

#rwby #sucker for love #sucker for love: date to die for #date to die for #sienna khan #blake belladonna

33 notes · View notes

persevereforahappyending · 7 hours

Text

Maybe in Another Life |7|

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader

Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.

Warnings: Spoilers for Titans Curse

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch.6 | ch. 7

You were sitting on the edge of a cliff that hung over the lake at Camp Half-Blood. After talking to Artemis, you went back to the cabin and informed your sisters about Zoe. After telling them to be at the top of the hill and ready to leave by sunrise you left. You had been sitting on the cliff’s edge looking up at the stars ever since. You didn’t have a lot of stuff; your bag was never unpacked so you were ready to go the second Artemis came to you. You were going to take the few hours before sunrise to grieve, alone. You loved your sisters, but you had been at Zoe’s side for a thousand years, you needed a moment to yourself.

Despite the centuries of fighting by your goddess's side, despite the many sisters you watched fall in battle, it never got easier. You couldn’t deny that Zoe’s loss hit different than all the others. Zoe had been at your side since you joined the Hunters, she taught you, she trained with you, she was the one who you first met, the one who brought you to Artemis.

You knew you should have gone on the quest. If you had been on the quest maybe you could have saved Zoe, maybe it would have been you who lost their life instead. That certainly would have been for the best, Zoe was needed at Artemis’s side, she deserved to continue on, the Hunters needed their leader and that was Zoe. You were Zoe’s second, you were meant to protect her, despite what she may have said, it was your duty to make sure Zoe always returned, and you failed.

You could hear the dirt crunch behind you as someone approached. “I thought you went back to your cabin,” you said softly, not needing to turn around to know who it was.

“I couldn’t go back to sleep without making sure you were okay,” Clarisse said. You had only known her for a little less than a week, but you had never heard her speak so softly, not even to Silena, who she was arguably the nicest to. “How are you doing?”

You sucked in a breath, your eyes remained unblinking as you stared at the new constellation. Zoe always loved the stars, it’s the one thing that never changed over time, despite the years that would pass, the stars were always there. She deserved to be up there among the stars, running across the sky and watching over the Hunters as you continued your journey.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve lost a sister,” you responded, trying to stop your voice from cracking.

“That doesn’t make it easier,” she said. She was right behind you; you felt her eyes on the back of your head, but you still refused to turn around.

“No,” you whispered. “No, it doesn’t.”

Life without Zoe, you couldn’t imagine it, it didn’t seem fathomable. You always figured you’d be the first to go. You didn’t doubt your skills but with how often you put your life at risk, with how reckless you could be to accomplish your goal, you never imagined Zoe falling before you. You would trade your life for Zoe’s in a heartbeat.

You heard the slight crunching of dirt as Clarisse shifted from foot to foot. You knew she was still behind you, though you hadn’t turned around. You weren’t sure how long she intended to stay there; it wasn’t like you were good company at the moment.

“You probably want to be alone,” Clarisse mumbled. “I’m going to go. Sorry for bothering you.”

You hummed out an acknowledgment. You listened as dirt shifted beneath her feet as she turned to walk away. “Wait,” you whispered. You were sure it was barely audible but clearly, she heard you, the shifting of her feet stopped. “Stay.” Tears began to fill your eyes; you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to hold them back anymore. “Please.”

There was some slight shuffling and next thing you knew Clarisse sat beside you, her legs dangling off the ledge. You glanced down, watching as Clarisse’s hand slid silently across the dirt, her pinky out as she got closer to you but didn’t actually touch you. You slid your hand across the dirt until your pinky brushed against hers. Your entire body froze at the contact until you felt her move, slowly intertwining her pinky with yours.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, staring up at the stars. Clarisse stayed with you the entire time, neither of you saying a word. You couldn’t deny the connection you felt with her, the comfort her presence brought you. You knew you couldn’t get attached to the feelings Clarisse brought out in you, that you shouldn’t get attached to them. You took an oath, and you would not dishonor your fallen sister by breaking that oath, you owed it to Zoe to be a better Hunter, to do better.

Morning rolled around before you knew it. You watched the sky; it was only a matter of time before the sun would start to rise. You made your way back to the cabin after your night with Clarisse, making sure to part ways before you got back to your cabin. You slung your pack over your shoulder and made sure the others had their stuff. You looked around the cabin, making sure everything was spotless until your eyes fell on the bed in the corner, Zoe’s bed. There technically weren’t assigned bunks but when it came to the Hunters, since all of you were immortal when you chose a bed it kind of became yours.

You walked over to the bed, looking down at the perfectly tucked sheets. Zoe always left her bed pristine, as if it had never been slept in. She was only at camp for one real night before she was sent on the quest, and she still managed to make her bed before leaving. You slid open the drawer of the nightstand right beside the bed. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw a silver circlet sitting in the drawer, the only thing sitting in the drawer.

“Until we meet again my sister,” you whispered, gently picking up the silver circlet before placing it in your bag.

