#there may be some collateral damage my BELOVED

[farity]

Let’s Pretend, part 5

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary:  The pretend engagement trope courtesy of Aemond and you

Warning:  Future smut.

Part 1    Part 2     Part 3

“Despite how much it pleases me to see you miserable, brother,” Aegon said, “will you just go fetch the girl?  She may have terrible taste in men, but she was amusing at times.”

Aemond shoved his brother against the wall, and Aegon laughed.  “You will shut your mouth.”

“She is most likely still on the road at this time.  You can have Vhagar roast her in that carriage, although there might be some collateral damage but what is that to us princes?”

Aemond let go of his brother, stared at him.  If only things were so easy.

“Don’t be a fool, little brother.  You aren’t doomed to a miserable marriage, Should you waste the opportunity, I might just cut off your hair while you sleep.”

“You will not touch his beautiful hair.”

Aegon rolled his eyes at the sound of Helaena’s voice.  “I need a fucking drink.”

* * * * * 

Aemond followed the road to her home, his mind a tangled mess.  He had no idea what he would say, if she was even willing to speak with him.  Half the time he wanted to throw himself a her feet and beg for her forgiveness and the other half he wanted to shake her and ask her why she would request such a thing from him, when he was barely able to control himself the times he’d held her in his arms.

He had grown accustomed to her presence.  Had felt her integrate herself so easily into his life that when she had surprised him by asking him to lay with her, he had not been ready for the realization of what that meant.  

She was quietly making herself irreplaceable to him and the moment he understood that, he had no choice but to pull back.  If life had taught him anything, it was that those who should love him didn’t care to.  Some simply ignored him while others actively hated him.  When he had stepped back, put up the wall between himself and any potential for heartache, he had not realized until too late the utter devastation that would ensue.

In the distance, he saw the carriage, and flew past it, all the way to the field where he had first left Vhagar back during that fateful visit when she had taken an arrow for him.  He had never told her he had felt her purposely move to keep the arrow from striking him.  She had simply, out of instinct, moved to keep him from harm, and he could not speak of it.  Not without irreparable damage to everything that had taken him years to craft.

He landed easily, his heart beginning to race, and he saw the guards at the back gate.  “If you wish to follow me, you may, I mean no harm to anyone,” he said when he walked past them.

He turned before anyone could reply, and headed toward the main road.

* * * * * 

You all heard the dragon’s roar.

You looked out the window, following Vhagar until she disappeared from your sight, and turned to find four eyes, all beloved to you, watching you.

“My darling,” your father said, “you know whatever you choose to do, I will stand behind you, as will our army.”

“Goodness, I hope it will not come to that,” you said, trying to sound less nervous than you were.  You hit the roof of the carriage, “stop!”

You opened the door, and turned to see your father and Lord Stoughton, hands clutched together, as you readied yourself to meet Aemond.  

He had stopped out in front of your home, and you saw that some of your guards stood some distance behind him.  You stopped a few paces from Aemond, unwilling to go any closer, then you sank into a slow, deep curtsy.  A few moments later, he bowed.  As usual, his expression was unreadable.

“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”

“Is that what bothers you?  That I did not say goodbye?”

“Yes.  No.”  He took a step forward and you felt the urge to run away.  “You left, just like that.  Without saying anything to me.”

This was an argument you had been ready for.  “You turned around and left when I was trying to talk to you, Aemond.  You left without listening to me.”

He looked to the side, as if trying to remember.  “And then I came back- you know, it does not matter.”

“Clearly.”

That muscle on his jaw that twitched when he was trying to control some emotion jumped.  “Why?  Will you tell me that much?”

“Because we no longer agree on what we want out of this.”

He took another step forward.  “Because I wouldn’t bed you.”

You’d thought about this argument, too.  You had had plenty of time to think about this conversation.  “Because of what you said after.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and you could now see the darker slashes of color on his cheeks.  “Because I want to preserve your good name and reputation.  That is why you are done with me.”

“Aemond, I wouldn’t have asked you to- you know-”

“Fuck you.”

You winced at the tone, the expression.  He meant to hurt you.

“Bed me, just like that.  I wasn’t expecting to lay with anyone that wasn’t my husband.”

“Yet you damn me for trying to preserve your name so you can make a good match later on?”

“There is no later on!  Don’t you get it?” you snapped, grateful for the fact that both the carriage and the guards were far away from you both.  “You’re still thinking there is going to be some other man after you, when in truth, I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t . . . “

“What?”

“Love you.”

He opened his mouth, eye wide, and said nothing.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to lay with me if I did not love you.”

Aemond closed his mouth, and gods damn the man, his face remained unreadable.  “I know,” he said quietly.

You did a double take, “what do you mean, you know?”

“I knew the moment you asked.”

You had thought you could not feel any worse than you already did, but yet again, you were surprised.  You could get through this.  You could survive this.  There could be a future for you where you were happy even though he knew you loved him and still chose to reject you.

“Well, then, since my declaration is as unpalatable to you as my earlier request, I will ask you to send the guards back and get out of my way so I can go home.”  You smoothed your skirts, praying to the Maiden you would not start crying.  Not until you were safely alone.  “No one will blame you.  I will say that my injury showed me life as a Targaryen is filled with dangers and I am simply not up to the task.  I am sure dozens of ladies will start putting about how brave and fearless they are.”

“You are brave, and fearless.”

You nodded.  “I am delighted to hear this praise from you, Prince Aemond.”

“Far more so than me.”

“Sure,” you replied.  “the man who masterfully wields the sword and rides that giant dragon is not as brave and fearless as I.”

He took another step toward you and this time, you did step back.  “I knew when you asked me,” he repeated.  “and it terrified me.”

“That is a horrible thing to say.  I suggest you do not say such things to your next betrothed.”

To your surprise, he laughed.  “Love has always been given at great cost, or  completely withheld.  Or used as a weapon.  In my experience.”

“It doesn’t have to be any of those things.”

“You took an arrow for me.  Do you not know how guilty I feel that you almost died?”

You shrugged, “you never said.”

He looked stricken.  “There are many things I have left unsaid,” he murmured.  “I know I deserve no second chance, but I will ask for one, should you think me worthy of it.”

You were about to reply, but then he took another step and placed a knee on the ground before you, and it was then you felt the tears begin.

“I have heard it say that a soulmate is not someone who matches you precisely, but instead a mirror that shows you the best and the worst of what you are,” he extended his hand, which you took immediately.  “You are that for me.  Be my betrothed, in truth this time, I will spend the rest of my days making sure you know how much I cherish you.  How much I love you.  How much I desire you.”

You pulled him up to standing and brought his face to yours so you could kiss him.  

“As many, many people have told me lately,” he whispered,  “I have been a fool.”

You wrapped your arms around him, let him kiss you and lift you off the ground, and when you pulled back, he brushed the tears off your cheeks.  

You heard the carriage drive past you and around the side of the house, and the guards turned and headed back inside, leaving you and Aemond alone outside.

* * * * * 

“Tell me,” he said as he walked around the pretty gardens with her on his arm.  “who else was on your list?”

She stopped, and he turned to find her giving him a look of exasperation.  “It does not matter.”

“I agree,” Aemond said.  “Who else?”

“Why? Will you go on a murdering spree?”

He considered the question, “well, Aegon still lives, which means I have successfully controlled my murdering impulses for years.”

“Oh good, that is very reassuring.”

“You will tell me, sooner or later.”  He pulled her close, kissed her until she parted her lips for him, wrapped an arm around her.  “I am very good at finding out information when I am determined.”  He continued tasting the sweetness of her mouth, and when he finally let her go, her eyes were heavy lidded and her cheeks were flushed.  

“I believe I will tell you anything you wish if you keep kissing me like that.”

His eye went to her mouth, then back up to her eyes.  “I will remember that.”  He ran the back of his fingers down the side of her face.  “You are everything that is precious to me.”

“As are you, Aemond.”

He smiled suddenly.  “Lord Stoughton made sure to let me know, before you left the keep, that he has an affinity, and should the need arise, a great talent for concocting poisons.”

She laughed, the sound of light and warmth, and he pulled her in to kiss her hair, the familiar scent now welcome.

“Will you tell me about them?”

There was some hesitation in her gaze when she looked up at him, but she nodded.  “Lord Stoughton is the son of an old Baron from the Vale, he was a ward of my grandfather, a few years younger than my father but they grew up together.  When father married, and the wardship was over, Lord Stoughton went back home.”  She smoothed her skirts nervously.  “A couple of years after mother died they met again.  I have known him all my life, he was just always there and I never questioned it.  He is kind and father is happy.  Once I knew what things were, I realized how much they were willing to risk.”  She tugged on Aemond’s hand and he turned to face her.  “I will see no harm of any kind come to them.”

Aemond nodded.  “I would say or do nothing that would ever cause them or you any harm.”  When she smiled at him, he continued.  “So now a choice is upon you, my lady.  Send for your Septon and marry me here tonight, or we head back to King’s Landing and you marry me there tonight.”

* * * * * 

Tagging:

@arryn-nyx   @girlwith-thepearlearring    @greenowlfactif  @hydrationqueensworld    @megzdoodle   @melsunshine  @queenofshinigamis     @throughgoeshamilton   @travelingmypassion    @watercolorskyy  @zillahvathek

@hb8301   @kaemond-zafiro    @arcielee

Tagging for this fic:

@shros3b  @malfoytargaryen @fedeffy @randomdragonfires  @issshhh  @opheliaas-stuff   @brianochka    @devils-blackrose​  @wolflinkpaws​  ​   @fangirlninja67​   @dahlias-and-marigolds​

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction

[allycat75]

You know what I think of when I hear "I had no choice"?

When it is in reference to a rich white male who starred in a billion dollar franchise, I would have to say that you must have made some big mistakes that led up to this horrible choice, regardless of how many people you support or how much your team was supposed to take off the top. You didn't look close enough at a thing that burned your charmed life to the ground because nothing bad had ever happened before (you even said something so flip and callous during an interview about meditation during the "Lightyear" press tour- it was so shockingly dangerous I remembered it as disturbing even when I was still blinded by The Woke Political Avenger persona).

This lack of ability to cope with a bit of discomfort led you into a fantasy world, not unlike the construct your team created of you for your fans as a Disney Prince, living in your own fairy tale. You didn't have to confront some very concrete realities lurking in the shadows, until you actually did, only they grew exponentially enormous in size and in a moment of "Ready, Shoot, Aim" you decided this was your only option.

So do I feel bad? Yes, but not at any commensurate level to what you should be feeling. I am sensitive you suffer from anxiety and I do believe you have a good heart; part of the reason you got into this mess is that you gave too much and trusted too freely, but I also think you have been coddled and shielded from confronting the demons we all face, also contributing to your current demise.

So I am going to try to be delicate because I know you hate yourself (also a cause of this mess), but I am not going to sugar coat (I'm a Sagittarius and I'm owning my brutal honesty, but as my sister sign of Gemini you should respect that).

