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purposeless-goner · 15 days

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I've seen a lot of people trying to get into the BSD light Novels and quite frankly you can read them in order but I do have a recommendation about the order I think makes more sense chronologically regarding the story.

So:

1. LN 3. The Untold Origins of the Armed Detective Agency.

2. LN 1. Osamu Dazai's Entrance Exam.

These two take place prior to the beginning of the main timeline and are actually a great way of understanding Ranpo and the partnership between Dazai and Kunikida (also recommend LN 1 to anime only watchers because they mixed the first chapters of the manga with Dazai's entrance exam which takes place 2 years prior to the manga and they royally screwed up on Kunikida's characterisation by doing that)

3. LN 7. Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen

(the manga was good but I feel like you might understand Dazai and Chūya's dynamic and the difference of their relationship to both Mori and the Mafia once you read this)

4. LN 8. Stormbringer

(you might actually understand Chūya as a character after you read this one, dives a bit deeper into his relationship with Dazai, explains who Verlaine actually is and talks about stuff that's mentioned afterwards in the manga, like singularities)

5. LN 9. The Day I Picked up Dazai side A

(this happens at some point between LN 7 and LN 2, and helps you understand Dazai and Oda's relationship prior to reading LN 2, how Oda ended up in the Mafia and also a bit more dive into Dazai's character)

6. LN 2. Osamu Dazai and The Dark Era

(better than shown in the anime, allows you to see how Oda sees Dazai since it's written from his pov, a good dive into Dazai's character while in the mafia and why he actually left )

Once you finish The Guild arc

7. LN 4. 55 Minutes

8. LN 5. Dead Apple

(so, the first one is a bit crazy but actually dives a lot into Atsushi's character, explains weird phenomena in BSD regarding singularities and how Dazai isn't affected by certain abilities even without touch, how Yosano can actually use her ability on Dazai and I find it quite interesting, HG Wells is an interesting character as well)

(Dead Apple is entertaining and dives once again into characters and their abilities but also explains weird singularities again, also the bond between Dazai and Chūya, it also gets a bit weird towards the end in regards to things happening that might be hard to understand but the rest is easier to understand than in the movie adaptation)

9. LN 9. The Day I Picked up Dazai side B

(it's set in the alternate universe of LN 6. Beast and a great point to understand Dazai's actions and motivations in said light novel)

10. LN 6. Beast

(it should come with a warning that it's going to ruin your mental health for a while, an alternate universe of BSD, brings in the Book so you might one to read this during/after the cannibalism arc because it kind of explains a bit what the book does or how it kind of works, definitely needs a bit more explaining but it is good info before starting with the vampirism arc and all that stuff, the book is important and there's talk about singularities again. It's also cool to see how the same characters adapt to a different lifestyle, Akutagawa in the ADA, Atsushi in the PM, kyouka in the PM but with Atsushi, Dazai if he stayed in the PM, the ending will fully rip your heart out if the rest of the novel hasn't done it before that and I really recommend the manga adaptation of it because the art style is *chef's kiss* and heart wrenching)

Done with my rant now, you can still read them in their publishing order this is just my recommendation. Also, LN 9 is not out on paper yet and I think we only have fan translations online but it is definitely worth it, @popopretty has a really good translation of it.

And LN 7 is getting a manga adaptation which is also looking really good so you can check it out.

LN 5 has a manga adaptation as well as being a film and this one is not written by Asagiri but is still canon so you have that.

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somewhatsentientspellbook · 10 months

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It has been such a pleasure over the last few episodes, seeing Ashton embrace the title of ‘hero.’ The moves that they are making are really cementing themself as a leader with a desire to positively affect the world. I love this shade on Ashton, and I can’t wait to see where it goes, though I have been struck with a somewhat worrying/exciting thought.

Not too long ago, I was reminded of Taliesin’s original plans for Percy, that plan being that his story would end tragically. Of course, we know that the story didn’t turn out that way, and Percy is now living in Whitestone with his wife and children. But it got me thinking that Caduceus’ character wasn’t designed with classic tragedy in mind, and also achieved a happy ending. Then I started to consider Mollymauk. Did Taliesin intend for the tiefling to have the tragic end he got? My gut instinct is to say no.

That's how this table came into existence:

We’ve got a missing spot, don’t we? We’re missing a character that successfully achieves its predetermined tragic ending.

Taliesin has a love for creating characters with questionable and self-destructive coping mechanisms. Percy and his affinity for making deals with demonic entities and creating weapons capable of untold destruction, Molly and his hedonism and indulgence of drugs, alcohol, and mischief, and even Caduceus’ repression and ignorance towards anything that makes him uncomfortable. Ashton Greymoore is no exception. Their anger, gambling and alcoholism are all one big coping mechanism for their childhood and chronic pain.

Part of me believes that this hero mentality has become another coping mechanism for Ashton to abuse. By stepping up, Ashton has been lifting the burden of leadership from other party members, the notable cases being Laudna, Orym, and FCG. He’s been encouraging them to explore their emotions, and ever since the Solstice, he has made himself the person they can lean on for support. Ashton wants to be a hero, even if it’s at the expense of their own well-being.

Ashton has made it clear on multiple occasions that their chronic pain is handled better under greater pressure, and soft, delicate touches cause them far more discomfort (even if the softer touches lead to less trouble in the long-term). But the problem with becoming a ‘rock’ for others is that Ashton must put himself under immense emotional pressure. While they may handle it far better in the short-term, that tactic is going to cause more damage the longer they indulge it. I feel like the lyrics of ‘Heroes' by Emmy Curie best describe my feelings on the matter:

"But you’re forgetting the thing about heroes, kid, they always have to fall"

(For the record, the song is simplistic but pretty, and I highly recommend listening to the whole thing. The lyrics apply to so many characters, and not just from Critical Role)

While I love this arc for Ashton, part of me is left wondering if Taliesin has been building up this character for the purpose of falling even further. Is Ashton going to achieve the tragic ending that Percy was deprived of? Will he be the one to occupy the final quadrant of that table?

#i spent weeks struggling to piece together my ideas about this #my only coherent thought was “this barbarian is going to be everything that percy was not”#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr3 #cr meta #bells hells #taliesin jaffe #ashton greymoore #percy de rolo #caduceus clay #mollymauk tealeaf #for the record i put molly as 'tragic ending achieved' because taliesin made it clear that kingsley isn't the same person #so even though the body has continued living and is doing his pirate-y things molly is still dead

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libbee · 1 year

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Feeling Powerless in the 8th House?

Power is a strange thing. At first, it provokes the images of government, corporates, police, institutions, leaders in mind. On a personal level, it provokes images of parents, partner, inter-human relationships, schools, and even social media. Likes, reblogs, followers, public engagement give a sense of "power".

Power is not even a bad thing. It gives you competence, strength to get things done, self defence, self preservation and to live in society, you need power. Power is the child of socialization, how else will you get things done? How else will one survive in this world?

But where we do feel powerless is in the 8th house. "You are not in control of your life", this sentence alone is enough to create crisis in mind. That your relationships, goals, desires, personality, actions, intentions, thoughts, looks, luck, life story, fortune and misfortune, nothing is your own is a scary thing to realize. I cannot even afford to lose this tumblr account, let alone lose my identity, possessions and ego, then how can I happily surrender my power to the forces of the 8th house? If I don't have any power then I am as good as a dead body.

Ego v/s Powerlessness

8th house is like the reverse of everything you have been told by the society. Ever since my confrontation with this house, I feel like everything that is visible, written, told is a lie and only that is truth which is invisible, unwritten and untold. As soon as something is brought outside in the surface, it loses its truthfulness. No amount of spirituality and mysticism can explain the truth because it will not remain truth if it is brought to the surface. Everything that is brought to the surface is immediately influenced by the ego, vanity, narcissism, arrogance of the outside word. Bring a fish out of the ocean and it immediately dies. Its real place is inside the ocean. What belongs to the ocean be left in its original place. Then how do we know that the fish exist? We know because we "feel". 8th house is one of intuition (gut feelings and hunches) and feelings (that thing in your body that eats you alive). We "feel" love but as soon as try to describe that love it loses its truthfulness. You are now looking for the words, language, sentences to express your love and then you look for appreciation, acknowledgement, reciprocation and acceptance of your love. All this is vanity in a micro level.

Humility and Detachment

Okay guys, I am a humble person because I am self aware and talk about humility, so I am a down to earth and nice person, ok? But isn't it .... self-contradictory? 8th house teaches you real humility, the real thing that is not about self expression and preaching, it is about hiding yourself in the closet because you are really feeling humble. Ironically, we are a society that thrives on goals, aspirations and advancement then the 8th house is like the party pooper that tries to make you humble when all the other kids are being cool and dancing around. Not fair, sir, I hate such schools that don't treat all students equally and fairly. But 8th house is the teacher that chooses few students and teaches them real humility and brings them back to the track every time they go astray. This humility is strange because it is not in the words or performance or poetries; real humility is a thing that you know inside and then keep your lips closed because those who know don't need understanding and preaching, while those who are not there yet look for all kind of guidance and tuition. 8th house chooses its own students and they don't even know they are the chosen ones because there are no regular classes. Some days, everything seems normal, life is fine and then 8th house will summon you for emergency classes because you let something go to your head, you were vain and dishonest, you were selfish and acted against your conscience, so the teacher will call you back to the classroom and teach you real humility once again. 8th also has no notes and lessons, you are your own teacher, you will be just made to face your feelings, memories, behaviours, sometimes in isolation all alone for days or weeks, until you understand the pattern and interconnectedness of everything and change your behaviours for the future.