“Let’s get moving,” you called out to your sister, clearing your throat to get rid of any emotion.

The Hunters followed your orders, falling into single file out of the cabin. They marched quietly through camp, each one of them looking at the sky, at the new constellation when it came into view, before it would disappear completely until nightfall again. You glanced around, noticing not a single camper was awake, there was a slight rumbling in the distance indicating the coming rain, you couldn’t think of more perfect weather for the occasion. You caught sight of Dionysus and Chiron standing outside the big house, each of them holding somber looks.

You weren’t surprised they already knew what happened. After all Zoe wasn’t the only one to lose her life on the quest. Bianca hadn’t even been a Hunter for a week, and she had already fallen in battle. You didn’t know the details of the quest and you didn’t need to; you were sure Bianca fought bravely till the end. You hadn’t spent much time with her, and you had your reservations about her going on the quest, her loss made you wish it had been you on the quest even more, she was so young, she had a little brother, so much to live for, it should have been you.

Chiron bowed his head to all of you as you passed the big house, each Hunter giving him a nod in acknowledgement. You caught Dionysus’s gaze and for the first time in your entire life, which was saying something, you saw sympathy in his eyes. You held your head high as you gave him a nod as well, he responded with a raise of his glass. You knew it was diet coke, but it was the thought that counts and that was about as high praise as you could get from Dionysus. Despite Dionysus’ distaste for the Hunters and the arguments he had with Zoe he had a heart, at least on some level, he cared for all his campers, including the Hunters when they were there.

As all of you began your journey up the hill you could see the silhouette of a spikey-haired girl, with her classic leather jacket, leaning against the tree she once was. A few of your sisters glanced back at you but you gave them a nod to continue. None of you had any experience of having another lieutenant other than Zoe. You had been with Artemis longer than any other Hunter and Zoe was already her second before you took the oath. You were just as hesitant as they were, but you knew Artemis always needed a second and if she deemed Thalia worthy of that position then you would follow her into battle without question.

You whipped around when you heard the someone’s feet slapping the grass hard as they ran towards you. Your mouth parted in question, your eyes going wide when you saw Clarisse. You had thanked her for her company and then you went your separate ways, you figured she had gone back to her cabin to get some sleep. She slowed down when she realized you had come to a stop.

“Hey,” she said slightly breathless. You raised your eyebrows at that, it took a lot for Clarisse to get breathless, that meant she probably sprinted all the way from her cabin. “I just…” she let out an awkward chuckle looking up at the sky. You smiled, it was clear she didn’t get nervous often, it seemed you were both in uncharted waters when it came to your feelings for each other. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

You smiled at her, she was gorgeous with the sun rising behind her, almost as gorgeous as when she was drenched in sweat, standing over a poor camper with her spear at their neck. You shook your head when you realized the thoughts you just had. You glanced behind you to see the rest of the Hunters had made it over the hill, only Thalia remained at the top, resting against the tree as she looked down at you and Clarisse before quickly directing her attention at something on the other side.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling softly at Clarisse.

“For what?” she asked.

“Being the… friend,” you emphasized the word, staring into her eyes, hoping your eyes said what you couldn’t. “I needed.”

“Well, anytime you need a…” she gave you a sad smile. “Friend, I’m here for you.”

You smiled at that. You were a Hunter, she was a demigod, there was a chance you’d never see her again in this lifetime, you didn’t come to camp often enough. You reached out, crossing the invisible barrier that separated the two of you and took her hand within yours. You heard her suck in a breath, but she didn’t say anything, her eyes remained cast down, watching as you lightly swung your intertwined hands back and forth.

“I’m sorry things couldn’t be different,” you mumbled.

“Me too,” she whispered. She quickly let go of your hand and cleared her throat. “How do you feel about that?” you turned to see her nodding up the hill at Thalia who was looking at the two of you again.

You let out a long sigh before directing your attention back to Clarisse. It didn’t matter how you felt about it, it was Artemis’s decision, and she made her choice, you would never question your goddess about something like that. You certainly had your opinions on Thalia though, you had them when you first met her all those years ago and they pretty much remained the same when you met her again nearly a week ago.

“I trust my goddess’s decision,” you said, with a small smile.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. You knew she wasn’t overly fond of the Hunters in general and probably didn’t have the highest opinion of Thalia either. You were pretty sure she wasn’t a fan of any of the gods, even her own father, though she was still desperate to make him proud. She didn’t know what it was like to have full faith in a goddess, to follow them, not because you were their child but by choice, though, most demigods didn’t understand the reason you and the other Hunters took the oath, why you were all so willing to fight and die for your goddess.

“Not jealous she didn’t choose you?” Clarisse inquired, crossing her arms. “You seem to give orders pretty well,” she mumbled the last part, her eyes on the ground as she kicked a rock.

You couldn’t help but smirk, even when the two of you were getting along, she still found it difficult to compliment someone else’s leadership skills. “No,” you said instantly, glancing back at Thalia one last time. “I’m not much of a leader. More of a third-tier leader type.” You chuckled making Clarisse chuckle along with you.