Your seemingly no choice decision, even if it had been successful to get you a string of plum roles, hurt many people. The teacher who had to quit because she supported a charity. Jinx, the small dog food company who thought they were signing America's dog dad to help establish themselves in the marketplace. Your loyal fans who saved you from a shattering embarrassment, just to be sacrificed as jealous, crazy and stupid for telling the truth. The people of marginalized communities who believed you were an ally, only to tie yourself- first as a boyfriend, then as a "husband", and hopefully soon as an 'ex-husband"- to an antisemetic, racist fat-shammer, making you guilty by association. And let's not forget all of the talented, hard working actresses that deserved a shot at their dreams- much more than your arrogant, immature, lazy, untalented and entitled wifey. They are all collateral damage in your scheme to save yourself.

But worst of all, you have used your family, friends and even your beloved dog to further this lie, over and over. I suspect this has not gone over well and many of these precious relationships are now strained. I am sure they would rather have you happy, present and whole than be treated to all expense paid trips to Disney World. And if not, they are just clout chasers and you should divest of them.

And what did you get? Still sucking hind teat for any roles, let alone good ones. And you know why? Because the same people who convinced you this was a good idea have something personally to gain by keeping you vulnerable and weak, and are the same ones giving you dreadful scripts, if any scripts at all. You are no longer an actor, but a reality TV star working 24-7 and not getting paid. In fact, I bet for every mistake made or engineered, they billed you for every second of clean up. You may have gotten a part or two, but all are a bit dubious in quality, and where before you could draw an audience to a mediocre or just plain terrible film to, at worst, break even, you are now often the reason it is labeled as awful and, unlike the dick pic, there are no loyal fans to save you. You don't fuck around with karma- it is real and it will find you in whatever pottery shed you hide.

I don't expect you to be super human. But you do have an obligation to be human, flaws and all. And right now you are an automaton, who has no clue of what you stand for because you sacrificed all of that for the handful of magic Nazi beans. Until you can get to the bare minimum of a person- maybe provide an elevator speech of who you are at your core- let yourself feel this pain and emptiness so you are never tempted to go down this road again. It is like an addiction and you need to detox the selfish, shallow privlege out of you.

Trust is the hardest thing to earn back and is at the backbone of any solid relationship so if you want it, you are headed for a dark, tough road ahead and you will have to work harder and more diligently than you will ever have to for anything else in your life, with no guarantee of external reward.

But is it worse than what you are feeling now?

#decide what to be and go be it #who are you? #is this who you want to be? #Get some serious help #Just screaming into a void #Karma and hubris are a bitch!

[corimoss]

I've just received copies of The Dreaming #53 and #54 which are apart of the Exiles storyline featuring the Corinthian and his human love interest, Sila Duriyanga! So far as I could tell there isn't a bunch of information about their relationship online, so for those interested I will do my best to help explain.

As a preface, this post contains spoilers for both The Dreaming storyline as the Sandman storyline in small amounts. I have not read the entirety of The Dreaming storyline and am primarily focused on collecting the Corinthian-specific comics. That being said, I have am waiting on The Dreaming #52 as well as #17, #18, and #19 which I believe have further context. Some of the information on this post may be lacking due to this, but I will do my best to update when I have more information.

I will try to keep spoilers as minimal as I can, but the essential context due to the Corinthian's meddling in certain affairs leading to the death of a beloved character, Morpheus turns him into a human to learn about pain and suffering. During this time he lives in Bangkok, Thailand under the name of Alex Corinth.

He finds love with a gender nonconforming man named Sila Duriyanga and eventually becomes satisfied with the human life and love that he's found. This set of comics is where his infamous "Nobody Knows I'm A Serial Killer" shirt comes from, and instead of teeth for eyes he has bright baby blues! I also love the addition of the one silver ring earring, he's so darling.

In the end though, against his best efforts Sila is killed as collateral damage during an plot-related attack. After learning about the human emotions of fear and loss, Dream offers him his position as the Corinthian back, but he declines, stating "No. Not yet. I couldn't go back now. Not alone." The comic ends with him holding Sila's lifeless body.

As tragic as this end is, it was nice to see the Corinthian truly care about someone close to him. The gentleness with which he treats Sila is so touching, his concern is evident throughout each panel he's in with his mind solely focused on finding his boyfriend with little regard for his own safety or interests. Here's a couple of panels of them being sweet together to make up for that horridly sad ending :-)

Thank you for reading! I hope this context helps anyone who is looking for it. It's very hard to find niche information online so if you have any questions please feel free to send me an ask and I will do my best to find out for you, it's really quite a special interest to me so I don't mind at all.

#corinthian #the corinthian #sila #sila duriyanga #sandman #the sandman #collection

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Moe Violence: or How I Struck the Jidaigeki Goldmine

I lost a close friend recently. A really close one and it was the kind of sudden bolt from the blue that’s really just fate waking up and deciding to kick you in the teeth. He liked old Western movies and was enough of a film buff to know how much back-and-forth there was with samurai cinema. So we had a lot of fun talking about movies. Made me want to finally get through a stack of films I’ve dug up on archive.org. Liking what I like, I think this binge has helped get a lot of clarity on where we started with looking at Lady Snowblood & Red Swallow Oyuki. (Oh...by the way. I plum forgot Snowblood’s auntie/confidant type figure was named Okiku. Always has a basket of yellow mums outside her door)

Started with checking out a trio of films the absolutely wonderful Junko Miyazono did after Red Swallow. Series is called Tales of the Poison Seductress; Hannya Ohyaku, Quick-Draw Okatsu, & Okatsu the Fugitive. They’re all standalone, caution though they’re very violent. SA is a factor too but from what I’ve seen most of the scenes may drag but try to keep it not too graphic. I say that as someone pretty turned off but “losing her virtue” is a threat hanging around frequently in these and there’s a torture element. This is 60s/70s Japanese Grindhouse cinema, the type of thing that inspired gory directors like Quentin Tarantino. It ain’t for everyone and that’s why I wanna gush about it here. What I’m getting more and more though is that pinning our beloved Okiku to one jidaigeki reference is a fool’s errand. My dears, she’s an ode to an entire subgenre!

Let’s not split hairs over the specific category of Toei films and slightly different ones with a female lead. The term I see used is “Pinky Violence.” Pinky coming from having female leads and being very sexually charged affairs. Toei needed to do something to compete with more Western movies making it over, so they opted for shock value and the way they went for it ended up giving us a pretty feminist genre. Not to say these were all jidaigeki which means “period drama.” There were a lot of modern ones I have yet to dive into heavily. Before Lady Snowblood Meiko Kaji gave us a really fun looking 6-part series called Stray Cat Rock for a great example. Machine guns, motorcycles, and LSD. They look awesome and check this aesthetic! I’m in love.

That knowledge does make me think of Nami and the early design with a missing arm. Jojo’s Stone Ocean as well while we’re at it. There’s also a fair number of Yakuza movies that fall sorta in between like the Red Peony Gambler (Hibotan Bakuto) series. It’s all a little nebulous if you want to get into the weeds. There’s a few different styles from a few different studios but make no mistake. These were popular movies in Japan. Big studios like Toei were churning them out as B movies to maintain relevance. Compete with television and Hollywood’s resources.  

Know what isn’t nebulous? Yeah...the hallmarks of the genre are big things we see out of Okiku’s role in Wano. The otherwise perfect lady with some little hook that means she isn’t “marriage material.” The whole arc of showing she can kick as much ass as any man but always reminding you of the lady playing the part. A big, big shared element is this core theme of taking down corrupt officials who abuse their power. Urashima the Yokozuna is exactly the type of guy who’d end up a villain in these. Sticking up for humble villagers, looking out for other women and children. Being the collateral damage of “great” men’s ambitions is what we tend to see over traditional fare like say, reinstalling a dynasty. I love the running theme of these being so much more local in scope. And Kiku gets that modern twist of her being trans for the “excuse.” I adore that in contrast to anime trends of needing to make an excuse for the deviance. My dead sister was the favorite, I went silly due to trauma, etc. This trope and trend of subversion is a big reason I love the mistaken bride idea. 

The more of these I see, and I’m friggin hooked these days, the more I see little bits and bobs that feel like they may have shaped our beautiful flower of Wano. And others! She’s a little more than a simple homage though. We do see the violence part pretty well for One Piece. Kiku gets the shit beaten out of her on Onigashima and it is gory by this manga’s standards. That’s where the modernization seems to be though. We tone down the sexuality for cute. Which isn’t that off base, the archetype in historical settings typically does have that innocent and sweet side. One Piece just isn’t the type of series you’re going to actually see things like making good on Tama’s intro of fleeing from being sold to the red light district. Even if it didn’t make it in the proper story, Kiku & Izo’s origin does flirt with that kind of content more than the series usually would. Hell, we do get Holdem torturing Tama and the series just fades to black on a similar spot for Tsuru. 

Wano made this genre feel familiar already. Snowblood loves it some anachronic storytelling, Red Peony sets up and ends films with a non-diagetic theatrical framing. Ohyaku uses a big simpleton to bust out of a prison camp. Speaking of, can I please get someone whipping a hair stick like a dart? That’s my favorite little signature from the Red Peony. Oryu in those is a fun protagonist played by Junko Fuji. That’s one of the more accessible series, less graphic than One Piece so far, and she plays with gender as a theme more. Proclaims to be a man but we always see deep down she’s still a lady that wishes she could have married the honest merchant’s son. Oh...and almost all of these ladies are total daddy’s girls like Kiku acts towards Kin. That whole series gets its own because there’s eight of them and they’re soooo good. 

Eiichiro Oda is a great writer and worldbuilder...but he’s actually pretty derivative. One Piece doesn’t break ground as much as refine the dominant genre when it started, even Rurouni Kenshin was more subversive for shonen. The more I see of these though, the more I see Oda just being this big kid who thought these old movies were so cool and couldn’t wait to rip into his samurai gang. Of course one of em if gonna be a little Junko Miyazono/Meiko Kaji being a fierce strong-willed lady of war. These movies are classic cool!

#one piece #wano arc #okiku #red peony gambler #hibotan bakuto #hannya ohyaku #quick draw okatsu #junko miyazono #junko fuji #inspirations and influences

[nobleriver]

Do you ever feel like one companion/guest star is less special than the other because of the way the next one is written? I love River and I know that they made her very special even when she wasn't around. But I can't force myself to watch Clara. It's like she makes River more insignificant. I don't know if I'll ever be able to watch it.

Hi, Anon. Apologies for the delay. It took me a while to answer because I really wanted to give this some proper thought before answering.

Short answer. No.

Long answer. Absolutely not. Why? Because the existence of one character doesn’t nullify or mitigate the impact of the other. Just because someone leaves the show and someone else shows up, that doesn’t make the original character less important. Clara and River are two completely different characters with separate arcs. One has nothing to do with the other.

River Song in-universe is not treated as insignificant. She’s been leading her own Big Finish series since 2015. Beauty, brains, and gunpowder tangled up in one character. She’s beloved by many. Moreover, romance-wise, it’s canonically established that the Doctor is in love with her. The 12th Doctor carried around a photo of her and would talk to it. To this day, the Doctor still calls River wife. But I suspect the way River’s departure was handled in 7b is what you’re really reacting against.