A Nobody in Nowhere

Even in the occult community, we have people who are egoistic, narcissists and vain, so why call out "others" when it is the humanity itself that is deeply entangled in the dirt of vanity. The other end of vanity is that you are a nobody in nowhere. If I completely surrender all my vanity then I close this account and never share my opinion on anything because conversations are impossible without some layers of ego. When two people sit and talk, they see each other's ego. Every time they open their mouths, it is their ego that speaks. It is just impossible to live a life without some ego, even if a thin layer of it. Writing this post is "my" assertion of "my" ego. And the silliest thing is that this enlightenment comes and goes, one minute one feels like they are finally enlightened and the next minute they are again confused. I think it is because there are 12 houses in a birth chart and there is more to life than what happens in 8th house alone. Whereas your 8th house may want you to surrender your ego, but your 1st house placements may want you to become a poster boy in your workplace. Two conflicting desires - To be somebody and To not be somebody. This is why self awareness and deep insights into your feelings will keep you sane here. It is a scary house when you are a newbie, but with enough training and understanding, it becomes the door to even greater understanding of 9th, 10th, 11th and 12th houses. These are the houses of the collective, greater, bigger than life and larger than an individual.

Still Feeling Powerless?

Me too. But I guess this is the challenge, to find a personal power deep within and to preserve it. Perhaps this is the reason why these natives sometimes get really spiritual, celibate and mystical. Because they preserve and protect their personal power against the world. To stand in the face of uncertainty and yet trust the patterns. To stare into the darkness and yet have scotopic vision. To get things done and yet surrender your power attitude. 8th house is like living in the dark nights when you were accustomed to living in the bright mornings and sunny afternoons. The only problem is to let go of the bitterness, resentment and frustration that comes with seeing other people still consumed in their illusions. But if we are to accept our own ignorance then we have to be tolerant with others as well, because knowledge itself is ignorance as they say. Perhaps the language of the unconscious is "silence" because the moment we start speaking all the demons and dangers of mind are summoned.

The journey to this realization comes in many ways. For me, it came from healing my childhood traumas and family inheritances of behaviours, thoughts, attitudes and emotions. "Dysfunctional family" but it turns out that there was this deeper meaning underneath all the dysfunction. Perhaps there is no such thing as "functional and healthy". Of course I am not romanticizing abuse at all. But it is surprising to see how healing childhood trauma leads to the point of spiritual path, it leads you to realize that the society as a whole is pretty dysfunctional and the only functional place is the underworld.

#astrology #astro community #astro observations #astrology observations #astroblr #astro notes #astro tumblr #astrology blog #astrology notes #8th house

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the-common-cowgirl · 8 months

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It’s Only Forever, Not Long at All…

Chapter 1: Into the Labyrinth

Labyrinth AU Mini-Series. Each Chapter based on the chronological soundtrack of the cult classic film, Labyrinth (1986).

Goblin King!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Ch. 1 is General

Summary: Life at home is not fair, your only escape is your beloved fairytale novel, The Labyrinth. However, everything is about to change when you make a heat-of-the-moment mistake, causing you to strike an unfair deal with the one and only, Goblin King.

Warnings: teenage angst

Word Count: 2960

A/N: I know chapter 1 doesn’t delve too far from the original story, however, it’s pivotal for the remainder of the story so I kept it closely canon and will start separating in chapter 2.

Series Masterlist

Thunder rumbles distantly as you make your way across the park. The skies are gloomy overhead but you pay no attention. No, your mind isn’t stuck in the present. It dances to a realm where a handsome king holds you in his arms as you stare deeply into his eyes: in love. You clutch the fairytale novel, The Labyrinth, close to your home-made, hand sewn corset you made all by yourself after becoming infatuated with this book nearly four years ago. Now at eighteen, your childish obsession has somewhat taken over your life.

Your bedroom was covered in “Labyrinth” memorabilia. You had learned to sew garments that fit the fantasy world you pictured in your mind, creating an extensive array of different pieces. Your step-mother had a music box crafted for your sixteenth birthday, as a way of trying to grow closer to you. It was a miniature version of yourself in a big, white, puffy fantasy wedding gown and hair done up in pearls and beads in an intricate way. You loved that version of you in that music box so much that you had set out to remake the gown, it had taken two years but it was nearly finished and you couldn’t wait to put it on.

Your stepmother’s attempt at becoming friendly with you had worked, until it didn't. She had merely suggested one night recently that you should pursue a degree in fashion after you graduated since you loved sewing garments so much. The suggestion infuriated you, for she had been so close to understanding what fueled your passion for creating things, yet so far. You only created and learned to sew because of your love of reading, specifically your love of this book. How could she be so blind to not see that? That night a verbal fight had ensued between your step-mother, father and yourself. A fight so bad, your step-mother picked up your baby sister, you baby half-sister, and left the room.

The residual feelings of unease still lingered in the home, weeks after the fight. Which led to now, in the park, you reciting the main character’s words to the Goblin King and the air around you as a way to escape your home-life and reality, if only for a short while.

“Give me the child. Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is great,” your mind trails off as you try to remember the next line.

“Ugh,” you groan and hit the book in your hand to your head, maybe a little too hard as it stings slightly “ I can never remember that line!” It’s true, you couldn’t, but you were also in the middle of trying to memorize the entire book so you should’ve given yourself more grace. You open the book to the page and passage in which you are trying to recite. Reading the words on the page aloud to yourself, “You have no power over me.”

As suddenly as you read the line, a large, snowy white owl swoops overhead, capturing your attention to the sky and a single raindrop falls onto your cheek as you head is cast upward to the rapidly darkening sky.

Which reminds you that you probably need to be back home by now. Your father had asked you to babysit your sister so he and your step-mother could go to a local fundraising gala and socialize the night away. The rain starts to come down harder now and you make your way back toward your home, running over the park’s bridge, right by the gazebo. Then when you reach the street, the clouds let loose and the downpour begins. You’re showered with water as you spring down the street, across a neighbor’s backyard and when you finally reach the back porch of your home that you found refuge from the wet in, you realize that not only are your garment’s soaked, so is your favorite book.

Grumbling angrily to yourself as you step into the house, past the kitchen and dining room and into the receiving room as you head up the stairs. Your self pity is stopped abruptly in your tracks as your stepmother calls from the bottom of the stairs, appearing from thin air.

“You’re late,” she called and you turned around halfway up the steps, “and you’re drenched!” She shrieks and turns to your father who is just out of sight, “Paul! Please explain to your daughter about punctuality and being presentable!” Her hair is in an updo as she puts on her earring. Her dress is a beautiful pale, satin pink; she’s the epitome of punctual and presentable.

Your father appears from the other room, “Y/N, you were not supposed to leave the house without our permission. Do you not remember that you're grounded?” His voice is stern but softer than your step-mother’s.

“I’m eighteen dad, you can’t ground me!” You stomp, childishly on the stair you’re standing on above them, water droplets falling with your action.

Your father brings up his pointer finger in warning, “As long as you live under my roof, I can still ground you. Now,” he raises his finger and points above you to the second floor, “Please take good care of Sarah tonight.”

“She’s already down for the night,” your step-mother adds as your father walks into the other room, “But if she wakes, just-”

“I know, I know,” you cut her off, “rock her to sleep and sing her her favorite songs and while I’m at it, why don’t I just give her my favorite things?” You raise your arms in a dramatic shrug.

Your step-mother sighs and grabs the baluster of the staircase, “Y/N, please do not disrespect me,” she says with a soft-sternness too familiar to you from her mouth; a plea. “I’m trying Y/N, but you’re making it,” you roll your eyes and start to walk further up the stairs, “so hard!” Her last two words are yelled to you as you go to your room, slam the door, and fall face-first onto your bed trying to drown out her yelling from downstairs.

They make you angry, both of them. They didn’t understand you or your interests. But, your father at least had the good sense not to bug you about what he didn’t understand; she didn’t. She’d constantly ask you about the book, about your projects, about the different characters, all to only ask once more, as if she didn’t store away information so important to you in her mind. You’d assumed if she truly wanted to know you, she’d make an effort. The nicest thing she had done was getting you that music box but even then, she made it more about your hobby of sewing than your passion for the fantasy element.

After some time, you heard the front door slam and that seemed to wake Sarah. You took a deep sigh, internally cursing them for waking your sister, half-sister. Pulling yourself from the bed, you made your way across the hall in the direction of the screaming to your father and step-mother’s room where Sarah had been sleeping. As you opened the door, the screaming intensified and you covered your ears as you approached the crying toddler in her pink-striped pajamas. You picked the toddler up as she continued to scream, not soothed by your presence in the slightest. You bounced her trying to sing against her wails, pacing around the room hap-hazardly as Sarah’s screams only seemed to worsen. As you passed her cradle for the third time, you recognized a stuffed animal she had been sleeping with to soothe her; your stuffed animal toy. The one your mother had given you when you were a baby.