“Stay in touch?” she asked. “Everyone here is an idiot,” she was looking everywhere but you. “Besides Silena,” she added with an eyeroll as if Silena were going to pop up and yell at her for saying that. “And I kind of like talking to you,” she glanced at you before quickly looking away again.

“Of course,” you smiled.

You finished your goodbyes with Clarisse then made your way up the hill to where Thalia was waiting. She was leaning against her tree, her arms crossed with an unimpressed look on her face. “Took you long enough,” she said as you got to the top of the hill.

You rolled your eyes, she was definitely going to take some getting used to, she wasn’t Zoe. “Let’s go,” she said, pushing off the tree. “Artemis is waiting for us.”

“Wait,” you said, reaching around for your bag. Thalia paused, turning to you with a furrowed brow. “I know it’s probably not your thing,” you looked Thalia up and down. “But every lieutenant of Artemis should have one.” You pulled out the silver circlet, holding it out to Thalia.

Thalia’s face softened, her eyes not leaving the circlet in your hands. You figured she knew where you got it from. She had seen Zoe wearing one every time they interacted, and it wasn’t like you had been around anyone else where you could have acquired one. You hoped she understood what you offering this up meant. She could get a new one from Artemis, you were sure your goddess intended to give her one but offering her one of Zoe’s felt right.

“Thank you,” Thalia said, gently taking the circlet out of your hands. She hesitantly lifted it up and placed it on her head.

You sucked in a breath, staring at Thalia wearing Zoe’s silver circlet. You had to blink a few times to stop the tears from forming, you just officially admitted that Zoe was in fact gone.

“After you, lieutenant,” you said. Thalia nodded and began to make her way down the hill again. A smirk slowly crept onto your face before you turned to follow. “Unless you need more time saying goodbye,” you nodded back at the tree. “The squirrels that used to live on you probably miss you.”

Thalia kept walking down the hill to where the rest of the Hunters were waiting but she made sure to flip you off as she walked away. You gave a small chuckle; it would take some time and things would be different, but Thalia would make a good lieutenant. You looked back down at Camp Half-Blood one last time, seeing Clarisse in the distance. You smiled, giving her one last wave before you turned and followed after your sisters.

Taglist: @cxcilla @touchmyfracturedomens @luclue @manu-007s-world

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #maybe in another life

23 notes · View notes

cowpokeomens · 15 hours

Note

Imagine Will being all nervous the first time yall 😏😏 cause he's so excited to have you but just so nervous and worried cause he doesn't wanna hurt his goddess 😔 and his touches are so gentle 😔 and his soft little kisses all over your body 😔 and the way he'd speak to you 😔 and he just wants you to feel good 😔😔

I’m doing this instead of my actual work!

Because he’d start out sooooo sweet wow wow wow it’s kisses everywhere and playfully yanking you closer to him and giggling into each other’s mouths but then he slides home and all he can stammer is something about how you’re so fucking wet and you’re cheeky so you tell him it’s all for him and 😔 he’s just a man 😔 what else is he supposed to do but fold you in half and fuck you until you’re as dumb as he is yknow? Definitely the sort to grunt about how pretty you are and how much he loves you while he’s porking you :-/ holds your hands to ground himself, still kissing you as he says “good girl, so good for me” this was a mistake I need to go home

#ramblin gal #will ramos headcanon #will ramos fic #will ramos fanfic #will ramos fanfiction #will ramos smut #will ramos x reader

20 notes · View notes

bonesandthebees · 2 days

Note

I did recently reread Glass Divine, and MAN

I looove love love that Phil characterization <33 so much. He’s so silly. The “I was TRYING to talk to my wife >:( what is going on??” Scene lives in my brain

The crimeboys took the show obviously but phil served in every single scene he was in. I am curious if anyone else knows he is married to Kristin — or even if he officially IS married to her, or just devotes himself to her?

But also it would be just like Phil to just. Never explain to anyone who his wife is. Or make up a new ‘how we met’ story every time anyone asked questions.

awww thank you, I love glass!phil he really is such a Guy. local religious terrorist, guy who thought it was a good idea to teach an orphaned kid how to destroy the government and worship death, wife guy to the extreme. love him.

technically speaking, phil is not married to kristin. but he has a very close and personal connection with her that very few acolytes of Death have ever had. he's in love with kristin in the way a man loves his god/goddess, and since phil has devoted his entire life to serving her he views it as a marriage of sorts and offhandedly will refer to her as his wife, although it's more of a joke than a serious thing

basically, he's married to kristin in the same way some people say that nuns are 'married' to god

#ask #anon #through a glass divine

24 notes · View notes

sorceresssundries · 19 hours

Text

A Scandal In Sorcery

Chapter 2 - The Dance

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav

Summary: A Regency era/Baldur’s Gate crossover. Set in an Alternate Universe, containing familiar faces and key events in new light.

It is, predominantly, a love-story which will contain explicit content as the slow-burning bond between Gale and Tav deepens.