Imagine. What if RTD had handled Rose’s goodbye the way Moffat handled River’s? What if he had had Rose in the TARDIS one episode, and suddenly, mid S2, had Rose disappear offscreen and show the Doctor kissing Martha in the next episode? And then 7 episodes later dropped the bomb Rose was gone, stuck on a parallel universe? What a disservice to Rose’s character that would have been.

But that’s exactly what Moffat did to River in S7. He had River state she would travel with the Doctor for a time. Then, next episode, the Doctor is being kissed by Clara and River is nowhere to be seen. Where is she? And then 7 episodes later, we find out she’s been dead. We get one scene with them saying goodbye to each other, and she’s gone. He literally off-screened the doctor’s wife as if she was minor character and then shoehorned her goodbye into the finale. That may not have been the intention, but for many it was the result.

Even Alex Kingston commented that 7b goodbye felt incomplete:

“I didn’t really know my role in [The Name of the Doctor]. For me, it was sort of a strange episode. It ended in a way that I felt I was somewhat left hanging with no idea or confirmation or anything that my character would be back. In the time in-between meeting fans, of course, that was the overriding question. ‘When is River coming back?””

Unfortunately, Clara’s arrival coincides with this botched goodbye, and some people conflate that sense of injustice - of River being shafted - with Clara. And she becomes collateral damage. Funny enough, I just saw someone on Twitter watching 7b for the first time also getting upset about Clara, wondering where River was. Yet, it’s not Clara’s fault. River’s goodbye just wasn’t handled properly the first time around.

I will say, Moffat fixes it in later seasons. He gives River a 2nd departure, a farewell more befitting of her character’s station and emphasizes how special she is to the Doctor. She finally gets her proper send off.

So to sum up. Clara has nothing to do with River. It’s just coincidence that River’s arc suffers from a few writing mistakes around the time Clara arrives. Still, if you don’t want to watch Clara’s episodes, don’t. Doctor Who is for fun. If you think watching a certain season, doctor, or companion will make you enjoy Who less, you don’t have to watch, and no one can force you. To be fair though, one can enjoy season 9 even if one doesn’t like Clara. It’s just brilliant writing. Nevertheless, it’s up to you.

#doctor who #text #asks #personal #please note. I absolutely adore Moffat’s writing and think he’s exceptional #he gave me River; my favorite character in all of Who #and just like with everything I love; I like to think abt it critically

[arcann]

6, 7, 18 for taigat my beloved

Thank you jay!!!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

6. What did they think of Hydaelyn in the beginning? Did they change their mind about her since then?

At first Taigat thought she was a bad dream especially since she came to them mostly with warnings about the horrible things that would happen. They didn't appreciate being treated like a medium for action but if it was the only way to obtain valuable information so be it. Using Minfilia as the Voice angered them since the two were very close and Taigat had feelings for her they never got to confess. The echo has brought them a lot of problems but it has protected them from things they could never fight off. Her conflict with the ascians does make them admire her and see her as some kind of silent and mysterious but caring leader as they learn more about her. It's a mixed bag all in all. Sometimes they feel like they're being treated like a cog for her higher plans. Sometimes they feel so much love coming from her they can't deny it's not real.

Like a mother.

7. What made them join the Scions? What do they think about them now?

The first time around (Legacy) it was because Papalymo and Yda were one of the most affable people they knew in Eorzea and working with the duo seemed like a good prospect to start with. They knew nobody in the continent and they rode off with the first people who were nice to them. The second time around the coincidences were not vague enough to notice that something was guiding them to the very same group. Either way they love the Scions like a family, they share the good and the bad. They miss their friends when they spend too much time away. They sometimes get a bit jealous when they spend time with other people. They are fiercely protective over them.

18. How should History remember Ilberd in their opinion? Why?

This is the part where I disagree with canon and Ilberd lived and his faction joins the effort to push the garleans out of Ala Mhigo just apart from the resistance due to personal conflict and distrust.

Part of them, the closest and most visible part, feels Alphinaud's pain for that betrayal and very rude awakening to how flawed he could be. Another part of them, the one they repress a bit more but is still glaringly obvious, remembers how terrible that party was and how many of the scions are still carrying the injuries and trauma of that night. But that's very personal and while they may never see eye to eye with that man, they know as everyone knows that he loves his country with a love so intense and powerful it pushed back a terrible machine before anyone else could react. Ilberd paved the way for them at Baelsar's Wall and played a vital part in the rebellion so he deserves to be remembered as a tactical and intelligent leader who, in that very particular case, proved that the ends justified the means. Very few can say that and, being collateral damage, Taigat can't really accept it but the world has to. There are things worth fighting for with everything you have. Everything.

#oc: taigat

[cockbiteproductions]

every time i think about it objectively im like YEAH bleach and harry potter are two WILDLY different series and it’d be insane to do a crossover between them but that’s only when i think about it objectively. the rest of the time i remember the Incredibly Large Amount of bleach/hp crossover fic i read in middle school so every time i see ichigo and hogwarts in the same sentence i don’t even blink.

#teresa talks #not rt #yes i AM rereading my most reread fic ever there may be some collateral damage #there may be some collateral damage my BELOVED #it's so good it's truly so fucking good the way the author leans into the stark differences in personality types of characters in the 2 worl #ds is so good like oh my god i cannot believe no other bleach/hp crossover does this metisket you are a GENIUS and i trust u with my life #im so sorry everyone im going through my periodic bleach phase again and this time it's come on VERY strong #who knows when im going to escape again it might be months #anyways go read there may be some collateral damage by metisket on ao3 #top 10 fics of all time

[polydeuces]

Can't Stop Loving You

Fabrizio Moretti x Fem reader

requests are open!

liked by thestrokez, loverofy/n, and 583,294 others

@fabmorettifan: ok so there's this rumour going around that fabrizio is dating singer y/n l/n. idk it's true but lots of news outlets are commenting on it & fans too. tbh ive seen y/n and she's super pretty and super chill so i think it's awesome if they are a thing.

View all 293 comments

@thestrokez: Idk but fab doesn't have ig or anything and i think it's wrong to speculate when he can't speak for himself on social media.

@y/nl/updates: Both of them are pretty private so I'm unsure if we'll get confirmation. Plus, this rumor comes back up every few months.

@fabrizioswife: Ok but if they are 2gether.. Power couple right there! 😩

@loverofy/n: @thisisy/n please answer this question we need answers!!! 💗

@notthestrokes: ❓❓❓

liked by taylornation, robertpattinson, and 1,869,948 others

@thisisy/n: I don't belong and, my beloved neither do you...

View all 839,724 comments

@warrenjfu: OH that 4th pic lord have mercy!!

@thestrokes: arctic monkeys? 😏

@oliviarodrigo: rockstar bf & actress it girl gf

@margotrobbie: I'm in love with you two

@zendaya: 🤎🤎

liked by ellenpompeo, haimtheband, and 193,294, 294 others

@yourfriend: dinner & wine! 🍷 🕯️

tagged: thisisy/n, thestrokes, haimtheband

View all 42,924 comments

@y/nl/nupdates: WAIT HAIM WAS THERE??

@loverofy/n: fishy. this smells fishy. 🤔

@haimtheband: lookin’ good y/f/n 🤎

@fabandy/nfan: drums?..uh who's house is this?

@thisisy/n: Such a lovely night! music, card games, dinner, good wine, and brilliant company. Kisses!

FIVE MONTHS LATER

The eighth studio album by singer-songwriter Y/n L/n. This album dives into the story of a thread connecting two strangers that exists long before either realizes it’s there, and their life together in the aftermath. fate, you may call it. With tracks such as ‘Only daises on my casket’ and ‘Finish the bottle of wine’ L/n explores the minds of characters who have lost themselves as a result of the collateral damage that occurred within the end of their relationship. The singer-songwriter has a reputation of putting out gut-wrenching songs with detailed storytelling; this time she surprised us with something that exceeds all expectations.

Pulling on the heartstrings of listeners, L/n takes us on a journey analyzing the beginning of the end and the ups and downs of these characters. Through love ballads and indie-esque tracks, we see this story unravel. One love song on this record that's worth noting (as it may tap into Y/n’s relationships) is the track, Featuring The strokes, ‘My Kind Of Stranger’ which speaks about meeting the person you know you were fated to be with.

The harmonies and soft guitar playing bring it to life and make your head spin. Every song on this album is interconnected; much like the story itself. “Tried to swim so close to you, pull the life vest onto you, breathe the life back into you, but it was no use.” sings Danielle, lead singer of HAIM, on the track ‘Seeking a remedy’ where the character, in effort to save their partner, losses themself in the process.

It's an album full of sorrow and closure. It simultaneously rips your heart in two while mending your soul. It's one for the books. Maybe there's some truth to these character's partnership in the singer's real life, we'll have to wait and see. Y/n L/n’s surprise album, Courage Of Fools, is out now on all platforms.

#social media au #fake instagram #carefulwithpain #celebrityinstagram #y/n instagram #y/n smau #the strokes fanfic #fabrizio moretti #fabrizio moretti x reader #juliancasblancasfanfic #julian casablancas fake instagram #fabrizio moretti fake Instagram #rockstar’s girlfriend #x fem reader #actress y/n

[liron-ao3]

Everything hurts

Everything hurts. Not only his tiny, stupid, broken heart. That one knows the drill.

Loving – hurting – writing – singing – healing – repeat.

It’s not Jaskier’s first heartbreak. It isn’t even the first time someone took him down amid soulful agony, Jaskier just collateral damage in someone else’s explosion, the fragments of someone else’s shattered love piercing through him as easy as through threadbare fabric.

No. This time is different. And Jaskier doesn’t understand how or why.

‘If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.’

Jaskier’s boots slip on the gritty path more than once. His feeble fingers pack his bedroll after several futile attempts. He nods at the others, without really seeing them. He has no words for them. And why bother?

‘See you around, Geralt.’

No, he won’t. He may be a nuisance, a leech, a nagger—but he isn’t stupid. He can ignore half-hearted attempts of shoving him away, but this wasn’t one of their playful banters. This was Geralt telling his truth. It would be disrespectful not to take his words at face value.

Jaskier can accept a man’s word, can stay out of someone’s hair if they don’t want him around. It’s what he knows just too well, after all. And singing a song about a man who wishes their paths had never crossed? No. That wouldn't be respectful at all.

So, Jaskier doesn’t ask for the rest of the story, doesn’t bother more innocent people than he already did today, and swings his lute over his shoulder.

He walks for hours. He has no idea where his feet might carry him. Straight to a monster, if he’s lucky. One that’ll swallow him whole, end his miserable existence.

Because not only his heart is broken. Jaskier feels like every cell in his body is a razor-sharp fragment of the man he used to be—the bard, a connoisseur of women, wine, and minnesong, a begrudgingly beloved friend.

Was he ever any of it? He can’t feel it anymore. He’s numb, and still, he can feel every single cut even more intense than the moment it was administered.