Of course they’d give Sarah your things, she was your replacement with your father’s new wife. She was their precious girl, you were just a product of his last marriage to them, an inconvenience. You thought bitterly about how your step-mother wanted you out of the house, away at university and out of her hair and then she could play “perfect” family with her perfect daughter and no more. Just the three of them, the way it was meant to be.

And in that moment, all your anger seemed to snap.

You raised Sarah up in the air, still screaming and recited the fateful words, the words no one should say, yet…you did.

“I can bear no longer!” Tears streamed down Sarah’s face, “I wish, I wish…Goblin King! Goblin King! Wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!” The wind rattled against the windows, making your heart skip a beat, wondering if somehow this chant had in fact, worked. But when you looked outside, you had just realized the sky was dark and the sun had set. You turn your attention back to Sarah as she continues to scream. “Ugh, Sarah,” you were impatient but now more relaxed as you let off steam. Laying her down, still crying, you grabbed the stuffed animal from her crib as she reached for it and walked back to your room briskly, to where it belonged. As you made your way across the hall, back toward the room Sarah was in, you heard her screaming abruptly stop. Your hand lingered above the handle of the door, wary as to why Sarah had stopped crying.

Opening the door, you called out, “Sarah?” Looking at her crib, you could see movements beneath the blanket but you couldn’t see her face. As you neared the crib, it moved sporadically, not in the way Sarah would move if she had fallen asleep. “Sarah?” You reached for the blanket to pull it from her face to make certain she was alright but the blanket moved again and you heard mischievous laughing from beneath. Your heartbeat quickened as you snatched the blanket from the crib to reveal nothing; Sarah was not there.

Behind you, you heard shuffling along the floor, then laughing as you turned, seeing a figure go underneath the queen bed skirt. Bending down in search of Sarah, you lifted the bed skirt to see nothing. “Sarah?” Your heart beat was quickening as you looked for your baby sister. “Sarah, this is not funny.” Something touched your leg and you jumped, looking down to see nothing. Shuffling was heard across the room and laughing from three different places were heard. You looked all around you in a panic, shadowy figures that resembled cats were hiding and peeking out from all around the room. You screeched as the creatures slowly emerged.

Suddenly behind you, the windows burst open with a warm gust of air and you quickly turned to be flooded with the white feathers of an owl. Covering your face so to not get scratched you shouted in fear. Then, the air was gone, the noise was gone, it was still. Slowly lowering your arms from your face, you were met with a towering, silver haired figure in a long coat, tight pants, knee high boots and an eye-patch….staring at you with a mischievous glint in his remaining eye.

And you knew.

“You’re him aren't you? You’re the Goblin King!” You accused, stepping back in fright. “I want my sister back, please, if it’s all the same.”

The corners of his mouth quirked, “What’s said is said.” His stern voice held finality.

“But I didn’t mean it,” you pleaded.

His smile grew from your words, “Oh you didn’t?” Raising a single brow.

A creature, a goblin, ran from behind you, frightening you into another shriek, between your legs and behind the King who waved his hands in front of each other and procured a glass-looking ball from what seemed thin air, like a magic trick. “I’ve brought you,” the orb danced across his fingertips as he transferred it from one hand to the other, “a gift.”

You felt inclined to take a step toward him but refused that feeling, “What is it?”

“It’s a crystal, nothing more. But, if you turn it this way and look into it,” he turned the crystal closer toward you, “it will show you your dreams. But it is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby.” He looked down to the crystal and his smile turned upside down as he looked up to you mischievously and threw the crystal at you, turning into a snake midair and landing on your chest. You screamed in terror as the snake fell to your feet and spun in tight circles, turning into a goblin and who laughed up at you.

When you raised your head to look at the king and you were suddenly in a new place, a realm of some sort, his realm. It was a dusty landscape and he stood above you, a warm wind blowing his silver locks across the tall black collar of his dust jacket. He raised a hand aside himself and procured an image of an ornate, golden grandfather clock whose hands spun sporadically. “You have twelve hours in which to solve the Labyrinth before your baby sister becomes one of us, forever.” He grinned devilishly, “At the center of the Labyrinth lies the Goblin City, and, my castle. You will find us there, waiting.” He pointed out beyond you.

You looked behind you to the massive maze in which you had to make it through in order to save your baby sister. At the center, far off in the distance, sitting atop a hill was a large castle: your destination.

“Turn back, turn back before it’s too late,” his voice rang behind you. As you turned you realized he had gotten closer, strangely close to you.

“I can’t,” you professed. “Don’t you know why I can't?”

He laughed deeply as he stepped backwards and began to disappear, “Such a pity.” His voice echoed around you, taunting you, encouraging you to fail.

You took a deep breath, stilling your mind and readied yourself for the task at hand. Turning, you set off and hurried down the hill to the tall, light dusty stone walls of the Labyrinth. Beginning your adventure into the world you had loved from pages for so long, that had now somehow, become your worst nightmare. You had to save your sister. You had to undo what you had caused. You had to solve the Labyrinth.

As you reached the towering walls you looked for an entrance into the maze and found there was none in sight, so you ran along the walls one way till you were nearly out of breath. Not seeing an end in sight, you turned and ran back the way you came and past that, until you were sorely out of breath. There was no entrance in sight, nothing but high stone walls that went on forever.

Feeling defeated and angry, you fell to the ground on your bottom, yelling, “It’s not fair!” Picking up a rock and throwing it to the wall without it to bounce back, rather, going through the wall. This puzzled you and you tilted your head.

“Life’s not fair,” a gravelly voice sounded behind you, causing you to startle. You saw a strange looking goblin walking about, spraying fairies and paying no mind to you.

“Hey! Don’t hurt them,” you reach out to scoop up an injured fairy that had been sprayed by this goblin. It looked at you with its little eyes and cute wings. You wondered why he had sprayed a thing so innocent and minding itself.

Then you felt a sharp sting in your hand and dropped the fairy, “Ow! It bit me!” Holding your hand to your mouth to stop the small pain.

“What did you expect a fairy to do?” He grogged and turned toward you as if we were dull.

“I don’t know…nice things like granting wishes?”

The goblin rolled his eyes, “Shows what you know, don’t it?” He returned to spraying the fairies but you had an idea.

Jumping up, “Hey, you live here don’t you? Why don’t you show me how to get into this place?” You put your hands on your hips with renewed hope.

The goblin and his sprayer turned, “Well, have you tried to get in?”

You furrowed your brow in confusion, “I’ve looked but there doesn't seem to be an entrance-”

“Just go through it,” he replied hastily, bored with your presence.

This puzzled you further. “Go through it?” You echoed and he merely nodded his head.

To get in you just walk in.” He spoke as if it were the plainest answer possible, the impossible.

Intrigued by his suggestion and oddly believing this goblin despite what help he offered to be very impossible, you decided to try it. So, you turned and walked to the stone wall with trepidation, hands raised. As you neared the wall, your hands slowly disappeared, then your arms, then you were on the other side of the wall, in the Labyrinth.

Elated, you returned back to the outside to thank this helpful goblin. “Wow, I just go through it!” He only rolled his eyes and returned to spraying the fairies. “Thank you, uh,” you hadn’t gotten his name.

“Hoggle,” he offered while paying you minimal attention.

“Thank you, Hoggle!” Excited, you slipped back into the maze. Turning around, you looked at the high walls before you and exhaled a deep sigh. Into the Labyrinth you went in search of your sister, to right your wrong, to defeat the Goblin King.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated but not necessary. ❤️❤️

IOF,NLAA Taglist: @sassysaxsolo @fan-goddess

#fanfic #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #gameofthrones #smut #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #labyrinth #aemond #aemond smut #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #goblin king #goblin king aemond #aemond one eye

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zoobus · 2 years

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I apologize in advance because I'm taking a tag way too seriously and this isn't even YA novel navalgazing, this is literally about a series written for 3rd graders.

I'm realizing "fucked up that the moral of this story was" is a minor trigger for me. It drives me insane in a way obviously unequal to whatever the original context is. But this is my blog so.

The American Girl series was not a moral-driven set of stories! They weren't Animorphs or anything but they were absolutely a kid's introduction to the intrinsic unfairness of life and a solid chunk of the stories ended with the """"moral"""" of the main character left to uncomfortably ponder why something so clearly not right could be allowed to continue before they clunkily skipped to the next story like the previous didn't happen.

I used to own several sets and I skimmed through a few before selling them some years back. The sudden harsh reality of whatever historical ills going on were part of the appeal! It was fucked up and scary and that's why they were good (to an elementary schooler to be clear, these aren't good books)

Like the "moral" of Nellie's story was that it was fucked up to be a child factory worker. It was fucked up that her response to "oh your hair is so pretty, you should grow it longer" was to recount the time she witnessed one of her elementary age coworker get scalped by one of the child labor machines. It was fucked up that she's 8 with PTSD. Of course Nellie got a happy end but like... abused little puppies getting cleaned up and spoiled is a popular media trope. It's not a lesson. Even though it works out for her, you're still left with the knowledge that the girl who's hair was ripped off her skull and untold number of fingerless kids were not adopted by Samantha's rich grandpa.