Chapter 1 here

(This is also published on AO3)

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This story is set in an Alternate Universe. Though there may be echoes of sound and flickers of light from a well-loved place, please bear in mind this is a new path in a familiar forest. Take comfort in the familiarity and care into the unknown. Some things are destined to come together in every universe, just as others are doomed to fall apart.

Gale Dekarios wasn’t sure what it was exactly that drew her to him. Whether it was her sullen demeanour, unconventional beauty or the fact strands of weave shimmered around her like cracked light through crystal.

He had sensed her almost immediately as he had entered the ballroom, felt the air spark as though she was an approaching storm. His gaze drifted her way, and as soon as he met her eyes he was spellstruck. Her skin, warm and tanned, adorned with freckles, bore a delicate pink blush across the bridge of her nose and the high points of her cheekbones —a complexion undoubtedly caused by a day in the company of the sun. While the majority of women in the room adorned themselves in the season’s satin, empire-waisted gowns, she stood out in corseted robes of navy and gold, sculpted to accentuate her curves and flowing gracefully to the floor. They were daringly slit on each side to reveal laced-up boots over fitted breeches. There had obviously been an attempt to tame her hair for the occasion, but loose black curls were making a desperate escape from the tight coil they had been imprisoned in. Amidst the tamed field of the other guests, she was a wildflower. A cherry blossom in a forest of pine, and he was determined to delight in the shade of her if only for a few moments. Perhaps being coerced into this charade wouldn’t be as unbearable as he had initially feared.

He managed to interrupt his companion from flirting for a few seconds to enquire about her. “Mr. Ancunin, who is that over there hiding away in the dark corner?” The silver haired man winked at the young lord he was talking to, before turning to flash a disarming, pointed smile.

“Ah, that is young Duke Ravengard. Heart of gold, morals of a white knight, blade of a hero.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, as though this disappointed him. “Shame really, he is handsome, but frightfully boring.”

“Not him, the woman he is speaking with.”

"Ha, Ostavia Olyn, now she is a much more intriguing character. Rumour has it her family is penniless, and her father is treating her like a prized mare at auction, but hush, you didn't hear it from me," he chuckled, a hint of cruelty in his laughter. "She's a firecracker, to say the least, but I'd advise caution if I were you. I hear someone has their eye on her." Before Mr. Dekarios could press further on the matter of her admirers, the silver-tongued Mr. Ancunin had already drifted back into conversation, and the host of the evening had begun his speech. As Lord Gortash talked, Gale began delicately moving through the enraptured crowd, determined to get as close to her as possible in the hope of asking for a dance.

Despite accepting his hand, her temper still sizzled. He couldn't quite fathom what had ignited her ire, but he couldn't deny the allure of a stoked fire over a tepid rain shower any day. Intrigued, he found himself eager to uncover more about her.

Gale had been a popular hand at the Blackstaff Ball back in his days as an apprentice. Admittedly, his time away from the material plane and with his Goddess had not allowed much room for practising his steps but he found it was an easy rhythm to fall back into, especially with such an enchanting partner.

Tav, on the other hand, was less practiced, less graceful, and far less enchanted. It took a few delicate moments for her to find her feet. He was more respectful than some of the other partners who had dared take a turn with her. His hand on her waist was courteous, yet there was a firmness to his grip that guided her with confidence, preventing her feet from stumbling - though it did little to steady her breath. In the proximity of their dance, she caught the scent of him—sandalwood and parchment - He smelled like crisp autumn.

“Are you managing to enjoy the evening from your hideaway?” He asked politely.

At his attempt at small talk, Tav steeled herself for another dull turn with a dull partner. The politeness and reservedness of it all was suffocating. She felt restricted and bound - constantly stuffed into conversations two sizes too small. She was sick of it all. She wanted her hair down, she wanted to smile with her teeth and laugh from her belly. She wanted to sprint corsetless through warm summer rain and spin magic from her fingers like she was born to do.

She often felt these long evenings of repression were unproductive for someone alive with magic. She should be spending her time with her gift settled on the surface of her skin, and soaking in the cool freshness of it. Instead, she felt like it was a caged, prowling animal she was destined to tame but never master. If only she had the freedom she craved, the pure, eternal, bright freedom of someone like Gale Dekarios. He had everything she wanted, and yet here he was letting himself be paraded around like a prized possession. He infuriated her, but she supposed she would have to indulge him for now, if only for one dance.

“Very much so Saer, I find it gives me a perfect vantage point to observe the events of the evening.” She tried very hard to keep the bite out of her voice, but sharp teeth are tricky to file down.

“And what have you discovered from your vantage point, oh mysterious spy?” His tone was refreshingly playful, and something flickered in her chest and in her smile.

“If I told you, I wouldn’t be a very good spy would I?”

Gale Dekarios realised he was very quickly dabbling with trouble in the crackling presence of this wildfire woman. “Wizards don’t make for good spies, I don’t think we are built for all that sneaking. Let’s leave that to the rogues and scoundrels shall we?” His observation surprised her, perhaps he was more attentive than she gave him credit for.