Oh, Geralt’s words, as few and rare as they were, were all the more weighted than those of others. Quips made Jaskier soar, insults cut through his very being, no matter how much he joked about them in return.

But he understands now. Quips weren’t quips. They were born from pity. And insults were meant from the bottom of Geralt’s heart.

The bard had joked about using the word ‘friend’ back before the djinn incident, when he was ‘heartbroken’ over Countess de Stael. Oh, he’d been such a fool. He hadn’t known pain like this, then. But this time, he might die a brokenhearted man for real.

On the surface, Jaskier is a man of grand gestures, big words, and thick skin. But he isn’t. Not really. He’s a tender soul in a semi-strong body, not a fighter unless it’s for joy or love, and mostly with words, not physical force. But what do joy and love even mean?

Fair ladies could spark his talent, endless words of praise and longing travelling on parchment and over his tongue inspired by their cherry lips, heaving chests, and succulent folds. But no one, not a single one of them, has fed his art as the witcher had done.

Stories of heroic deeds, the slaying of monsters—they flowed easily and made him some coin in taverns. The others didn’t flow as smoothly and only found their way into his repertoire wrapped into a masquerade of women’s names, non-white hair and not amber eyes. They became caricatures of his love, a diversionary manoeuvre, disguising his true emotions, until nothing was left but a chimaera, something people could still latch onto with their own desires and dreams, but so far detached from the object that even borrowed tunes felt closer to Jaskier's heart than these words from his own quill.

Maybe if he had dared sing Geralt the real, unedited version…

No! The witcher never wanted him around in the first place. And Geralt’s heart never belonged to him, not once, not even a little. Jaskier was just the annoying yowler coming back to him like a pesky, pulicose stray dog, a midge sucking his blood. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Jaskier walks and walks, ignores the setting sun, the cold of the wind creeping through his clothes, and the hunger that should have gnawed at him half a day ago. He doesn’t feel it. It’s just one more broken piece that makes up the mosaic of this all-encompassing pain.

His head is as empty as his stomach, no thought staying long enough to be unravelled. It’s just bits and pieces of dialogue and facial expressions that he prided himself on being able to read, maybe the only human to ever manage that.

But it was all a self-inflicted lie. He never could. He didn’t make a difference in Geralt’s life. Only the sorceress did, and she not only took big parts of Geralt’s heart but also the tiny space that Jaskier thought to have carved out for himself in there.

It had been Jaskier’s home, the one point to return to for his wandering heart. But it likely never existed in the first place. The witcher’s grunts had never been fond, had never meant anything but ‘go away’.

He didn’t see it coming, hadn’t known that his loyalty, the strength he had drawn from their friendship was a flight of fancy.

He chuckles without mirth, the wind answering him, howling a laughter of its own. Jaskier closes his eyes, his feet stopping on a sharp edge, the bottom below already hidden in the twilight. Just one step. It would be easy enough, even for someone as unlovable as himself. It would be an act of kindness, really.

“Don’t you dare!” a voice comes from behind. It’s not the one he longs to hear.

“Why not?” he asks, not even turning.

“Because he’ll need you one day.”

Jaskier scoffs.

“He won’t. He never did.”

“You fool,” the voice says. Maybe it’s real or just born from his vivid imagination.

“I’m not even his jester. For what might he need me one day? As bait?”

There is no answer, just the wind rustling through the leaves, and Jaskier takes a step back. From the edge, from his life, from the songs that used to flow through his veins. No melody will leave his lips, no chord will sound from his lute ever again.

Jaskier is empty, and numb, laced with a pain that might hold his frays together, but will never leave his body—not in whines, not in song, not even in words.

He will carry this pain for the rest of his life. Not on his sleeve, but in his hunched shoulders and the heaviness of his steps. Jaskier, the bard, is gone. What could possibly make this songbird sing again? His love not only rejected him. He destroyed him, took what little he had accepted from him and trampled on it as if it were less than dust.

Well, it was for Geralt. His friendship was nothing of worth to him. Nothing to cherish. Nothing to honour.

Jaskier slumps to his knees and curls into a ball right where he fell. Maybe the night’s cold will have mercy on him. At least, it would be a poetic funeral, the bard all covered in tiny stars, frozen, a warning for everyone willing to listen to never fall in love with a witcher.

#the witcher #jaskier #after rare species #one sided love #or is it? #who knows with these idiots #sad #hurt no comfort #breakup #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #gerlion #geskier

[rrasado]

No Spider Lilies : I

|| Act 2 of The Snapping ||

A/N: Ara? What’s this? I never thought I’d find myself wanting to actually re-end this accidental series dksjsn but...I wasn’t satisfied and frankly I’m craving an even more sorrowful route. Who knows? After all...this all deviates from the main story line in game. As usual I shall provide any necessary trigger warnings to ensure a safe reading for you all 💙🌒💙. Pleas tell if you want to be part of a tag list for the next parts. I’ll be using my past tag list as basis but if you don’t wanna be tagged next time don’t hesitate to tell me ^ ^.

Tagging: @starshiningsirius @dittoqueeno @thatweirdomidas @bnhastakenover

__________________________________________

And when death do them part…

...would it really fulfill that cruelty?

Storm clouds formed high above, raindrop cascading down on everything on the face of the earth indiscriminately. The residents of that lamenting house deep in the Devildom never really cared for such details lest it concerned them and their doings directly. At least...that was when they didn’t know how to care, so what happened?

__________________________________________

The records...the way the aged parchment felt in the exchange student’s hand just signified the reality of the parchment’s contents. No excuse can dismiss such news, especially one of this degree… They could barely speak in the moment, a few deafeningly silent minutes passed before they peered up at the Devildom prince’s own butler.

“I...thank you Barbatos…”

Their gratitude was much more meaningful than at face value, the scale of the revelation they had just received isn’t something to be taken lightly and since it especially concerns them, well…

“I trust that you’re taking all of it in?... I can only imagine how you feel right after...certain prior events.”

They both knew what the time bonded demon was referring to, after all it was him who escorted them to their new place of residence for the rest of their stay here at the Devildom. Hah..that was already two months ago. Now that they thought of it...Barbatos have always been there for them huh? The reveal...the dorm transfer requesting...and now this. Whether it was due to his time related prowess or sheer coincidence which- they honestly dismissed after everything that has come to play- the human was grateful.

“Yeah...I think...I’m actually thankful for this”

Barbatos blinked for a good few good seconds before arching a brow at their proclamation. Thankful? Does the human not know what the contents make of them? His confusion was brought to a close when MC casually waved the parchment, it’s sounds accompanied by the night wind that whizzed past the two in front of Purgatory Hall.

“I feared the worst, humans tend to...be easily toppled by the unexpected per se...Then again you are the great exception”

“Eheh I’m honored you hold me in high regard. Because it’ll make my next proposal a bit easier”

And yet again, the butler’s confusion returned, proposal? Well after everything that has spiraled leading up to where they stand it honestly wasn’t that far fetched to him, so with an affirmative nod he gestured for them to continue.

“Hearing of it won’t hurt, what is it you wish then?”

He didn’t miss the way MC’s lips tugged upward in subtle relief. The human’s gaze quickly flickered back to the contents of the parchment and without looking up they spoke.

“Can I count on you if I need to make a wretched departure?”

De...parture? He had a hunch but he needs more context…

“In what sense does this departure fall on for you to need my assistance?”

“Hm...a departure that looks grimmer to those you choose to be grim to.”

The two turned their heads to thewhite haired sorcerer. An ever knowing smirk on his expression as he stood there arms crossed. How long has he been eavesdropping? Not that MC minded...after all they’ve grown to actually trust the shady sorcerer along with the other two angelic residents of Purgatory Hall.

“Truth be told, I've been conducting research of my own… and to a pleasant surprise it seems my lead was not entirely off!”

Childish tone aside, his gaze showed no sign of jest nor kid. In one flick of his finger the old parchment apparated within Solomon’s grasp. And if possible the smug aura on his features grew twofold along with an amused chuckled escaping his parted lips. My oh my did he always manage to come so close yet far..

“Would you believe me if I said I was prepared to act on my pact in the making of this negotiation?”

“Fufufu I do believe that we’re still in the phase of hearing this proposal... I have yet to bestow a verdict so you shouldn’t speak so mightily Solomon.”

“And if I may continue..”

..

…

…..

“...I see…”

The sheer collateral damage at stake is something of its own degree when not tended to with precise caution. He's only delivered the news tonight and yet it was as if they’ve been concucting such a proposition for a considerable amount of time. Then again...the sorcerer did mention doing his own antics regarding the subject.

“With all that said...Barbatos, will you lend us a hand or a place at blade point?”

His shoulders rose and fell with the seconds that passed before he gave a slow curt nod at the two humans.

“Hm… if it means something, the young Lord did vow behind closed doors that he shall keep all the exchange students safe no matter what it may cost...and seeing as it will technically align with my duties..”

A chorus of amused laughter spilled from the magicless human, lips curled into a grin whilst the sorcerer could only let out a chuckle or two.

“Barbatos, I thank you. I know you won’t state it as is but, your help is very much appreciated”

“It really is, and it puts me at ease knowing I have you on our side in this whole issue…”

“If I may...I’d like to evaluate this more into much prefaced details. Would it be alright if we were to properly prepare this? After all...this especially concerns you, MC”

Said human gave an affirmative nod as their hands clasped behind their back, fiddling with their own exposed fingers as the late night breeze passed the three of them yet again.

“It’s best we all retire...who knows what’ll happen if we idle out here any longer, an interesting sight to see this particular roster of residents out of premises at this hour noh?”

“Point taken...well we’ll see you next time Barb”

“Yes...I bid you two a good evening and a hopefully peaceful night.”

A wish so innocent yet truthfully hard to attain...especially with the cruel revelation that brought the three of them together in the first place. They should learn to tread carefully from here on out. At least...that’s what Solomon thought. That same night breeze had passed the gardens, among which were multiple blossoms yet to bloom, all but one crimson lily...

__________________________________________

And from a starry night it all flickers to that unforgiving herd of rain clouds, their own right of sorrow spiraling along with those that received their cold moist. If followed...those raindrops fall onto someone crouched form, in front of a chipped tombstone amidst any ordinary cemetery that lays barren with the weather.

A lone umbrella covered the crouched form, rendering any other incoming rain from soaking the tuft of white hair any further. Mammon didn’t need to look up and see who it was offering cover. Levi didn’t care whether he himself got wet and frankly not even the rain water on his skin put him at any ease whatsoever. No one could be comforted at this point… And whatever it was to put the usually bickering brothers in such hushed silence…

“We gotta get going y’know…”

“...five more mins…”

“Lucifer is getting restless the more you push your luck-“

“Then let him dammit”

Levi didn’t even bother questioning his brother's lack of fear for the first born. Normally he would’ve made fun of it but… when his orange hued gaze fell on to what was even engraved on the chipped tombstone. It didn’t sit right with him, heck it didn’t sit right with any of them. And who could blame them...the guilt crawling on their backs never left when they saw them leave the House of Lamentation. At some point they thought of...eventually getting closure, some of them even had plans.