I'm rarely comfortable saying there's one specific point that a story is objectively going for and you're a fool if you don't see it, but I do think the American Girl series was intentional in showcasing period-specific suffering might have looked like in a way a little kid could conceptualize. And it worked! For example:

Molly, the WW2 American Girl (AG). Her family takes in a little Bri'ish girl and Molly's soooo excited wow imagine having a fancy English girl in your own house. She is irritated when the 9yo lass is very quiet and not into being her doll. After weeks of molly snipping at her, British girl goes off like sorry I'm not fucking prancing around you dumb bitch but I'm not here as a foreign exchange student, I'm here because my house got bombed and my friends and family are probably fucking dead

Samantha, the Victorian AG. We already know Nellie who, as explained before, had a very different life than the wealthy Samantha. But Samantha also had a black nanny she adored up until she disappears without warning. After a lot of snooping, she uncovers that nanny had a baby! So of course she sneaks out at night to find the little man for herself🤫

Her mischievous giggling starts to get more nervous as she gets closer to nanny's address. It's getting dirtier and shittier and there's only black people around and they're openly gawking but not approaching. People live here? Nanny lives here? With a baby? She eventually finds her and the baby who is cute but Samantha is left at the end like. Hm. So. I guess my life is not universal? Much to think about. There's no happy resolution to this. Nanny never returns, segregation continues.

Last one, Addy, the escaped slave (apparently a controversial opinion, but I liked Addy). The other stories take a bit to get to wham aspect, but with her? Right from the start we have Overseer catch Addy slacking while picking cotton. She's just not debugging fast enough. This grown adult man, so infuriated an eight year old child isn't picking cotton tobacco fast enough, forces her to eat one of the fat, green worms she missed. They describe Addy holding back tears, the worm bursting in her mouth, the bitter taste, the humiliation. I feel like this was the first time I like...*got* slavery. You learn about it in school, sure, but owning people, beating people, it sounded bad but unconnected to anything I knew. Like maybe it's because at the time of reading, I too was a daydreamy 8yo black girl, making it hit a little too close. How could anyone do that and feel justified? Or feel nothing at all? An adult made a little kid eat a bug and it didn't hurt his conscious? This guy probably goes to church and doesn't even remember this. He doesn't think he needs forgiveness. This is nothing to him. This is normal. He died thinking he did nothing wrong, probably. Those were my thoughts then. Very good.

These aren't morals. Of course you shouldn't expect a refugee to perform for their host family. Of course you shouldn't make a child eat a worm. Child labor is bad. Didactic American Girl was not.

#niche effortposts #American girl #if i had to say they went for a particular lesson it might be #8yo girls have been surviving the most insane shit since the dawn of time. we're not saying it was good. it was horrible.#nevertheless many made it out alive. believe in yourself👍

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cookienha · 5 months

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☆ the old piano in the corner of the dusty room

¦ barista!matthew x pianist!gn!reader, angst

¦ warnings: mentions of death and trauma

¦ a/n: -

The old piano in the corner of my dusty room remained silent. Its' keys, once vibrant with music, had fallen into disuse after a haunting incident that scarred me deeply — an event that shattered my perception on people.

A close friend, once trusted and cherished, intentionally sabotaged the piano performance. In an act of betrayal and perhaps jealousy, the piano strings were tampered with and the sheet music was subtly altered, and as I played during the recital which I'd considered crucial, the instrument produced dissonant and jarring notes, leading to a cacophony that marred the entire performance.

The intentional sabotage was a devastating blow, not just to my musical ability but also to my confidence and trust in those around me.

It created a profound sense of humiliation and vulnerability, the hushed murmurs and judgmental glances added fuel to the fire.

The final blow? It was when my own family started doubting my abilities, speculating the sudden decline in my so-called talent.

It truly shaped me into someone different. The piano, once a source of solace, became a haunting reminder of that painful night.

Following that incident, I decided to seek refuge in a small, quaint coffee shop. It became the place where he entered my life. It was a delightful coincidence, really.

I was engrossed in a book, enjoying the solitude, when a sudden collision disrupted the quiet surroundings.

Matthew (as his name tag suggested), with his barista apron and a genuine apologetic smile, had bumped into me, the contents of my bag spilled onto the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, bending down to help gather my scattered belongings. As we picked up books and loose papers, he continuously muttered apologies in which I dismissed. He insisted on making it up to me with a cup of coffee, though I originally refused the offer.

Matthew's warm eyes held a sincerity that turned a simple mishap into a serendipitous encounter. I couldn't refuse.

That was the moment when the coffee shop became the canvas where our connection unfolded.

From that moment, the unexpected encounter would be the prelude to a story filled with daily shared laughters, comforting conversations, and a love that would weather the storms yet to come. He became the haven from the painful notes of that forsaken piano.

Our initial meeting was serendipitous, marked by a simple exchange of smiles and a shared appreciation for art. Matthew's eyes sparkled with genuine interest as we spoke about our favorite things, and our laughter resonated in that cozy corner of the coffee shop.

As our connection deepened, Matthew, with his caring nature, gradually unearthed the untold story behind my silent piano.

"There's a story in every key," he would say, in a voice so soothing it lifted my problems away, gently encouraging me to revisit the instrument that held so much pain.

We explored the dusty memories of melodies and missed notes. "You don't have to face the past alone," He reassured.

His presence alone was a balm to my wounded soul, a comforting refuge as we stuck through thick and thin. Yet, unexpectedly, tragedy struck, casting a profound shadow over the solace he once provided.

Was it really a tragedy or was it a lingering curse casted upon me?

On one somber evening, I received a call that instantly shattered my world. Matthew, on his way home, was involved in a car accident.

It left me grappling with a grief I had never known. Was my past not enough to haunt me that the history of heartbreak had to unfold itself right infront of me again?

Matthew's sudden passing was like a melody abruptly cut off, leaving an unfinished symphony echoing in the chambers of my heart — a composition of love silenced, notes that lingered in the hollow spaces, yearning to be resolved but forever suspended in the haunting silence of grief.

In the quiet aftermath, the piano, once a silent witness, stood as a painful reminder of both the past and the love that slipped away. I could no longer bear the weight of the keys that once brought joy to my life.

The old piano in the corner of my dusty room remained silent, mirroring the desolation etched into my shattered heart.

#zb1 imagines #zb1 matthew #seok matthew #zerobaseone matthew #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zb1 #zb1 angst #matthew x reader #seok matthew x reader #zb1 matthew x reader

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swanmaids · 9 months

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original character-focussed fic recs

One of the best feelings for me as a fic writer in this fandom is when somebody tells me that they liked one of my original characters. Character creation can be hard work and nerve-wracking, so it’s really rewarding whenever people tell me that it’s paid off. This fandom has a wealth of fantastic, memorable original characters, so I wanted to make a recommendation list of some of my favourite fics that feature them. The fics in this list are a range of lengths, ratings, warnings, and themes, and I’m hoping everyone will be able to find something to their taste here.

Of course this list is not exhaustive, and I’m always open to more recommendations!

All the splendour they could bear by asterisq; t, 1k, cntw.

The Ar-Pharazôn (& Sauron) regime commissions art for the temple. The artist tries to survive the assignment.

Bitter Heart, Bitter Heart by thegreatpumpkin; f!Galathil/OFC, t, 20k, nawa.

She had loved her brother better once. She had loved them all better once; but too many times she had swallowed bitterness, and now her heart was all sown with ashes and salt. Noble Celeborn, wise Celeborn, shining in his place beside the king! Galathil was reminded at every turn of the ways in which she did not measure up.

The Bread Maker’s Lament by havisham; Morwen & OFC, t, 1k, nawa.

A young woman, living in First Age Hithlum, grapples with grief and loss, and bakes bread.

The Carpenter’s Son by @kareenvorbarra; OFC/OMC, m, 9k, rape/noncon.

An untold story of conquered Dor-lómin, in which an Easterling carpenter has a child by his Hadorian slave.

The Constant Gardner by tehta; OFC & Egalmoth, t, 4k, nawa.

Running Yavanna’s errands in First Age Middle-earth is a tough job, but someone has to do it.

To die in the light by @skyeventide; Maedhros & OFC, m, 6k, violence.

A thrall escapes Angband. This is the journey of what comes after.

Dwell in death’s shadow by @undercat-overdog; Curufin/Wife, g, 3.5k, nawa.

A child eavesdrops on an argument he was never meant to hear.

an ecstatic accident by void and fire by Chestnut_Pod; g, 0.5k, nawa.

Follow the blue roads of Arda.

The Elf Who Circumnavigated Arda in a Ship of Their Own Making by @arofili; OC & OFC, g, 1k, nawa

Three letters home from a Telerin adventurer.

Far Too Many of You Dying by @starspray; OFC & Teleri, t, 1k, cntw.

After the Noldor depart, Alqualondë is left reeling.

Four Winters by @aipilosse; Celegorm & OFC, t, 6k, nawa.

Four winters in the life of Gwíneth, daughter of Urthel. A rescue, a hunt, a fall, and the abyss.