“What makes you think I am a wizard, Saer? Do I display their famous arrogance? I was not aware I had conjured any magic tricks this evening.” His response to her indignation was a smile which could brighten the darkest midnight. She continued, starting to feel a little unsteady. “If you are expecting a show, I’m afraid I must leave you disappointed.”

"Well, for a start, you've opted for robes instead of a dress," Gale remarked, his gaze tracing the contours of her attire with a knowing gleam in his eyes. "And secondly, you're a flame around which the weave flutters like a helpless moth." There was a charged pause, his thumb delicately brushing against her wrist as they moved in tandem. "You seem to evoke a similar reaction in those attuned to it" He slowed their dance, and his eyes fluttered to her lips. “You are most intriguing…”

She tried not to meet his eyes again, in fear she would fall into them and not be able to find her way out. So, instead she tried to distract herself with a turn in the conversation.

“Your date is watching us very intently, Saer. I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

Gale snapped out of his trance, momentarily confused. However, as he spun her gracefully across the floor, he realised she was referring to Mr. Ancunin, who indeed had fixed his stare upon them with an unreadable expression on his face.

“How kind of you to show concern, my lady.” She didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “But he is not my date, he is my… escort.” Tav’s expression must have given her surprise away, as he quickly stumbled up with “I mean.. He has escorted me here from Waterdeep, under instruction of Lord Gortash.” She can feel his shoulder tense slightly under her hand as he mentions their host. How unusual, she thinks, why on earth could the presence of this chosen one be so important to this particular evening?

“Surely the chosen of a Goddess doesn’t need someone to hold their hand and guide them to our modest little gathering”

He chuckled and she felt her cheeks flush, as though somewhere there’s a joke she’s missed the punchline to.

“It wasn’t a travel issue my lady, I can assure you my navigation skills are incomparable.” She risked a glance at him then, and her fears were confirmed. His eyes were so warm and dark that the sparkling candlelight came to life within them. She found herself momentarily lost, before mentally shaking herself free from his hypnotic gaze.

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she thought she was suddenly a little closer to him than before.

“Mr. Ancunin is a senior magistrate and dear friend of Lord Gortash. He was very clear with his.. focused...message that I was to attend here this evening.” His tone darkened slightly, and for a second he appeared lost in thought. “Upon our introduction he delighted me in conversation about his influence within the justice system, and let me know I need not bother him with smalltalk about my upbringing or connections. He knows everything about me and my inner circle, apparently.” His eyes met hers again, his meaning heavy.

Tav couldn't help but admire the audacity of threatening the prized possession of Mystra in such a brazen manner. Yet, she swiftly dismissed the thought. The political machinations and power plays of politicians and playthings held little interest for her. She was on the cusp of freedom from this city, and once she ascended to the rank of archmage, she vowed not to be coerced into attending such meaningless social gatherings ever again.

Her gaze once more met Mr. Ancunin's, noting his demeanour did befit that of a magistrate. However, her learnings had taught her to view most in such positions as nothing more than corrupt bloodsuckers. A shiver of distaste ran down her spine, earning a laugh from Gale.

"You have no talent for hiding your feelings, Miss Olyn," he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Tav's lips curled into a wry smile, her gaze unflinching as she met his. "My talents are unknown to you, Mr. Dekarios, and that is how they shall remain." Here, in his arms, unfurling the bright petals of her wit, she felt herself bloom slightly—a bud with a taste of sunlight. "Maybe I am a woman who likes to make her feelings known."

His arm moved slightly further around her waist, and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "One certainly hopes so."

He was so close now she could feel his breath against her cheek, one hand pressed against her back and the other softly clutching hers as they moved. Her temper had dimmed, she had noticed, and just as she found herself truly relishing the sensation of being in his arms, the music came to an end, abruptly breaking the spell they had cast together.

There was a brief moment in the dip of the music, just before he let her go, which he let himself sink into. Only for a burning second. The sensation of her small hand in his, the gentle curve of her waist beneath his touch, and the scent of vanilla, how warmth sang from her skin as though her day basking outside had dazzled her into the sun itself. He wondered how that warmth would taste against his lips…

She stepped back and bowed quickly, formally, now acutely aware of the whispers breezing around them. They had become the focus of the party. It was a position Tav had always been determined to avoid, yet here they were, at the centre of it all. Amidst the murmuring crowd, she caught sight of her father near one of the bowls of punch, appearing uncharacteristically flustered and oddly alone. It struck her as peculiar.

Gale was about to inquire if she would like to share another dance with him when a figure interrupted.

"May I cut in? I would be honoured if you would grace me with the next dance," the voice came, clipped but courteous. Tav felt a rush of relief as Wyll stood by her, offering her some friendly comfort on the dance floor. However, as she turned back from assessing her father's odd countenance, she realised Wyll was not addressing her, but rather Mr. Dekarios. Wyll was glaring at him as though trying to set him alight, but the wizard seemed unperturbed.