But now they won’t be able to attain such desirable closure, not when...they aren’t there to listen to their pathetic pleas.

A good few distance away from them was the Avatar of Wrath, observing all of his brothers from the side as he always had. His eyes flickered to each of their situations, emerald orbs not letting a single twitch of an eye nor brow going unnoticed. If allowed to be honest, he found them all utterly pathetic… and he’s already filtered out most dark thoughts that have plagued his mind. Besides, they deserved this, this torment didn’t compare to what those on the opposite end of their mistakes felt. He had every right to speak of so. Thankful for the cover the rain provided he took a sharp step to the side, turning his whole body to the other direction that had garnered a scoff of attention from the the laxer twin.

“..where are you going?”

Hearing Belphie’s question had Satan stop monetarily in his tracks, and without looking back at him he muttered a quick ‘somewhere’ before resuming his strides towards the direction of the cemetery gates.

Belphegor watched the blonde's figure go farther from where he stood, turning his attention back to his twin with a numb look on his features.

“It’s odd…”

A brow was raised at the sudden statement, but at the same time he completely understood what the glutton meant.

Their eyes setting sight on the tombstone mammon and Levi were idling in front of… ‘ A beloved friend and family’ written on the very same tombstone. MC’s full name carved elegantly on its face that used to seem so unreal when they first arrived but, the longer the twins looked the more it actually sank into them.

The human is dead.

Lilith’s descendant is dead.

Beel couldn’t even manage to stomach his food, he knew there was something off when he felt a sudden snuff of energy in the atmosphere that day. Not only him but all of them did...and to think it was actually this.

The guilt kept stacking.

But hidden in their walls of guilt the fourth brother allowed himself to be led towards the cemetery gates, left to his own grim thoughts he couldn’t help but to wonder if..all this will be for the better or for the worse… and in a fraction of a second he was snapped out of his thoughts. The flicker of a shadow barely registering in his peripheral vision..

.hah...

...He wished them all goodluck

__________________________________________

Me, a few months ago:

I’m a clown I know-

As always y’all know the drill, just say if any of you wanna be tagged in the next part ^ ^.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me fic #obey me barbatos #obey me angst #rras writes #TS! Act 2 #writings from the eclipse #obey me solomon #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me satan

[kanomitri]

Dimitri vs Fleche Parallel

*SPOILERS FOR AZURE MOON CHAPTERS 14 AND 18 AS WELL AS (minor) SPOILERS FOR POST-GRONDER OF OTHER ROUTES*

Tw/Cw - Death, mentions of decapitation, trauma, and stabbing

Okay, but Dimitri and Fleche.

I'm in the middle of my Azure Moon replay, soaking in EVERYTHING,

and I just hit the end of Chapter 14.

Uh, as a reminder, this is the chapter after you've just reunited with your students and the monastery is being attacked. What's most important here is the dialogue Fleche shares with Randolph (the enemy general of this chapter whom you must defeat and Fleche's older brother). The transcript is as follows:

Randolph: It would seem the report that the Knights of Seiros have returned was accurate. This is going to take some effort.

Fleche: Brother... I heard a rumor that there is a vicious murderer among our enemies.

Randolph: Who knows if there's any truth to it. Though I admit we have lost some soldiers recently.

Randolph: Whether he's among them or not, taking on the Knights of Seiros is extremely dangerous.

Randolph: You're not ready for the front lines, Fleche. Stay in the back and support us from there. Understood?

Fleche: No! I want to stay with you! I have to---

Randolph: I need you to understand, Fleche. I will come back, I promise.

Fleche: Fine. I trust you, Brother. Please... be safe.

Randolph: All units, prepare to attack!

(Source: The game itself. I copied it from the Log)

Now, aside from the fact that Randolph using Fleche's name while Fleche only says "Brother" is heavily reminiscent of Seteth and Flayn (wow, even the names are similar - Fleche and Flayn), I was listening to this exchange intently.

You see, last time I listened, I was clowning on them because - duh, they're gonna die lol. Dimitri is on my side 🤪🤪🤪 (I later learned that my Dimitri was NOT that powerful, as this was my first playthrough and I had little experience back then. My current Dimitri would absolutely demolish though).

This time, however, I recalled Fleche from last time - she was the one to nearly assassinate Dimitri, and accidentally kill Rodrigue.

Before, I saw this conversation as relevant simply because, "Oh hey, that guy's gonna die! Yup, there he is. Wait, Dimitri, calm down-"

I completely forgot Fleche, so when she came and claimed we killed her brother, my mind blanked. I thought similarly to the rest of the army - her brother must've been some soldier we killed. Oops. ╮(╯_╰)╭

Then, as the conversation closed, a small thought dawned on me:

That reminds me of Dimitri.

To be blunt, a lot of things do (I think about Dimitri just about 24/7 and thusly, I think about Dimitri parallels non-stop) but this was a first for me - and the thought stuck.

Yes, yes... Fleche was like Dimitri - seeking revenge for fallen family, a vengeance that would take her life.

She reflected what Dimitri could've been - and is - in another route. Another way the story could've been told.

Allow me to explain:

Firstly, Fleche was worried for her brother, and she survived the battle where he died.

This was, oddly enough, the first thought to come to mind to explain this, but hear me out.

In an earlier conversation (pre-timeskip), just after the Jeralt is killed, Byleth speaks with Dimitri, where the latter reveals more about his experience back in Duscur, as a way to empathize with the Professor - including some words about his stepmother, whom he loved as his own flesh.

Dimitri: ... My stepmother, the kindest person I had ever known, left me behind and disappeared into the infernal flames. ...

(Source: The Cause of Sorrow/Script - Fire Emblem Wiki)

Dimitri and Gilbert's C-Support reveal that Dimitri would not have lived were it not for an external influence.

Dimitri: (To Gilbert) ... You saved my life at Duscur. I have only gratitude for you, no blame to speak of. ...

(Source: Dimitri/Supports - Fire Emblem Wiki)

No doubt, Dimitri was extremely worried for everyone of the Kingdom during that battle - friends and family alike - but I focus specifically on his stepmother mostly because it's later revealed that she has something to do with the Tragedy, and I sometimes like to have a tragic sense of humor :]

Similar to Dimitri's concern for his stepmother, Fleche worries deeply for her brother, Randolph. Both of them are kept from the front lines and live the battle, but still bear witness to the murder of their family - for Dimitri, that included his stepmother, and for Fleche, that's her brother. Both survived where their beloved family fell, and they had a feeling it would happen.

Second, Fleche seeks revenge.

This is not a hard one to prove. In Chapter 18, as Fleche prepares to kill Dimitri, she shouts:

"[The pain of being stabbed is] nothing compared to what my brother felt! You will never be forgiven, you know. I will never forgive you!"

(Source: Blood of the Eagle and Lion (Azure Moon)/Script - Fire Emblem Wiki)

If that's not vengeance, I don't know what is.

Third, her vengeance is her death, but she does collateral damage in the process.

This one is also fairly obvious - after stabbing Rodrigue she's killed - but there's also a bit more to it.

Yes, Rodrigue's death is an important step in Dimitri arc as it caused him to view both life and death differently, but you can also use it as parallel fodder (as I have).

You see, during other routes (Verdant Wind and Silver Snow specifically), Dimitri comes incredibly close to killing Edelgard (they are literally on the same battlefield, and she's even severely wounded in the process!) but he fails to finish the deed. He severely damages the Imperial army (alongside the Kingdom and Alliance forces, as cited in the event, "A Visitor"), but Edelgard lives. He dies.

Similarly, Fleche comes incredibly close to killing Dimitri. She even does collateral damage (aka she killed Rodrigue) - but she ultimately fails. Dimitri lives. She dies.

In essence, Fleche is a Dimitri that would've been - a Dimitri that is - had he not been corrected. Ironically enough, she helped him - saved his life even.

And people give all the credit to Byleth. ┐(´ー｀)┌

Anyways, that's just a thought I had that I may or may not have put too much thought into haha. I'm not sure if anyone else has noticed it but that's my two cents at the very least.

TL;DR - fleche is lowkey a manifest of dimitri

#dimitri #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fire emblem dimitri #parallels #fleche #fire emblem fleche #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe3h dimitri #fe3h fleche #azure moon #sothis this took forever to get all the links for #it took me - what? two or three hours to type this and find all the sources? #three houses is waiting for me haha #also i know people also give credit to rodrigue but anyone first playing/watching azure moon will likely credit byleth #because they're the one who gave the final words to bring dimitri back #so that's why i chose byleth in that final statement #thanks for reading my impromptu fe3h thesis i guess lol #actually doing the battle now and just remembered we're supposed to set the battlefield on fire oops #kurikuri fe3h essays

[breath-of-void]

Black Widow and Pamela Halpert

So I recently came upon a series of tiktoks denouncing Pam Beesly from The Office. As a concept, I absolutely love the idea of deep diving and challenging our previously held beliefs about beloved fictional characters (there are countless cries to reevaluate Jim, also from The Office, as an unmotivated time waster rather than the cool guy we used to think he was). But this creator and plenty in the comments touched on things that, while they may make her a flawed person at worst, do not make her a bad character. 

I am by no means saying that she is wrong for her assessment and at the end of each video she does encourage discourse which is good. This just sparked a primal need in me to give my amateurish take on how we treat female characters in the media. 

Pam, like every other character on The Office, is flawed. She does bad things, she has a shitty attitude, and, one could argue, she cheats on her fiancée. That being said, that is no reason to denounce her as a character and I actually think it’s important to have characters like that. 

One of the biggest complaints most people have with her is that she constantly flirted with Jim while being engaged to Roy. As younglings, we all thought it was cute and that justice was served when they finally got together, but growing up, we realize that it was kind of a shitty thing to do. But I would like to counterpoint and ask... is it?

I mean, yes, actively making googly eyes at another potential suitor especially when it’s clear that he has the hots for you when you are committed to someone else is bad, but it ignores greater context: Roy’s treatment of Pam and Jim’s own autonomy. 

Roy was undoubtedly neglectful of Pam and was initially supportive of her friendship with Jim SO THAT SHE WOULDN’T BOTHER HIM FOR ATTENTION. Is it truly a crime that she sought solace from the one person in the office that she could get along with? If we changed the scenario to make Jim female (we’ll call her Jill) would their friendship then be considered flirty? If Pam and Jill were doing everything she and Jim were (nix the one or two kisses they had) then they would just be the two mean girls in the office playing pranks on the uptight assistant to the regional manager. Of course, it is fact that they were indeed flirting with each other (or more accurately and it is my personal belief that Jim was flirting while Pam was simply being friendly UNTIL it grew into something more.

A lot of people also tend to think of Pam as manipulating Jim’s feelings for her to gain, basically, a second boyfriend while her shitty fiancée was an ass to her. This might very well be true, but heck if Jim didn’t have a part to play in it. This idea of “manipulating his emotions” is ludicrous because Jim is a grown man who should know better and, at some points (such as when he started dating Katie and Karen) we see that he does. At best he is culpable in feeding the fantasy that he and Pam could be together despite her engagement and, at worst, he is too naïve to live. Pam didn’t manipulate him. She didn’t hide her relationship status or anything and, in fact, told him more than he needed to know about it. Several times, she would leave with Roy or act relationship-y with him in front of Jim. He was her friend, and if there was ever a chance of them being more then Jim was just as responsible for that.