His Hour Had Come by @polutrope; Saeros & OFC, g, 1k, nawa.

Saeros' daughter reflects on the life and actions of her father.

Lost at Sea by starspray, Uinen & OFC, 0.4k, g, nawa.

An Avarin elf accidentally gets lost at sea and gets stuck halfway onto the Straight Road. Uinen helps out.

These Newborn Shores by @kazaera; t, 14k, nawa.

It's the early Second Age and the Host of the Valar have just departed. The disparate refugees now sitting on the new shores of Lindon, tasked with building the fleet of Númenor even as they are still reeling from Beleriand's destruction, must find a way to move forward despite their losses.

Figuring out where to get their clothes from would be a good place to start.

Not by the Hand of Man by Sath, Tar-Miriel/OFC, e, 7k, nawa.

After his chief priestess is assassinated, Sauron summons his most powerful servant, a woman of Far Harad, to Númenor.

on a long road (miles to go) by Solanaceae, g, 5k, cntw.

Andreth in the House of Adanel.

One Who Holds by @slightnettles Elrond & OFC, g, 4k, nawa.

As the War of Wrath and the breaking of Beleriand approach, a woman of the Easterlings meets a young Elrond.

SeaLight by Anerea; g, 0.3k, nawa.

A Telerin Elf's first experience of the waters of Belegaer, at the end of the Great Journey.

A Seduction by The_Wavesinger; Tar-Miriel/OFC, e, 2k, cntw.

Tar-Míriel attempts to take revenge on her husband by seducing his sister.

Si la mar fuera de leche by Chestnut_Pod, Elros/OFC, Elros & OCs, t, 23k, nawa.

Ten years after the Valar pulled Númenor dripping from the sea, Elros receives a visitor.

Starlit Waves by raiyana; Cirdan/OFC, m, 2k, nawa.

“Congratulations, my love, you have made a plank. Yet again.” Dry tones teased his ears softly, the silent footsteps of his beloved Ngilith giving him no warning of her approach.

Talathien by maerzkindt; Haleth & OFCs g, 7k, nawa.

Linnoril, a woman from the group later known as House of Hador, returns to her mother's folk of the Haladin and joins the guard. An exploration of reconnecting, forming new bonds and playing fast and loose with First Age Edain lore.

The Thousand Stories by herenortherenearnorfar; OFC/OFC, t, 19k, mcd.

They're important, the myths people tell about themselves, about their histories. You can learn a lot from a tale or seven.

A Traitor’s Issue by herenortherenearnorfar; OFC & OFC,t, 16k, violence.

Ulfang's daughters(in-law) seek aid in the aftermath. Reckoning with their own grief and choices (or lack thereof) they navigate Angband, the nightmare they grew up with, now the only place they can turn for help.

The “Unmarried” Queen - Deficiencies in Numenorean Scholarship by Sath; Tar-Telperien/OFC, g, 1k, nawa.

Rosie Cotton and Samwise Gamgee's granddaughter, a scholar of short stature and lofty goals, finds an earth-shattering document being used to steady a table leg in Minas Tirith.

Willow-Meads by Narya_Flame; g, 5k, nawa.

a willow-spirit, some places she went, and the people she met.

the wind that shakes the mountain by platinum_firebird; OFC/OFC, t, 2k, nawa.

The tale of Mazlav, daughter of Temolv, chieftain of the Uzba clan; and of how she met her lover and companion-in-arms, Aalta of Ishahú.

With the Stars in the Darkness and the Love in the Light by Zdenka; Haleth/OFC, Haleth/Goldberry, Nellas/Goldberry, t, 3k, nawa.

At Nienor's request, the women of Brethil share stories and songs about Haleth, the river's daughter, and those they loved.

#my post #fic rec #the silm

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vixx-ari · 11 months

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If I had a nickel for everytime Joseph Walker played a character that passionately preaches about a false diety (and wear very tall hats AND say "on earth" very passionately) I would have two nickels which isn't a lot but I just realised it happend twice

[Image Description: On the left hand side is an image of the actor Joseph Walker playing his role of the evil Royal vizier in starkid production's parody musical, Twisted: the untold story of a royal vizier. He is in the middle of his performance with a very passionate and slightly unnerving expression. On the right hand side there is another image of Joseph Walker instead playing as Ducker, a character from another of starkid's original works, Firebringer. He is in the middle of singing the mini song "Duck is Lord", and has a very (slightly overly) pleased expression: End of description]

#Yep Moore starkid brainrot are you really surprised at this point?#Mid way through watching firebringer noticed this and had to post it before I forgot #But actually it's so strange how there's a lot of things that happen twice in starkid and they're not even connected-#Eh its probably just me #starkid #team starkid #starkid twisted #twisted the untold story of a royal vizier #firebringer #starkid productions #Even funnier that they actually have even more in common

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onlyplatonicirl · 7 months

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@lightyearssurrogatedaddy i saw your tags lol. cue incoming characterization essay because i dont want to do my homework:

I've actually attributed the sunk-cost fallacy to Error's mindset on multiple occasions, and it's something I'm going to be referencing in my writing when it comes up.

The sunk-cost fallacy is the core principle in regards to Error's character and why he does the things he does in TCOTI. You have this character (error) who has spent his entire life dedicated to an impossible goal: complete annihilation. At first it didn't really seem to matter whether or not it was pheasable - it was just something he felt that needed to happen. He made it his life's goal, he became the villian of the entire multiverse to see his plan through for what he thought would right the mess and clutter of a chaotic world that shouldn't have even existed. Of course, it's a stupid plan, and he has that plan because he's literally insane. Error's spent an untold amount of time in a white void, both his mind and body warping to an unrecognizable degree. His view of the world is skewed, and he sees things different than others - while being stubborn and refusing to listen to anyone's thoughts but himself.

My story (but you can apply this to potentially any story involving Error because I personally feel like it's on par with his character) takes place at least a century in the future. Time does not matter to world-walking immortals. He is no closer to his goal than when he first started. Why would he? Error is essentially trying to stop an immutable force of nature - the deviance of timelines and branching pathways of the multiverse. (And if we're taking the canon route in regards to creators, then he's attempting to stop people from creating.) It's a completely impossible task. Universes are created at a much quicker rate than he can destroy them.

Even in a hypothetical situation where he achieves his goal and nothing but the original universe remains, it's going to branch off again eventually. His goal of "killing everything and then himself" would never last because once he's gone, there won't be anyone else left to "take out the trash" that will once again branch off and spread through the entire multiverse. Not that it's ever even gotten to that point though.

And like a said - He's crazy. These aren't really concerns of his, nor is he following sound logic or reason to his plan. But while he is crazy, he is not stupid.

How long do you think it would take him before he realizes he isn't getting anywhere? That everything he destroys just ends up replacing itself in one form or another? My story is a hypothetical century later. He may be able to stall the growth by killing off a main universe, or potentially backtracking the progress, but it's not the same as permanently making a dent in the net growth. And perhaps he's eased himself into that routine, into being content with just keeping things at an even level of creation and destruction. But it's not the goal he has centered his entire existence around- and eventually in the very subconscious of his mind, after an uncountable amount of time doing the same thing his whole life -running on a treadmill towards nowhere - does he begin to wonder why he's still doing this.

It wouldn't even register to him as a fully formed thought. It would be a nagging feeling in his gut, a general unease. It would take him years to even recognize that something is wrong, to try and think about things that go against his ideology and his reason to be, as stubborn and narcissistic as he is. But eventually it surfaces as a fully formed thought:

Why is he still doing this?

He had a reason back then, but it's going no where. It's been ages. decades. Almost nothing has changed.

But the simple fact is, he can never really answer that thought. Because he has been on this path for so long, there is nothing else left for him outside of it.

Sunk-cost fallacy.

If he stops, if he tries to seek out an alternate path, than what was EVERYTHING he worked for for YEARS and YEARS even for?? He went through so much pain, he's isolated from the rest of the multiverse as a villain, he has solidified his place in the world. If he ever stopped, it would be admitting to himself that every second of his long existence so far has been a waste. That he has done nothing with himself, and that he worked for nothing but the insane whims of a corrupted mind, towards an unachievable goal.

The world continues to move on. The multiverse continues to grow and change. And he remains, destroying, and convincing himself that he's fine with forever keeping balence.

Because what else does he have left?

And the question he doesn't even think to consider: What of the future?

#error sans #loreltxt #i love going on long unhinged rants about my favorite Guys #feel free to disagree with me lol its just my personal interpretation #because like i said #hes not stupid #i dont think he could just do the same thing forever #he'd hit a breaking point eventually #because he has depth of emotions to him - he's not one demensional. he's a complicated character #if he was a one dimensional caracature of destruction i wouldnt be writing this analysis #but yeah #hes stubborn so an extreme version of the sunk-cost fallacy would be his mental downfall #his acknowledgement that something is wrong but he's too big a manbaby to ever admit it to himself #which is where ink comes in #i can write an entirely separate essay on that #anyway enjoj #utmv #undertale multiverse

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echt-analog · 1 year

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a thousand stories left untold

Agfa APX 100 (original emulsion)

#black and white #film photography #35mm film #35mm photography #Agfa APX 100 #analogue #analog #original photographers #photographers on tumblr #Agfa #echt-analog #film never dies #hamburg #speicherstadt #buy film not megapixels

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jiliansky-blog · 15 days

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Wake me up. Chapter 14. Feelings untold

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 2350

Morpheus

I didn’t know what had gotten into me. Usually, I court a woman sometime. And our adventures definitely weren’t courting. But I couldn’t just think strictly back there. And I was expected to feel better, but I didn’t. Was it a passion? Or was I really madly in love with this crazy girl?