He bowed at the invitation. “Of course my lord, how could I turn down such a genteel invitation.” Tav once again felt out of the loop, but despite the strange tension, she felt grateful for an opportunity to step out of the limelight and talk to her father.

He became even more nervous as Tav approached him.

“Father. I am surprised at you!” Tav mocked. “It is unusual for you to give up so quickly. Have you finally run out of suitors to harass, or are you just gathering back your strength for another round of negotiations?” Her mood had once again soured.

“Ostavia…” his voice was a tired plea.

“I tell you what, how about I do a lap of the room ringing a bell and sending up sparks to draw some extra attention?”

“Tav, please… we must speak privately, there is someth…” He was speaking in a hushed tone, and Tav was becoming more and more irritable. What a dream it would be for one to be able to express their thoughts openly and at a normal volume.

“Let us speak privately at home father, Leyana will be desperate to hear all about the evening, and what kind of a sister would I be if I deprived her of such fascinating tales. I am tired and this silly circus of a party is of no use to us.”

"Silly? Oh, I don’t know. I've found the evening rather... eventful," a low, amused voice chimed in from behind Tav, causing her to whirl around. There, standing before her, was Lord Gortash. Handsome in a different way from Mr. Dekarios, he exuded a certain invitation, like a dark path veering away from busy, lamplit streets—enticing, alluring, and perhaps dangerous. Up close, he appeared more pallid, with shadows under his eyes making him appear slightly haunted. His features were undeniably strong, his eyes so dark they were almost black. However, unlike the warmth she had felt with her dance partner, these eyes held a colder, more baleful gaze. They were focused, attentive, and fixated on her.

“My apologies, my lord.” Tav gave a slight bow of her head, she ought to be embarrassed but she was having such an awful time she was past caring. Perhaps if she came across as rude to their host she would be excluded from all social events, or perhaps she just didn’t feel like being polite to any more men this evening.

"You are forgiven, dear lady," he smiled warmly. "I see you've been enjoying the company of some esteemed individuals. Tell me, what is your impression of Mr. Dekarios?" At his mention, Tav turned to see him still immersed in dance with her friend. Wyll led, both in steps and conversation, his expression bearing an uncharacteristic sternness. Whatever they were discussing didn’t look particularly agreeable.

"The legend of his magical ability certainly travels," Gortash continued before she could answer, his tone deliberate, almost intimate. "He must be absolutely fascinating for one such as yourself who is also... gifted."

At the last word, Tav's eyes whipped back to him, stunned into silence. What did this man know of her gifts? Perhaps he had heard of her prowess during her studies? But she couldn’t fathom why someone like her would be on the radar of someone so deeply entrenched in politics.

He chuckled at her. “Don’t be alarmed, my dear. Your father and I have been deep in conversation and I've been keeping a close eye on you for some time. He has much to be proud of, to have not one but two daughters gifted with such powerful sorcery.”

Tav flicked her eyes toward her father, who couldn't meet her gaze, and a wave of panic surged through her. What had he done? What had he let slip?

She summoned every ounce of composure, striving to calm her racing heart and settle her tumultuous thoughts into still waters. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Saer,” she replied, forcing a serene smile. “My sister is no sorceress; she was not blessed with…”

He laughed again, each peal a shard of ice down her spine. “She does you proud, Yondrel. Sharp as a whip and as pretty as a night orchid.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Tav’s father offered with frustrating meekness.

“Do not fear. The secret of your sister’s condition and family standing is safe with me. I promise you that,” Gortash assured, and for a moment, the veil of threat lifted, replaced by something resembling sincerity, though Tav couldn't be certain if it was genuine or merely a flicker of hope in darkness. “Do not be angry with your father, dearest. It wasn't him who told me of your sister’s troubles.”

Dearest? Who was this man to call her dearest? To bring up family secrets and slip them sharp between her ribs like a rogue in an alleyway. Tav could feel her skin crackle with anger and indignation at the gall this arrogant, jumped up…

“It was Grand Duke Ravengard. His son is a close friend of yours, yes? I’m afraid there’s no such thing as family secrets in such a close-knit, generous community such as ours. I have many friends, in many positions.” He took a step closer to her, and she could not move, her feet were made of lead. “Besides, the two of us should have no secrets between us.”

Tav did not like where this was going, she felt out of her depth and did not want to continue the conversation until she had whetted her courage and supplied some well-needed ammo to her arsenal, or at least some decent armour to protect from the concurrent blows. She did not enjoy feeling like she was on the back-foot.

“If you would excuse me, Lord Gortash, I thank you for your hospitality but my father and I were just leaving.” She bowed low and went to turn away as politely as possible, but was stopped by Gortash’s hand placed softly in the crook of her arm.

“Such formality, my dear. I can assure you, it is not needed.” He leant forward and grasped one of her hands in between his.