So where does Black Widow fit into this? 

Well, she didn’t kill Dreykov’s daughter and I’m still salty about it. 

The idea that a flawed female character cannot be rooted for seems ingrained in our enjoyment of TV. See, the worst thing we know that Natasha has done (in the MCU not the comics) is, you know, murder a little girl. At this point she was not brainwashed, she did it because a job needed to get done and what’s a little collateral damage. What makes it worse is that her target survived so she basically just murdered a literal child for no reason. Bummer. She’s grown since then, and the knowledge that she did something like that will forever haunt her. No matter how many good deeds you do, or how many worlds you save, how do you cope with the fact that you set off a bomb point blank on a child?

But they backed out of it. In the end, turns out, she’s okay. Slightly charred, but otherwise vibing. The idea that Dreykov turning her into a weapon was Natasha’s fault is laughable because I would like to know what shred of evidence led us to believe he wasn’t going to do that anyway. Girl was destined to become a Widow whether she was his daughter or some orphan. That fact that she had to be mentally subjugated cemented that for me. I’ve complained about this before, but the identity of Taskmaster didn’t matter when they had no goals of their own. If it were that the girl survived but dedicated her life to killing Natasha for what she did and keeping the Widow program going, then that would be a suitable trade-off, but she didn’t care. As it stands, the worst thing Natasha has done... doesn’t exist anymore. The kid didn’t die and now that the brainwashing has been erased, she’s going to be taken care of. 

Did I just want to complain some more about Black Widow in this rant about Pam? Possibly.

That being said, a realistic depiction of a flawed woman should not be decried. Especially when, and let’s be honest, Pam really isn’t that bad. When all is said and done, Pam is no more mean nor petty than the rest of us. In the aforementioned tiktok, her cattiness to Kathy was cited and... so what? I’m sure there are plenty of us who thought of being or even were catty to whoever our best friends were dating because we wanted them to ourselves (whether it be platonic or romantic). 

Audiences tend not to like when women who are TOO flawed but still called good. Not that it’s always done right and discourse around this type of thing is important, but when there calls to cancel Pam, an ordinary woman whose list of crimes include being snarky to her best friend’s girl, kissing her best friend while super drunk and bullying the office joke, it’s time to evaluate why. It’s not so much that I think Pam is good, but I don’t think there’s enough wrong with her to call her bad.  

#pam beesly #the office #pamela halpert #pam halpert #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #women #media #discourse #tiktok #Black Widow

[vestigesofperversion]

Me, arguing with myself over whether it was right for M9 to split the party.
I still feel like the HFB is the danger you know vs. the one they didn’t, and is really designed as more of a threat to jealous mages than to sneaky halfling children. It’s hard for me to believe any parent in their right mind would teleport their 4-year old to an unknown plane of existence, where there is a non-zero chance they could be killed instantly upon arrival, no matter what they were trying to run from. Trent may be a powerful threat, but I think they were incorrect in assuming that he would have brought harm to the Brenatto’s or Marion just to get to Bren. Trent is an abuser and manipulator, not an outright murderer, and he doesn’t want to burn bridges with Bren by pulling dirty shit like that. He literally asked Bren during a dinner party to kill him and take his place, and he consistently tries to foster an (albeit creepy) dialogue, even after what happened in the Sanatorium. The only reason the Volstruckers came to The Lavish Chateau is because the M9 keep telling baddies who their family members are and leading them directly to them when pursued. They’ve been super careless when it comes to collateral damage. Veth said it herself, she has deliberately put her family in danger in order to protect her found-family, and while that’s a sweet indication of how close they are, it’s not sustainable. Something Very Bad™ will inevitably come out of prioritizing the well-being of one’s highly-capable party members over some 10 HP max NPCs, and now it has.
This is all par for the course narratively for the M9, but usually they get served a healthy dose of consequences for their questionable decisions. This was supposed to be consequences for their actions in Rexxentrum catching up to them. Vox Machina also had plenty of fuckups around this high stakes point of Campaign 1, which had them blaming themselves constantly, but that echoes the overwhelming responsibility and loss a hero faces along their journey. That’s good storytelling. I don’t seriously criticize Matt’s choices as a DM, so like, don’t @ me about how you like your fandoms wholesome, uncomplicated and unconditionally loving, but I am admittedly scratching my head at how your young child can burn to death in front of you because of your own risky choices, and your spouse is just like, instantly supportive and forgiving, and not at all traumatized or upset? Or your agoraphobe mom, who hasn’t left her safe space in 20 years, gets rushed out in a panic and then teleported to a literal hellscape, where she then has to watch her beloved daughter get her feet nearly seared off in lava while screaming in agonizing pain, and then without a tinge of frustration over the whole thing, just turns into the wisened sage doling out soothing advice, cool as a cucumber? Yeza made a fair point about his involvement with the Assembly, but his ever-doting attitude, and Marion’s Caduceus-like chill after such a traumatic experience, felt very flat to me. I hope that even with the grace being extended to them by their families, this experience taught the M9 a lesson about not shitting where they eat, or else it will be a repeat of Vax and Vex’s little sister in the final boss fight all over again.

#again #do not @ me #i read the twitch chat #and I know how ya'll love to cape #for matt and the cast #critters out here #being so uncomfortable #with conflict or disapproval #its okay not to agree with every choice #as long as you dont take it too seriously #thinking about what i would do different #is part of the fun for me #critical role #long form #cr2 spoilers #critical role 2 spoilers #cr2 #c2e129 #the mighty nein #mighty nein #m9 #cr1 spoilers #critical role spoilers #Vox Machina #matthew mercer #veth brenatto

[psychemeanscure]

PART 14

As soon as Jang Taeyoung went out of the door it was Veeros Alcaziar’s turn then. The moment he saw his father’s familiar blazing face he knew he would get a worse punishment other than being punched by the man who had just left.

He tried, but can’t longer escape when he was already frozen to his spot as her father starts unbuckling its own metal watch, putting it diligently on the desk table and with a swift move… Knocking his own son by the head as Zilo’s temple starts gushing a drip of blood caused by the gold sovereign ring his father wore through its hand. That even blocking it, was useless. He maybe aged throughout the years but he will still admit that his father is as strong as a cow for a 50-year-old.

And with a few more punches, he stumbled on the cold floor once again. Today he wasn’t name as his son, he was a creation he needed to flourish. Thus he wasn’t his father in front of him, but a wild hag he had feared in a lifetime.

A weak grunt run out into his mouth as he was grabbed by his collar, meeting the eyes of obsession. “What did I just tell you, huh? Zilo? I think you have forgotten for a while.”

If it was the first time, he could surely be the scaredy cat back then. But it’s not. What people think behind the mask of a spoiled happy go lucky son is actually a wimpy kid being bullied by his own father. That behind the tolerated back-ups he did from his failed activities, failed hideouts and addictions that had led him busted. It is always ends up being him as the leverage he needed to pay. A collateral of damage done by his own hands.      

Numb. He’s already numb that he got used to it. He goes against. “Stop being delusional father. She’s not even my sister to begin with. Echar un polvo! She doesn’t get an inch of our bloodline!”

And it just takes a second before he felt the heel of his father’s shoe stomps his frail knee earning a hurtful voice of his own. “What did you just say? Are you crazy?! She’s your sister! Your eldest sister whom your mother just bore! Remember that.”

Crap that mother. He knew who he means about that because his father taught him so. He’s full of it already! “She is Sung Eunyoung’s only! You killed my courtesan mother, remember? You are the crazy one father. She had never been yours!” and yes, they knew. They knew all along that she wasn’t simply the great Amilia Martin for she has been a target long before her plan.

Truly as he can still remember how the 4-year-old him witnessed the death of her own mother the moment his father found out that he impregnated her a son. Reason for his berserk finally for he cannot attain any insults of his biological mom. He may only have a vague memory of her yet one things’ for sure, he was loved. On so the following blow of his stomach he expected came in. “Say that again or this isn’t the only thing you can get.” The cold words from his father yet left him unwavering. There’s no turning back indeed. He will go against his father this time. The next thing he knew?    

He was already pressed to the wall as a striking hand envelopes half of his face pinned in sideway as if he was just a mere meat fresh to be grilled easily. Possessively insisting his own conclusion. “Ah. Right, so is this why you tried to harm your sister, eh? You dare hurt her so you can get all my attention? Screw you, son! I’m sorry but your sister is my top priority.” With the last hit of his head by the wall he was laying helplessly then.

His father was too far to be called a psychopath that’s the truth. It was the hidden obsession who’s eating him. The head over heels delusion of his father from Sung Eunyoung’s mother, believing he owns everything about her and only her.

Wiping his son’s blood by his hanky as darting eyes went by the window as if looking someone at the skies. “You are my wife sweetheart, will always be. And I promise you, we’ll going to get our daughter very soon.”  

~

A sinister grimace from Veeros Alcaziar was shown remembering the promise he swears to whom he believes as his beloved wife, waiting for his dearest daughter to come back from an important phone call. And as soon as she came back in the VIP room, it was easy for him to shift in an unsuspicious state by just right there comfortably digging the signature cuisine of the Spanish restaurant they were meeting.

“Sorry ‘bout that Señor. Things just getting hectic with me these days. Where were we again?”      

“Oh, no. You don’t have to. It’s business, we can never say no. So yes as I was saying, I heard what happened between you two. Too bad. Are you alright, perhaps?”

That for another time she had to keep her cringe inside once again. It was just the second time to been asked by the same question, yet it hurts her eardrums already. What else she could do anyway but to play along, shrugging her shoulders as she speaks. “Well, it just happened. Things went wrong in a go. I’m coping up though Señor. Thank you for your concern.”      

Her wary response somehow, opposite to what she thinks that says, ‘Mierda! As if I care.’

“Glad you are. But it hasn’t been long. I bet he’s been calling for you still. Isn’t he?” A casual question from the old Alcaziar and just right for another call coming from their topic.        

“Actually, Señor. He is. And speaking of, he’s currently calling me again.”

Glancing the caller ID then as she intended to show it to the latter who only answered her an awe expression. “Oh? So what you really do every time he does?” and without second thoughts, she just straightly tap the end button for confirmation before nonchalantly boast to the old Alcaziar. “Simple as that Señor.”  thus the old man only laughs for answer with hidden unpleasant thoughts. ‘Wow. Just like you sweetheart. Our daughter is just like you.’  

“Oh well! What shall I say? Am I a proud father again, daughter?”

And she’s lying if it didn’t make her stiffed for a moment because it does. Perhaps from the last time he said it from the first meeting it ain’t sound something, yet hearing it now seems different. A feeling that she rather not wished for.

Tuning her role play on smiling then, she answered. “Be the proud patriarch then…” as she purposely halts her statement, forking her food which dipped on a red sauce like she decides to pass her refusal by it instead. Before proceeding to push the word that just grumbles her to puke.