“Do you think they found a new victim already?” I asked.

“Certainly”, Y\N replied. “In the original story, they choose another girl. He chooses the girl that he fell in love with”.

“Dark story,” I admitted.

"Indeed," she agreed. “There wasn’t a happy ending”.

“And why do you like this story?” I asked.

“I don’t know; this story was standing out for me years ago,” she said. “The main character, who is a writer, found her dark prince with a dark secret. But she has the strength to fight these demons, even if she loves him”.

"Interesting," I said.

Would she fight me if I turned against her? I didn’t want to check it out.

“Why are you frowning again?” she asked. “I’m not going to fight you. Oh damn, I don’t see them. Where are they?”

“They are your dreams,” I said. “Try to find them”.

“I suppose they can be at the hotel,” she said. “But they shouldn’t see you. They should think that I am alone”.

“I won’t leave you alone with murders,” I said.

“And you shouldn’t”, she smiled. “Can you be unnoticed or invisible? Or turn yourself into a raven? And then you can join me, when we… Oh! I know! You can be a raven at first and then turn yourself to a cat, so I can take you with me to their mansion”.

“I don’t like the idea, but alright,” I sighed. “I will do this”.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

We left the house. I turned to the raven, and she caught a cab and went to the hotel. I hope this will end soon.

When you entered the hotel, you asked where they stayed. And you ran to their room. Thomas was very surprised to see you.

“Y\N”, he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought you could leave without telling me,” you whispered.

“And where is your brother?” her sister asked.

“He is not my brother,” you said. “He is just my guardian. We had a fight, and he left somewhere. I took my chance…”

“Don’t worry,” Thomas said and made a quick look at his sister. “We will take care of you. Lucile, can I talk to her alone?”

"Alright," she said, and she went away.

“I will take care of you,” he said. “But we need to go back to England soon. Will your guardian look for you?”

“I don’t know”, you said. “He doesn’t where do you live”.

“You shouldn’t tell him either,” he said softly. And you think, What if all this was real? Would Lucile try to kill Morpheus as her guardian or fiancée too?

“I won’t”, you replied.

“I know, that we were meant me the moment I saw you», he whispered.

Did he tell this to all the women he married? You will never know it.

“I felt it too,” you replied. “Before I go with you, I need to pack my things before my guardian returns. And I need to take my cat”.

“Lucile... she doesn’t like pets,” he said.

“I can’t leave him,” you replied.

"Alright," Thomas sighed. “We will figure something out. Do you wish to stay with us?”

You were afraid to imagine how Morpheus could react to that. And you were even more scared of talking to crazy Lucile. Thomas was traumatized, but his sister was an absolute psychopath. You should return to Morpheus.

"No," you said almost apologetically. “I need to pack things”.

“Alright, should I take you home then?” he asked.

“Yes, you can,” you smiled.

Morpheus probably is going to be furious. But maybe he will stay with you tonight. You would love it. At least he doesn’t deny his feelings anymore.

“Are you sure that your guardian won’t follow you?” asked Thomas.

“I don’t know really”, you sighed.

You can sense that Morpheus flies nearby. Also, you hope he is not too angry. You talked to Thomas, and he was charming and smart. But less real than Morpheus. Perhaps Thomas just wants to charm you. Or it was your feelings for Morpheus.

“We are here,” you said. “Thank you”.

"Yes," he said, smiling and kissing your hand. “I will come for you when the time comes. Until then, farewell, Miss YN”.

"Farewell," you smiled.

The moment he went away, Morpheus appeared next to you in his human form. And he didn’t look pleased.

“I don’t like it,” he said.

“I know,” you said, taking his arm and going inside. “But they took the bite. Soon they will come for me, and you go with me”.

“I won’t leave you with them.” His eyes were burning with something.

“I didn’t ask you,” you smiled.

“You’re impossible,” he smirked.

“I know,” you replied. “You keep telling me this”.

And you kissed his cheek. Yes, Morpheus was definitely better. And he looks even more attractive in his black suit. With raven hair tied back. He was better than any other dream you have about men.

“So, how long should we wait?” he asked.

“I hope that it won’t be long”, you replied. “They should hurry if they don’t want to return you quickly and break their plan”.

“What if I were the guardian or your fiancée?” he asked. “What would they do?”

“They would probably try to kill you,” you said. “They did it to her father”.

“To the main character of this story?” he asked.

"Yes," you said. “They picked lonely women whom no one would look for”.

“But you’re not alone,” he said. “How would they explain murdering a young gentleman? He can’t just disappear”.

“Probably they would make it look like a natural death,” you shrugged. “But I have questions. And her friend had questions too”.

“Well, a surprise is waiting for them,” he smirked.

“Indeed”, you smiled. “A lot of surprises. The moment they come for me, you should turn into the cat”.

“You will pay for this,” he said.

“Will I?” you smiled.

“Oh, yes,” he said, kissing you again.

You kissed him back, embracing his very thin waste.

“You shouldn’t worry,” you smiled. “He is not better than you. Actually, no one is better than you, really”.

Morpheus

These words brought unusual feelings to me. She shouldn’t think that there is no one better than me. She should awaken and live her life.

“What?” she said. “Come on, I will pack my things and you tell me what is wrong again”.

"Nothing," I said, following her. I didn’t want to scold her again. “No one told me things like this before”.

“Really?” she looked at me, packing her things.

“Most of my lovers said that I’m awful,” I admitted with a sigh. “That is too much to handle. Perhaps they are right”.

“I think they are wrong”, she replied. “You are so serious and a little bit grumpy. But also, you are so much more than that”.

“You don’t know me,” I admitted.

“But I want to,” she smiled, and then all of her things were packed. And someone rang at her door. “They are here”.

I sighed again and turned into a big, black cat. She took me on the arms and started to pet.

“You are so fluffy and cute,” she smiled. “Let’s go”.

I meowed angrily, but let her take me to the door. Of course, it was Thomas. He looked at me with an uneasy expression.

“Are you ready, beloved?” he said.

“Yes, and... do you want to go right now?” she asked, looking confused and pet me a little bit nervous. What an actress.

“Yes, we could buy tickets for today,” he said. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast,” she replied.

Sharp helped her with a bag while she was holding me. A trip to England was long. Sharp, let us stay in a separate cabin, and I could turn into my human form again.

“So what is your plan?” I asked.

“I think we should find the evidence of their crimes and then confront them or leave the rest to the police,” she said.

“Or me”, I said.

“What?” she asked, looking at me.

“I can confront him and disable him,” I replied.

“Well, I suppose you can do it if something goes wrong,” she admitted. “And I’m glad that you are not jealous anymore”.

“Oh, I’m very jealous,” he smirked, kissing me.

And then I took a step back. This girl drives me crazy already. What is going to happen when she awakes, and we won’t see each other again?

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You act strange”.

“I shouldn’t get used to you,” I sighed.

“You are doing this again,” she said. “You are avoiding pain. Why? I am not going to leave you for Thomas”.

“It’s more than that”, I replied.

“What are you trying to say?” she asked.

At that moment, someone knocked on her door. It saved me from answering. I immediately turned to a cat.

“Who is there?” she asked.

“It’s me,” I heard Sharp’s voice.

Y\N looked at me quickly and then opened the door. She smiled innocently at him.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Lucile heard voices in your cabin,” he said, looking around the room. “So I decided to check if you are okay”.

“Perhaps I was talking to my cat,” she laughed. “Sometimes I do that when I feel lonely”.

“I’m sorry,” he blushed and looked guilty. “Did I make you feel lonely?”

“No, it’s okay”, she smiled. “He just is a little bit nervous. And I tried to calm him down. I’ve never been on a trip as well”.

“I can stay with you,” he suggested. “If you want”.

I couldn’t take it and hissed.

“Wow, it doesn’t like me,” Sharp said.

“He's just a little bit jealous of strangers,” she smiled apologetically. She pets me again. “But I prefer to stay alone. Your sister can be worried.”

“As you wish,” he nodded and left the room finally.

And I turned into a human again. She looked at me with a question.

“What was that hissing about?” she asked.

“I don’t like him to be here,” he replied.

“I got it,” she smiled and embraced me. “I wouldn’t sign you for this torture, and I don’t want his sister to spy on us”.

“She is devious”, I huffed.

“You don’t have an idea”, she smirked.

Finally, in a few days, we came to their old, rotten house. Y\N was shocked and impressed at the same time.

“It’s old,” she said.

“It’s all that we have,” he replied.

When he showed us his castle that was about to be destroyed, Y\N was left in her room alone with me. She sighed.

“We should get all the evidence at night,” she said. “In the basement”.