“Not now we’re to be husband and wife.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale x female tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale fanfic #regency era gale

29 notes · View notes

kingdoms-and-empires · 2 days

Note

1. What's the difference between a duchy and an imperial province?

2. You said that Aranys is the 2nd most powerful woman in the empire, does that mean Otto values her more than the imperial princesses?

3. Who is more closer to Goddess according to the Beltheans, the emperor or the archpriestess?

4. Is the title of the Archpriestess hereditary or works like the nomination of Popes?

5. As far as I can remember, you have to be mother first before becoming a priestess. So basically speaking you need to become a milf first?

An Imperial Province equivalent to the size of Argent. They're kingdom sized territories.

That's a really complicated answer.

Archpriestess, but uh, she dead.

Nomination.

You need to indeed be a milf first. Which is hilarious to say.

#kingdomsandempires #interactive fiction #questions #lore #if wip #choicescript #dashingdon

25 notes · View notes

youremyheaven · 2 days

Note

I was on Claire’s patreon for a month at the lowest tier because I enjoyed some of her videos and was curious to see the extra documents etc.

There’s also a chat on there and it was quite cool to talk to other people who were into Vedic, and I had a lot of genuinely interesting interactions w ppl. Claire herself is very rarely talking on there.

BUT there’s a channel dedicated to the female path course and some of the things people say on there make me worry a bit about the content of the course. My memory is quite poor, I’ll try and see if I can still access the chat. But someone was saying something along the lines of “Claire said that a woman needs a true masculine like shiva as part of the female path” and there was a whole discussion on what “true masculinity” is.

There was also ideas in that thread such as “mercury women have the hardest time finding a masculine because they are not easily tamed. However when she comes across a true masculine she will be tamed and submit to him and rely on him etc etc”.

The women there was also talking about their struggle between being all sexually empowered girlboss and this idea of having to submit to a man for the sake of completing your spiritual journey or whatever. Madonna-whore complex much?

This is just one specific example but I thought to myself girl what💀 this is literally gender roles 101. Lowkey praying for these women

(Also it’s funny how they say things like “find a masculine” instead of just saying man. They’re trying to sound more spiritual and inclusive but you know damn well a woman can’t be a “masculine” to them)

😳😂😂lmfao this does not surprise me at all

Claire's content revolves heavily around sex, sexuality and traditional gender roles. Initially I found the differences between the male & female spiritual path interesting and relatable and combined with my study of ancient goddess worship, it made sense to me that there's a difference between yin & yang energy and how it's harnessed and what gives it power & strength but the more I saw of her saying women have no light and need a man to fulfill their spiritual purpose and her heavily glorifying female submission under the guise of spirituality, I was a bit like 😬😬 it's so obvious that Claire is Moon dominant ngl, her insistence on women being naturally passive and unable to do anything without male influence really speaks about her receptive nature but it's so toxic and harmful to propagate that myth among people that when it comes down to it, even in spirituality, women still have to be "beneath" men and "absorbing from them" or whatever tf

Moon dominants have a patriarchy kink fr 😤

21 notes · View notes

negobeauriva · 2 days

Text

The Windows95manifesto: In defense of Finland's performance for 2024

Happy first rehearsal week everyone!

The first wave of rehearsals is done, and with it, we have gotten a wave of comments about the performances. Some filled with praise and approval, but some others completely hateful and rude. And today I'm going to talk to you about this second kind of comments about one of this year's controversial entry: Finland's "No Rules!" by Windows95man (Teemu Keisteri) ft. Henri Piispanen.

Many people have said that this entry is a joke, or that it doesn't deserve to be in Eurovision because it's distasteful. But here I am, in defense of uniqueness and weirdness, not only because this entry is in my top 5 this year, but also because it's important to understand what "art" is about. Here's to all the "weird" Eurovision entries that have been called unworthy of stepping on stage because they've been misunderstood.

A special shoutout to @/tottakaibi on Twitter/X because she gave me one of the pointers for this article in particular! And she's constantly in the lookout for Teemu and Henri's projects.

Without further ado, step in and enjoy the read.

No Rules! is, undoubtedly, the most distruptive entry this year - the nudity, fast-paced music and unique mise-en-scene, all make for an entry that many have deemed nonpalatable or not artistic. But behind every art display, there is a story, and I'm here to tell you a little bit more about it.

To start, the staging of No Rules! refers to the Kalevala, a book of finnish folk poetry from the 19th century that contains the myth of creation: Earth was born from an egg, with the shells forming both sky and land. Goddess Ilmatar, mother of nature and creation, soon realized that whatever she touched would grow and her every move was an act of creation itself. And so, she gave birth to Väinämönen, the first man to ever walk upon Earth.

Teemu arising from an egg is a clear reference to the Kalevala myth of creation, and he's even referred to it in some way in a video recently posted by UMK, in which he tells the tale of how Windows95man was born and Henri, in the figure of an eagle, becomes his friend so he can walk on the rule-burdened Earth without caring much for the impositions. It's both a mythical reference and a song of liberation: to not care about what others think and what others say to live freely and happily. To disregard societal "rules" in order to pursue happiness (this, of course, in the sense that you shouldn't care about "neat" or "appropriate", and not about the lack of order).