“Father.”

The word she never imagined she had to call with the man she desires to succumb. Hell how she’s too eager to throw her hidden curses! Opposite to how the Spanish old man’s satisfying thoughts though. ‘That’s it my daughter. That’s it. Your mother will be proud.’ He answered a delighting grin truly.

He’s usually not a patient person on getting what he needed, but he wouldn’t mind if it’s his one and only daughter to wholeheartedly give an exception for if that’s what makes her enjoy once more. ‘Just a bit more. A little bit more.’~

As that’s how their talks ended indeed. Slumping vigorously to her bar table chair of her apartment the moment she finally came home. Tiredly massaging her nape, twirling the content of her wineglass. Needing to consume the alcohol inside her. Her day isn’t as busy as it usually does but for some reason she felt like jam-packed.

Relaxing her spare time totally. Not when a call came after actually. The man she intently ignores for some time now. Including today. She was just gaping with the resonating sound of her phone on the bar table. Somehow finding a sentence she would want to utter even without answering. And she can only search it if she decided to stand up looking from nowhere around the night lights of the city of her glass window.

“Jang.”

Her mere mention of his name after days. It’s been a while, it is. But she’s already cursing herself for sighing like a vulnerable mortified one. Though she’s guilty she admits. “I could have not gone this far if you just stick with our original plan but why? What really wavered you to hide something from me. What was it Jang? What’s the big fuss?”

Shaking her head afterwards remembering her disappointment, she speaks again. “But you didn’t. you’re being stubborn still.” As she currently trailing her index finger of her wineglass’ rim then. “See? Look at you now, bet you’re getting piled up with useless works already. And pretty sure you’re itching to fight me as well. Aren’t you? Tss. Damn you for making me the bad person here though. I hate you.”

Letting out all her unsaid complaints and sentiments, she’s basically picturing her phone as the imaginary Jang Taeyoung certainly as she can’t even help being disappointed when the loud sound of its ringing finally went over. Glancing it with sarcasm. “Jeez, even with phone calls you dare to neglect me. No doubt you can’t wait for me either. Guess it’s really over for us huh?”

“Fine. Whatever, Loco. Good luck anyway. Goodbye for real. Really this time.”

With a seeming smile and final sip of her wine, she confirms her true goodbye indeed.

#kim soo hyun #kimsoohyun #seo ye ji #seo yea ji #seoyeaji #seoyeji #psycho but it's okay #psycho but its okay #it's okay not to be okay #itsokaynottobeokay #its okay not to be okay #ko mun yeong #korean actor #realkoreanmovie #korean actress #real #nightlife ventures #quantum physics #by quantum physics #sung eun young #sungeunyoung #jang tae young #jangtaeyeong #hyunji #hyunjicouple #slowburn #slow burn #alternative universe #au

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

My laptop is currently updating, so while I have that working in the background, I wanted to share a series of six short, mostly-opera-inspired autobiographical narratives/prose poems I wrote last April and May:

I would kill to have some wine right now.

There is a bottle of red wine sitting on the kitchen counter. My father bought it when he went to the store the other day─ don’t ask me what day it was, I don’t remember, the days already blend together as is─ and I have considered pouring even just a little bit into a glass and downing it.

And then proceeding to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it.

I’ve been contemplating doing that a lot lately.

True, I would kill to have some wine, but if I did go ahead and pour even just a little bit into a glass, and down it, and possibly then proceed to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it, I would most likely be killed before I had the chance to kill.

Kill or be killed. We are all trying our very best to do neither these days, but it happens anyway.

I am sixteen years old. As I start writing this, I am nine days away from turning seventeen. For me, alcohol consumption is thus not only not approved by the Parents, but also illegal. But then again, so is voting blue in the 2020 US Presidential election. That is also something neither approved by the Parents nor legal for me. But I digress.

Thirty-one, twenty-nine, thirty-one again, sixteen now, that makes sixty, ninety-one, one hundred and seven days since I watched one of my classmates get drunk at a New Year’s Eve party. She downed a whole bottle of peach wine (I didn’t even know that was a thing) and looked at me with her red eyes and silver-sequined halter top and curly dark brown hair in a high ponytail. You’re more beautiful than Jesus she told me and you’ll go to the moon on a rocketship. I laughed.

I laugh when something’s so unexpected I can’t do anything else. I laughed when I first heard Notre Dame Cathedral had caught fire because it seemed so ludicrous that I couldn’t do anything else. Notre Dame on fire? You can’t be serious, it can’t be serious.

It was serious.

I’m not sure if she was.

A little part of me wishes she were.

When I was in sixth grade, I told the same girl I thought her hair was luscious. Sixth-grade me didn’t know the word had a sexual connotation; the girl did and was offended.

Maybe a little part of me did know, somehow.

***

As I write this next part, I am working on a paper about state-sponsored censorship. I have picked this topic because it is a fascinating topic, it fits the requirements for the paper─ write about a major global problem─, and because I feel censored myself.

Expressing anything that conflicts with the Parents’ thoughts and opinions is strictly forbidden. If you are different, you are ostracized. I am different, so I am ostracized.

I am too proud, too strong to succumb. But it still hurts.

As I write this, I am listening to Act IV of Rossini’s Guillaume Tell, an opera about liberation, appropriate for both me and my paper. At this moment, Hedwige is calling on God, ‘the hope of the hopeless’, to save her husband and break the yoke of oppression that binds Switzerland.

It’s very nice, and the sentiment is good and true, and it works for her and Mathilde and Jemmy and the Swiss women, but it does not work for me. I lost my faith a long time ago. Ironically, it is French grand opéra, the genre to which Guillaume Tell belongs, that is partially responsible for my loss of faith.

It was impossible for me to watch Verdi’s Don Carlos for the first time in eighth grade and Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots in tenth and not be horrified by the things people do in the name of religion, to kill people senselessly just because they believe slightly differently than them─ even their own daughters (as is the finale of Les Huguenots).

How can a good God allow such things?

Do I realize these works are fictional? Yes. But do I know they are based on history, on real events? Yes.

“These things are meant to happen; they are all in God’s plan.” Well, can God just not find another way to make what’s meant to happen happen? I cannot believe in a God that allows these things to happen. To say that an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good God who can allow such things exists is a lie.

***

Now that Guillaume Tell is over, I am listening to another grand opéra, Les vepres siciliennes, albeit in its Italian version, I vespri siciliani. Another opera about occupation and liberation, but a liberation that comes at a horrible cost: the entire French ruling class is massacred by the Sicilians at the end of the opera.

If I didn’t care, I would stage my own personal ‘massacre’: I would turn my back, walk out the front door with the possessions I most needed to survive on my own, and never come back.

But I do care. They may not care, but I do.

One of my greatest curses is that I care about what I care about too much. My heart is too deep to not care.

There are some battles that are not worth being fought.

If a massacre is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing. Or, at least try to find another way.

Right now, I am at the beginning of Act III, at Monforte’s aria “In braccio alle dovizie”. In the original French, it’s called “Au sein de la puissance”. At the breast of power.

Monforte is the hated French governor of Sicily, the revolutionaries’ primary target. When he sings this, he has just learned that one of the main revolutionaries, Arrigo, is his long-lost illegitimate son.

By rape.

‘The breast of power’ indeed.

Just like with a massacre, if rape is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing either.

Just a thought.

I’m a woman. What do I know, in the eyes of many out there?

One of my friends said that Verdi gave Monforte his just deserts, but also overly beautiful music. “He couldn’t help it, though, not when his Dad Music Instincts were activated.”

I feel guilty listening to the aria, even though it is truly a beautiful piece and the recording I’m listening to─ a 1989 recording from the Teatro alla Scala, with Giorgio Zancanaro as Monforte─ is absolutely gorgeous.

Can we separate the music from the character, the art from the artist? I do not know. Everyone has something utterly heinous to someone else. Once we stop separating the art from the artist, where do we begin again? And yet, I do not want to support people who do horrible things to others.

Perhaps it is all relative.

Perhaps everything is.

Perhaps nothing is absolute at all.

That frightens me.

***

Today is Rome’s 2,773rd birthday. As a six-year Latin student and future classics and history double-major, this is cause for celebration.

If things were normal and I were at school, my Latin teacher would bring birthday cake for all the Latin students, and we’d eat it and sing “Felix dies natalis, Roma”. Happy Birthday, Rome.

But things are not normal, and I’m at home multitasking between this and a presentation script for that paper, and still listening to I vespri siciliani.

Now I’m at the end of Act IV. Everyone is celebrating the impending marriage of Arrigo to Duchess Elena, one of the Sicilian revolutionary leaders. Sicilian and French, united at last. Everything is set to work out.

But there’s still Giovanni da Procida, the other major revolutionary leader, who is hellbent on revenge. He sees this wedding as the perfect opportunity to strike down the French once and for all.

And thus, the massacre.

Everything can be set to work out, but there is always something that comes up. A massacre, a pandemic, a set of internal troubles that bring a proud empire to its ruin.

Now I’m in Act V, at Elena’s bolero ‘Merce, dilette amiche’. She has no idea about Procida’s plans; she’s just excited to marry Arrigo and bring peace to her beloved Sicily at last. I think I’m going to change operas again after this is over; the act is rather uneven (though I still very much like it) and I would prefer not to listen to everything falling apart today.

I debate listening to Berlioz’s Les Troyens, the closest thing to an opera about the founding of Rome and a masterpiece itself. But there is still too much about collateral damage for my tastes today: one kingdom falls and another loses its benevolent queen, all in the name of a supposedly greater destiny. And that’s just based on the first third of the Aeneid. I wrote an essay about that first third once for English class, using that thesis; my English teacher said it was one of the best essays he’d ever read. But I digress.

After a quick refresher on the synopsis, I decide to change styles and go with a story from the heyday of the Roman Empire: Handel’s Agrippina. Lots of plotting, but everyone gets what they want in the end and it ends happily for all. No collateral damage here. I am weary of that.

Sometimes I feel like collateral damage.

It’s tough to remember that you’re the master of your own story, not just a side character or a scapegoat in so many others’.

Everyone in this opera knows they’re the masters. That’s the problem. But it ultimately works out.

I want nothing more than for it to work out for me. It hasn’t yet.

But I have a feeling it will.

***

I got maybe halfway through the first act of Agrippina yesterday. I love Baroque opera, but I guess only in small doses.

No matter.

Today I’m listening to the beginning of Act II of Verdi’s Don Carlo. This is the fourth time in a row I’ve listened to it.

I read John Green’s Turtles All The Way Down recently. The main character frequently finds herself stuck in ‘thought spirals’, where she keeps thinking more and more about the same thing. I have those too, although I tend to picture my mind more as a bullet train: it always moves hundreds of miles an hour, faster than I can control, from one thought to the next. I constantly find myself retracing the figurative map of my mind to figure out what I was thinking about, what I need to remember but simply cannot. And it’s like my mind keeps returning to the same stations a lot; these are my equivalent to the spirals.

This opera, this moment, is one of my frequent stations.

Make that five times in a row now. This will be the last, I promise myself.