I felt cold when she talked about the basement. She noticed it and touched my hand.

“I will go there,” she said. “Can you get the keys from her?”

“Very well,” I nodded. “And I will make sure that they are sleeping. I...can go to the basement if we must.”

“You mustn’t,” she said softly. “I need you to make they won’t go there too. And I need keys to open the luggage.”

All the time until midnight, I was in cat form. Sharp and his sister can enter the room any moment. I shouldn’t spoil the final surprise for them. I stole keys from Lucile room and met with Y\N. She smiled and headed to the basement.

“I will return shortly,” she smiled, but I suddenly, for myself, took her hand.

“I will go with you,” I said.

“You shouldn’t,” she said, looking worried.

“I know,” I said. “But I want to help you. I don’t want you. To go there. Alone.”

She smiled softly, squeezed my hand, and we went to the elevator. The basement didn’t look like the one I was captured in. It was smaller, with wells full of some disgusting red liquids.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Clay,” she replied. “But I suspected they could hide bodies there”.

She quickly found a large piece of someone else’s baggage and opened it. And I found the documents about Sharp’s former wives.

“Now we can go and confront them,” she said. “We can call the police in the morning, and our mission will be done”.

“Glad to hear it.” I took her upstairs to the living room and kissed her to forget the cold of the basement and about my imprisonment. Unfortunately, she was smart and noticed.

“Do you want to talk about the basement?” Y\N asked.

“No, I don’t,” I replied.

“Morpheus,” she said. “You were literally trembling down there. Please, let me help you, as you are helping me.”

I was really trembling? How didn’t I notice that? Now I do remember that I felt so cold down here. And I made a deed to breathe.

“I was captured by an amateur magician named Roderick Burgess,” I said quietly. “He wanted to capture my sister but captured me instead, stripped me, took my belongings and put me in the glass prison. He wanted me to return his deceased son”.

“Oh, Morpheus,” she sighed. Her eyes were shining from unshed tears. “I’m so sorry! How long have you been here?”

“For more than one hundred years,” I said.

“Oh my god! That’s terrible!” She hugged me, and I realized that was trembling again. “No wonder that it’s your nightmare. I can’t even imagine it!”

“I…will recover,” I sighed.

I need to admit, that it was a good thing to be hugged like this. No one has done this to me for eons of years.

“I’m happy you can run out of there,” she whispered.

“Why?” I whispered back.

“Because I care about you, silly,” she smiled. “Now let’s return to the room, so we can rest before tomorrow.”

Usually, I would say that I don’t need rest. But this time, I didn’t. I was too stunned to argue after her words. Someone did care about me.

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe @ladymoztaza @sapphireonline @deniixlovezelda

#morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader #sandman fanfiction #the sandman

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journeytothewestresearch · 1 year

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The Origins of Red Boy

I believe I have found the origins of Red Boy (Hong hai'er, 紅孩兒), his name, and his fire powers from Journey to the West (Xiyouji, 西遊記, 1592). I plan to write an article for my research blog, but it probably won't be until next year. Until then, I want to post my findings here for all to read.

Although the 1592 edition of Journey to the West casts Red Boy as the son of Princess Iron Fan (Tieshan gongzhu, 鐵扇公主), an early-Ming zaju play that predates the novel says his mother is the demon goddess Hārītī (Guizimu, 鬼子母).

A 1st-century BCE Gandharan statue of Hārītī.

Scene 12 of the zaju play sees the Buddha trap Red Boy under his alms bowl in order to force Hārītī to mend her evil ways and convert to Buddhism. This story comes directly from Buddhist canon. Various sources tell how the demoness ate the children of untold numbers of human women, who eventually sought out the Buddha. The Enlightened One knew that Hārītī herself was the mother of 500 (or more) demon children and also that the youngest of them, a boy named either "Pingala" or "Priyankara" (sources vary), was her favorite. One version of the story ends with the demoness converting to Buddhism in order to save her beloved child, who had been hidden under the Buddha's alms bowl. Therefore, Red Boy can confidently be traced to Pingala-Priyankara.

A sketch of the Buddha's alms bowl.

The name Red Boy has puzzled me for some time, but thanks to art sent to me by an expert on Hārītī, I was able to crack the case. Some art shows Hārītī's son wearing red clothing⁠—i.e. a "Red Boy".

Detail from a 1440s temple mural depicting Hariti and her red-clad son.

The early-Ming zaju play doesn't associate Red Boy with fire. This appears to be a product of the 1592 edition. The novel calls his power "True Samādhi Fire" (Sanmei zhenhuo, 三昧眞火). It's so powerful that nothing short of Guanyin's holy dew can extinguish it. So where did his power come from?

A modern drawing of Red Boy's fire powers.

Journey to the West (1592) states that Guanyin gives Red Boy the religious name "Boy of Goodly Wealth" (Shancai tongzi, 善財童子) after he submits to Buddhism. This is the Chinese name of "Sudhana", a child cultivator famous for studying under 53 divine and mortal masters in the Gaṇḍavyūha Sūtra (c. 200-300).

An 11th or 12th-century print of Sudhana (left) and one of his teachers (right).

Sudhana's ninth teacher, Jayoṣmāyatana (Shengre poluomen, 勝熱婆羅門), likely influenced Red Boy's fire powers. The brahmin is said to wield a fearsome holy fire called the "Samādhi light of adamantine flame" (Jingang yan sanmei guangming, 金剛焰三昧光明). It's so powerful that it scares even the gods and demons, but it's true purpose is to incinerate the ego and enlighten the mind. Sudhana comes one step closer to enlightenment by jumping into the flames as instructed.

A Song or Ming-era Japanese painting of the fire brahmin and Sudhana.

The Gaṇḍavyūha Sūtra mentions that Jayoṣmāyatana practices extreme fire austerities on a flaming mountain. This is interesting because, despite Hārītī being Red Boy's mother in the early-Ming zaju play, Princess Iron Fan and the Flaming Mountain episode do appear later in scenes 18 to 20 of the production. Therefore, the author-compiler of Journey to the West (be it Wu Cheng'en or otherwise) could have combined the similar elements from each story, making Red Boy-Sudhana the son of Princess Iron Fan and giving him the brahmin's fire powers.

A 20th-century postcard depicting a battle between Princess Iron Fan and the Monkey King.

#Red Boy #Red Son #Journey to the West #JTTW #Princess Iron Fan #Hariti #Guizimu #fire powers #super powers #Samadhi #Lego Monkie Kid #Demon Bull King #Bull Demon King #research #Sun Wukong #Monkey King

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forgotten-lumis · 1 month

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Man Istg if Quadratum is in the Black Box then… I don’t even know man…

Like- it would make sense, no? Is this already a theory-

I think I’ve maybe sort of seen it around…?

MoM wants to trap the strongest Darknesses, and eliminate them, right? So… think of it like this;

Trapping Darkness in a place that doesn’t exist, aka Quadratum, would technically make the Darknesses literally not exist as well. Since you can’t physically kill them because they’re formless, then that would be the only way to get rid of them.

That kind of makes the Black Box a Pandora’s Box parallel, which, yeah, I’ve already seen that comparison floating around. It’s also literally shown as a kinda joke in Olympus in Kh3 when Pete and Maleficent dig it up lol.

Also, they said the Black Box contained “Hope”, which was the only thing left in Pandora’s Box after it had been opened in the original myth, and Pandora’s Box has been used to trap the “evils” of the world, aka Darkness.

Also, MoM calling this chance to trap the Darkness “Hope” makes a lot of sense, since it’s a means for him to reach his goal.

Though, there’s also the other aspect, the “unreality” part.

I feel like the Black Box is also kinda being used as a “Shrodinger’s Box” by the Master of Masters, to ensure that whatever is in it stays unreal, or unknowable.

You know, the whole thing with the cat where if you seal the cat in the box, then the cat is simultaneously dead and alive because you can’t know until you open it. This state of mind fits pretty well with the Kingdom Hearts universe as a whole. But in this case, we would also not know that there was a cat in the box in the first place so it’s even more mysterious.

By telling Luxu to never open the box, he’s keeping whatever is inside in this sort of limbo, since we know that in Kingdom Hearts you only need to be “seen to become real”. Through connecting with others, you exist. So if you are never seen, then wouldn’t that make you unreal? If no one ever sees Quadratum, and MoM disappears from reality to there (the only one who could have possibly even known what was in it, and that it existed), and tells Luxu to never open the box to even possibly know of its existence, then wouldn’t that make it “Unreality”? Since, from their side (of the box), it’s fiction, and never existed in the first place because no one ever connected to it? No one even knew about its existence at all, it exists outside of everyone’s reality and is therefore Unreality.

MoM also already trapped the other Darknesses in KHUX in a realm of Data, so it definitely works with the whole untold story of FF Versus-XIII linking to this narrative. If the world of Quadratum is perhaps a data work in the Black Box, and is that of Versus-XIII, but is one never seen by the world, then that whole story probably also exists in the realm of “Unreality”. It was never told and therefore people were never able to connect to it, so it exists outside of our realities.

In computing, a Black Box is also defined as a box that you cannot know the internal workings of, something that you can’t see into, but also can’t see out of.