This song has also been called an anthem of liberation for LGBTQ+ members: No Rules! refers to the absence of gender norms ("Quiet, as I speak / I am the king, I am the queen" // "Is there something wrong with the way I look? / Is there something wrong with who I am?") and to live your life expressing yourself in the way you deem the best fit for you. As an agender person who's constantly told what to wear, what to say and how to act, this song is very meaningful and close to me. It makes me feel a bit better about my identity.

Now, to the point that interests you the most - how can No Rules! be considered an artistic performance, with the disruptive elements that make many shriek in disgust?

Let's begin with this - art is subjective and it's meant to make you feel something, whether good or bad. Art is meant to move something inside you, to make you question things. Have not many artists in the past made paintings about poor people's lives to protest poor living conditions or to showcase how hard it was to get on by? To many, art forms like paintings and sculptures that we now consider artistic were once considered scandalous or distasteful. This is the exact point of this performance.

In a recent documentary called "No Shame", Teemu referred to this - the point of his art is to appeal to disgust, to weirdness and to what makes you question what's tasteful or not. Shock factor also plays an important part in modern art performances. It's about going into the raw parts of your psyche and make you uncomfortable.

Teemu has been a visual artist since 2008, under the name Ukkeli. Vibrant colors, strange outfits and drawings, uncovered butts as part of his art installations and the message "No Rules" as one of his oldest mottos (not surprising, considering that in an interview he said he grew up with hippie parents that were very permissive) are the main features of his work. It's reminiscent of early 2000's adult animation shows, who also had a big shock factor and were frowned upon back then.

In this appeal to weirdness resides the charm of Windows95man's performance - in making you feel uncomfortable and weird, you're proving the exact point of the song. You will be bitter about how Finland could've "sent something better", but that won't change the fact that Teemu and Henri were chosen by his people because they understood the art beyond the shocking display. They understood what living with no rules means, to embrace weirdness, to embrace unique, and not care about what others say. If it makes you feel happy, who says that you're not allowed to like or pursue it?

Let's take a look back - Go_A's Shum, who was also catalogued as weird due to Kateryna's bewitching voice and vocalizations, made it to 5th place with no problem in 2021. Zdob si Zdub & Advahov Brothers' Trenulețul 2022 got to number 7 in 2022, after being called disruptive noise, and Konstrakta's In Corpore Sano made it to 5th place even when it was called creepy by some. Mama ŠČ! by Let3 made it to an impressive 12th place last year, and 3rd place in Dora this year with their strange Baba Roga.

If every country sent the same cookie-cutter type of "safe" song to Eurovision, the contest would be very repetitive and monotone. Let's face it, the public loves unique, loves something that will blow your hats off for three minutes and wondering what happened. They love songs that go off the "normal" standard because it takes you for a trip and makes you jump off your seat. It's no wonder that, in contrast with No Rules! getting so much hate, along with Doomsday Blue (another of the misunderstood entries, reduced only to its wrongly called "satanistic" character), 5Miinust and Puulup seem to be favorites this year, along with Joost Klein, who is rumored to win. People either love or hate weird and unique. Sadly, Finland got the worst end of the stick, and I think that's very unfair.

There's also the double standard, many think that it's inappropriate for Teemu to show up in nude-colored underwear, but they had no problem with female contestants in revealing outfits in previous years. Here's the thing - it's either okay for everyone to wear revealing outfits, or it's not. The argument that 2022's Chanel is given a pass to wearing revealing clothes because "she's a sexy girl speaking about being sexy" is invalid. Beauty, much like art, is subjective. And I do think that Teemu is very beautiful. He is allowed to wear what he wants (of course, according to EBU's standards, and they seem to have approved of the performance as is) and you don't get to say what's tasteful or not based off an aesthetic standard settled in sexism.

To finish this off, let me sum up the most important points of my mini-essay: No Rules! is an artistic performance because it's disruptive, it has elements that refer to Finnish myths and it's a liberation anthem that is meant to reach all those who feel like being themselves is wrong, to make them forget about this world's standards for three minutes and remember that the only person they need to please is themselves. As such, this song accomplishes its goal perfectly and beautifully. To call Teemu and Henri's performance a joke is to bypass every element of its artistry and to insult the artist standing on stage. Finland chose them, and so we must respect their decision and refrain from sending hateful comments.

I do think that we need to keep high hopes for this performance. I know that the two of them will go beyond everything we know and expect and will blow us all away when the Semifinal 1 comes in May 7th. After all, Henri's vocal skills have improved greatly since UMK, and Teemu's charisma can only grow by the second. These two have everything to go far and to show everyone that sometimes, all you need is to not listen to your surroundings and act as your heart commands.

Sometimes, the only rule is no rules.

#eurovision #eurovision 2024 #esc 2024 #esc24 #no rules #windows95man #teemu keisteri #henri piispanen #get this guys to top 5 asap #finland #umk

21 notes · View notes