In this scene, a group of monks chant, praying for the rest of the dead Emperor Charles V, whom, I note with a smile, was himself a character in one of Verdi’s earliest operas, Ernani. In that opera, he sings an aria where he confronts his destiny as the next Holy Roman Emperor. My legacy will live throughout the ages, he sings.

Including in two different Verdi operas.

But there I go again on another bullet-train route.

The monks are singing now, their stark minor-major shifts making me feel as if I am there, in the cloister of San Yuste or in any of the great cathedrals of Spain, looking up into the vaults of the ceiling, of heaven itself, seemingly. The only lights come from candles in my mental picture, and I gaze up, my head uncovered, my mind only partially spellbound, more by the visual beauty and the history than by any religious feeling.

I am a heathen.

I have only been inside a Catholic church once, when I was fourteen; it was an impromptu side trip during a school-sponsored tour of colleges in St. Louis. One of the chaperones said the Cathedral Basilica had can’t-miss art, and thus managed to get a large section of the attendees to come with her.

She was right. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. And that was all I thought.

Okay, that’s a lie. I did wonder what it would be like to be able to have faith again, to be able to kneel in one of the pews, and pray, and believe, as my ancestors have done before me; after all, if religion were something you inherited in your blood, then I would be half-Catholic.

But I cannot kneel and pray and believe.

In this scene, one of the monks claims that Charles V fell because he was too proud, because he believed that he was greater than God. If a god exists, I do not claim to be greater than them. I am not perfect, not by a long shot.

He did not die because he did not believe in God. He died because everyone dies, even those who are supposedly the greatest of us.

God alone is great, the monk proclaims. I do not, cannot believe that. We are all great to begin with, but some of us are led to believe we are not.

We are the masters. I must remember that.

And I realize that I have let it play a sixth time.

Sometimes I am not the master of my own mind.

***

The sixth time was the last.

Now I am at the end of the act, listening to the showdown between Filippo II, King of Spain, and Rodrigo, Marquis di Posa. Filippo is the guardian of the way things are; Verdi called Rodrigo an anachronism, and indeed, he was the only principal character who never existed.

Rodrigo, he said, was at least two centuries ahead of his time.

I don’t know what exactly Verdi’s feelings were about this, but personally, I do not think this is a bad thing. Progressivism is often progressivism in any age.

At any rate, Rodrigo, who has recently returned from Spanish-held Flanders, has taken his chance─ a rare private meeting with the King, who is confused as to why Rodrigo has never approached him for favors like all the other courtiers─ to confront him about the horrific conditions of Flanders and its people. Give them liberty, he pleads.

No. I have given them the same peace I have given Spain.

A horrible peace!, Rodrigo fires back. The peace of the tomb!

We should not have to suffer until death.

Let history not say of you, “He was a Nero.” A murderer of innocents, a torturer of the defenseless, an occupier, a denier of liberty─ perhaps the greatest torture of all.

I once watched a video in which a director said, “To live in an occupied country is to live only half a life.” I would say that to live in an occupied country, or even any place where you cannot be free, cannot live fully as yourself, is not even that. It is to barely live at all. It is to merely have a beating heart and breath.

To live in spite of this, to simply be as you wish, is the ultimate act of defiance.

#notyouraveragejulie writes #(or rather reads old writing) #writing #poetry #poems #prose poems #autobiographical narratives #life in the time of COVID #opera #opera tag #censorship #freedom #also the author would like to note that this was written *before* she saw Agrippina and loved it so those comments aren't 100% accurate now

[shinygoku]

Top 10 CSatM Episodes (1/2)

Ahhh, Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons...! Probably only Second to Thunderbirds when it comes to the most popular and beloved Supermarination programme, with only Stingray able to compete for that coveted Silver Medal. But for me, it’s my Favourite!

I could go on and on about it, but for now I’ll go over my personal picks for a Top 10, which may give some insight into what about the way the series ticks makes it so enthralling.

Without further ado, let’s jump in! I’m not ordering them by preference, but rather the Episode order as I watched them on my DVDs (tediously the ep listings never seem to be consistent :T) Spoilers for all eps covered! ✂

Winged Assassin

Starting off my Favourites is the 2nd episode of the whole show, featuring a good condensed version of the events of Ep 1 if ya missed it and probably the best explanation on the workings of Retrometabolism that canon media is ever gonna grant us. The plot is fairly straightforward, but what elevates this is the aforementioned Exposition, which feels more organic than it did last episode, the interactions between Scarlet and Blue, and even the shocking twist at the ending, where the mission that had been going so well falls at the very last hurdle, in spite of Spectrum’s best efforts.

One of the most chilling visuals in the series is a surfaced shard of a downed passenger plane floating up from the sea, before the camera pans out to show the duplicated plane flying through the air, and another dark shot later on, of Scarlet’s limp hand with blood running down after he died in the effort to prevent the massive explosion that occurs regardless.

Winged Assassin sets a lot of standards of things to follow; traits like massive collateral damage just as part of the Mysteron’s grander scheme, the close partnership of Scarlet and Blue, Scarlet’s seldom used Sixth Sense and even the occasional downer ending, where the Mysterons manage to sneak a victory in and actually kill or destroy their stated target.

White as Snow

This episode shines a very interesting light on the dynamics between Col. White and Scarlet. It’s obviously one of a superior giving orders most of the time, but in a twist from the somewhat strict nature of Jeff Tracy over his sons who show respect to their father by not arguing back, with these two there’s actually the occassional spark of friction, that Scarlet will voice when he doesn’t like the commands and will only reluctantly go through the motions in the situation. I’m referring mostly to the first Mysteron attack, where a satellite is on a collision course with Cloudbase, but Scarlet unsubtly opposes the plan as there’s the possibility of innocent people on board who would get killed if Spectrum shot it down first. However, he’s overruled... and it turns out that it was indeed a trap, the people on board had been exploded hours ago and what was shot down was a Replicant copy. And that’s just the first half of the episode! But I find it interesting that again, back in Thunderbirds, the call to not remotely destroy something like that on the offchance it was populated would be the Correct course of action, but in this show pragmatism is needed, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Anyway, the episode has another Mysteron attack aboard a submarine, with plenty of tension... but yet, there’s something of a comedic bend to the episode, such as a furious White shouting at the currently dead Scarlet, much to the Naval crew’s confusion, and the scene at the end which I’ve taken the picture from. The weakest part of the episode is probably Blue in charge of Cloudbase, as he doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing and I feel they coulda done more with him. Oh well! At least we got the fantastic music insert, which is also titled White as Snow.

Operation Time

Probably ranking in my Top 3, Operation Time is pretty remarkably both one of the most tension filled... yet an extremely funny episode. I guess some of that’s just due to my own odd sense of humour, though some moments are clearly intentional. Both the operation scenes, the Mysteron’s pursuit of the Doctor, and finally Spectrum chasing the Mysteron!Doctor are all played very suspensefully, and I find myself holding my breath. But then the funny scenes, like everything with Magenta and how hilariously pissy and unsubtle the Fake!Doctor gets leave me in stitches! [pun unintended lol]

I dunno, maybe some of the amusement effect is enhanced by the strong contrast between the scenes. Also we get a very grisly death for the Fake!Doctor and this episode establishes weaknesses for the Mysterons that will come up in future instalments. There’s a lot this ep has to offer, even something of an insight into 60′s medicine (though the series is set in 2068). While an extremely minor point, both the scenes with operations have the pssssshh.....fsssssshhhh sound that I associate with ventilators even though they ain’t being used, what’s up with that? But it’s another thing to add to the Atmosphere so s’all good, man.

Odd that I can’t think of much else to put here, I love it so much but maybe it’s so solid in the couple of things it does that’s all there really is to say? I’m feeling frustrated at how I don’t seem to have written enough for it, but trust me when I say it’s excellent and that it’s absolutely a Must Watch if you’re giving the series a look. (Though again, I’m spoiling each ep covered so uhh... read at your own risk if you’re using this to judge it!)

The Heart of New York

An interesting tale that I’ve actually Heard more than I’ve watched, as the audio adaptation is a free sample on the official Gerry Anderson site! [At least at the time of writing lmao, it’s worth a look anyway. This message was not paid for.]

This story is somewhat unique in that the Mysterons’ plan is pretty tame by their standards. They want to blow up... a Bank. Sure, it contributes to the long game they play, causing disruption and destruction, but compared to the casual massive collateral damage they inflict as part of a more focused murder attempt (again, see Winged Assassin and the passenger plane) this is small potatoes. But still, they end up feeling more moral in this episode than the actual ne’er do wells, a trio of would-be Robbers. These guys are pretty assholish, deliberately using the horrible cosmic war that’s already taken lives in the triple digits to hide behind while they take their pickings from a vault. Captain Black locking these morons in with the explosives feels like poetic justice, that they really did get what they wanted and are punished in kind.

Maybe this feeds the Mysteron’s point, that humans are aggressive, corrupt and selfish... though Colonel White challenges this view at the end of the episode, stating the robbers aren’t indicative of humanity as a whole. The whole shebang is a lot like The Twilight Zone, honestly. All we need is Rod Serling to open and close the episode...

Point 783

This episode is a bit harder to go into depth on, to be honest, it’s not one with a particular gimmic that makes it more memorable, but it’s a very solid ep all the same. There’s still a fair few layers that keep me thinking, like how it seems one of the Methane Trunk drivers had seemingly been Mysterionised offscreen to enable the Mysteron’s main pawns to me made. Then the first attempt to kill the Supreme Commander is thwarted by Scarlet’s (somewhat inconsistant) Mysteron Sense and perspex tubes that take their sweet time to descend and don’t even prioritise the actual target lol

Anyway, the meat of the episode is focused on the guest vehicle, the Unitron implacable unmanned Tank that can be controlled remotely by human operator or programmed to destroy something particular, and it will not stop or slow down no matter what’s thrown at it. Something something Proto-Drone Warfare commentary. The Mysterons’ last big attempt to assassinate today’s dude has one of their Mysterionised guys from earlier become the target, unknown to everyone else until he draws his gun inside the SPV (who even points out the 6th sense didn’t activate!). Scarlet gets shot 3 times but manages to eject himself and the Supreme Commander, which leads to the above scene, which offers a nice, human response.

Mr Supreme Commander later chews Blue out as it emerges instead of Scarlet going to a Hospital within 10 minutes, Spectrum insisted on waiting for one of their Helicopters to pick him up, which took 3 hours. Poor Blue has to try reassuring the army guys that Scarlet will be fine, truuuuust hiiiim. It makes me wonder if Spectrum is making things easier or harder overall by keeping his Retrometabolism under their hats, though I can understand they’d have reservations, but just trying to gloss over it with a ‘no no, it’s fine, he’ll get better.’ type answer doesn’t seem all that convincing. But I enjoy that it’s semi challenged here. And this episode summary ended up longer than expected cause all the Thinking I’ve done, haha!

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This has gotten a lot longer than expected and will be Two Parts! Find the second half here~

#Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons #Captain Scarlet #Supermarionation #Gerry Anderson #CutCat Top Lists