From reality inside the box, whatever is outside would be “Unreality”, or fiction, because you can’t know about it and see out of the box, and it doesn’t exist within your own reality. So it’s a two way street, and Schrodinger’s cat doesn’t even know it’s in the box.

Also, the Black Box as a gaming console makes a lot of sense. You can’t interact with the Video game characters, and they can’t interact with you. In your reality, they’re unreal. And in theirs, you, the player, don’t exist either.

Imagine if Luxu had just been dragging around a really fancy looking PS4 with the only copy of FF Versus-XIII being run on it for all these years lmao.

Oh yeah, Quadratum also means “square”, so that’s fun. You know a square, like- a box- If you’re in Quadratum you’re literally “boxed in” there-

Anyways- yeah. We really cannot know anything because like- nothing has come out about it. But theories are fun and I literally cannot stop thinking about this. It is actually an issue, please- someone help me-

Maybe KH theorizers were the ones trapped in the box all along… I know I certainly am.

#kingdom hearts #kh #kh theory #kh meta #help me it’s literally so late #Quadratum #Master of Masters #Luxu #Black Box kh #idk lmao #I just really needed to post this lol

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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Doesnt the Skyscour Clan feel like the sort to follow the Revolation Tyrant Mnyull? Or, rather, ride at his front...

Imagine the days leading up to impact, portals tearing onto unsuspecting planets, ships descending from the silver void, legions of untold number raiding whole wildspaces.

Then they suddenly scatter, with or without their prize, the star vikings and astral war boys clear out as if smoked like bees.

Only days, if even that, are given to the raided few before a cosmic armageddon makes impact.

Campaign: Shore of the Silver Sea

As this eagle eyed reader mentioned, there’s been a trend in my writing over the past few months, seemingly unconnected occurrences that herald something great and cosmic, the emergence of a new campaign to launch your parties from the beach of the mundane into the vast and wondrous depths of the astral sea.

Our Story begins as many do, in the aftermath of a great storm: With the party having only a few nights past taken shelter in a portside tavern known as the Long Walk, waiting out the rain and the wind in the traditional manner: sitting by the hearth with the other patrons as they listen to the old salts spin yarns. One of those patrons was fellow of the royal botany society, who was more than happy to hire the party on as guides and escorts as he explores and documents the flora of the coast. This intrepid ( if a bit tepid) expedition rapidly heats up as the party stumble across a hidden cove and the fresh wrecks of two ships, one civilian, one royal navy, cast far from the sea and left without survivors.

This discovery leads the party to getting caught up in a silent tug-of-war between the navy and a secretive faction of smugglers, with one wrong decision ( likely them filling their packs with plundered goods) ending the party up on the wrong side of the law. On their way back to town however, the party watch as a light falls from the sky over the barony, forever changing their fates as they return to a realm that’s been touched by the stars.

Early Game

One of the tall tales told by the sailors at the Long Walk was of a marauding reaver king who invoked the ire of the sea god, who in turn brought down a wave so mighty that it smashed the reaver’s fleet to splinters and buried him in the rubble of his own castle. Buried so they say.. along with all the treasure he had taken from raiding richer ports... and while the story is likely exaggerated... it wouldn’t hurt to go take a look, would it?

Strange rumours trickle in from the hinterlands, odd folk on the roads, sightings of unnatural animals, talk of a cave where whispers of the past and imagined tomorrows dance. All of these threads will lead the party to a meeting with a potential mentor, an old lighthouse keeper who holds the mystery of the stars and stands against the cold cruelty of the void. Perhaps he can shed some illumination on the party’s current struggles

The star’s falling has caused chaos in the region’s capital: an arson spree, the baroness forcefully conscripting oracles, sightings of a dragon out in the wilderness. Trekking along with a professional hunter, the party discover that they are not on the tale of some feral drake looking to move into new territory, but a full dragon who seems to be purposefully searching the region with the help of a masked rider.

As it turns out, the dragon and rider are travellers from the astral sea, pilgrims following an omen from the goddess of guidance and starlight. They followed the star across worlds until it landed in the barony, and was eventually misplaced by a hapless young man rounded up by the baroness’s agents shortly after becoming an accidental oracle and asking the party for help earlier on their travels. Reuniting the star with its chosen seekers grants the party a vision of the future, of an attack they will not have time to avert.

Mid Game

Hollowed out by eons of immortality and war, a clan of astral elves has ripped open a portal and begun raiding the original port city the party started their adventure in, snapping up goods and taking hostages. Here is a decision point: should the party rush to save the innocents before help can be raised, they will be overwhelmed, taken captive and hauled away to the raider’s stronghold. Should they rally their new allies and arrive in force, they will be too late, and will have to seek out another means of travelling beyond the reaches of the waking world.

In the latter option, the party will find themselves portalling to Lydestrum, a city of glass floating in an eternal gyre of mist and wind, and the hub of their outerworld adventures. Here they might begin their search for the pirates by seeking rumors at the alien filled docks, make an alliance with local powers by helping to wrangle some storm-tossed architecutre, or simply sign on to a spelljammer ship and begin to learn their space-legs.

The bright maiden Urania is not the only goddess at work among the stars, for as the party explore the city they hear the name and see the handiwork of Nyx, Mother of Primordial Darkness. Catching a night blessed thief is enough to earn the party Nyx’s attention, who decides to rope the party into a little wager involving her astronomic counterpart and the disaperance of a sacred lantern before an imporatant voyage.

After meeting an artisan who can make marvelous weapons out of light, the party end up getting snared in local politics after this new friend is kidnapped from their shop. The trail leads them into conflict with blackmarket dealers from the plane of exiles and getting mixed up with the glass city’s political powers.

Tangling with the astral sea’s criminal element may have just paid off, as the party have managed to snag themsleves a star-chart pointing to what just might be the haul of a lifetime: The long abandoned manor of an archmage hidden in the vastness of the silver sea. What they find instead is a labyrinth of nightmare and splendour and fungus, which just might hold power and secrets that will aid them as the campaign closes.

One of the expeditions sailing out of the star port has its aim on discovering the much speculated origin of an eerie signal coming from a haunted nebula. As luck would have it, this happens to be a regional base of the elven pirates who attacked the party’s homeworld, who destroy the ship they’re travelling on, capture their companions, and leave the party stranded in the frigid barrens of a meteor field. Searching for shelter, they find the origin of the signal: the partial wreck of a long abandoned jammership still attempting to deliver its message. With a little elbow grease and some ghostly aid, the party can take this ship as their own, bring vengeance against he pirates, and begin hunting for the villains who set this all in motion.

Late Game

The party’s enemies are not simply slavers and pirates, they are recent converts to the following of Mnyull the revelation tyrant, a god of interplanetary conquest. He has tasked the rabid immortals with the reunification of their long scattered army, and the reactivation of the ancient weapon they were once tasked with guarding, a labour to which many including the party’s old friends have been put to work. If Mynull’s plan comes to completion, whole systems will be forced to submit, and if the party can bring evidence of this to their allies in Lydestrum, they may just have a chance to fight the pirate fleet on equal terms.

Fighting an army is one thing, defeating a god is another, and so the party are counselled to seek out the great celestial sage who makes weapons at the star-goddess’s behest. Therein the party must undertake a sea-spanning quest to gather the materials necessary to withstand their struggle: Venturing into shadowed vaults within the core of a moon-sized forge, seeking out the most dangerous and beautiful of lights at the edge of known space.

The Revelation Tyrant cares nothing for the fate of his pawns, merely that victory is achieved in his name, and so has planted the same vision of supremacy into the Skyscour elves as he did the leaders of Lydestrum. The idea of a weapon that could strike far away worlds, tribute and glory delivered by subjugated neighbours, a threat to that glory by a challenger from afar and the need to strike before that challenge is made. No matter who wins the battle, Mnyull benefits from the outcome, as the leader of the victorious force will be struck by further visions and ascend as the Tyrant’s physical avatar.

The Party will be hunted, possibly by former allies, into the depths of wildspace, unable to return home lest they single out their humble world as a target for the weapon. In that lonely and desperate moment the goddess will appear to them: Nyx, merciful but resigned will offer them a shroud, a means of hiding their world from Mnyull’s sight and sparing themselves the conquest others will doubtlessly suffer provided they give up sailing the astral sea forever. Bright Urania offers them a chance, a divinely ordained heading to slip back around their pursuers, back past the fleet they helped to provision and the weapon they ensured would be completed, and right to the foot of the tyrant’s throne. It is only a chance though, no guarantee they can pull it off without loss and sacrifice, no guarantee that they will win in the end.

We all know what the party will choose, Nyx does too, and when the heroes jet off to go on their suicide mission they’ll do so with the ancient goddess working from the shadows to turn aside the eyes of wary sentries. She’s had a cold, dark vault beyond the boundaries of reality picked out for Mnyull for quite some time. She just needed him to make the mistake of incarnating himself in one place so she could stick him in there all at once.

Art

#10 points to anon for paying attention #your note keeping would keep you and your friends alive in one of my games #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #spelljammer #campaign #Campaign start #sailing #astral #low level #mid level #high level #deity #nyx #prompt postage #Adventure Compendium

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