#musing. [ freya ]

[thedemonofcat]

Kaer Morhen keeps a lot of magic objects.

One of them is a mirror that shows you the most beautiful person in the world; however, it does so based on your subjective opinion. Beauty is inherently subjective, so the spell couldn’t work in an objective manner.

The young witchers used to dare each other to stand in front of the mirror. A risky thing to do if the person who showed up in the mirror was another trainee. Or—gods forbid—an instructor.

Nowadays, it just gathers dust in the crumbling Keep.

One cold winter’s day, Geralt stumbled upon a mirror locked away in some forgotten storage. At first, he was startled to find it didn’t show his reflection. Instead, it revealed the image of a strikingly beautiful man with blue eyes and brown hair.

The man in the mirror exhaled, fogging the glass just enough to trace words with his finger.

“Help me.”

Logically, Geralt knew he should probably question why someone had trapped another in a mirror. But in that moment, his instincts took over. Without thinking, he reached out a hand. To his surprise, it passed through the glass, allowing him to grasp the other man’s hand and pull him out.

The man stumbled free, brushing off centuries of imprisonment with a sigh. “A hundred years trapped in that blasted mirror,” he muttered, his voice lilting like music. He glanced up at Geralt with a bright smile. “I’m Julian, by the way, though most people—well, most people did—call me Jaskier.”

“Geralt,” the witcher replied curtly, his eyes narrowing. “Why were you trapped in a mirror?”

Jaskier sighed dramatically, as if recounting an age-old grievance. “I was a Muse in training,” he began, noting Geralt’s confused expression. “You know, a Muse. We inspire mortals—help them create art, music, poetry. I was being groomed to become the next Muse of Music and Poetry.”

“I’m guessing things didn’t go as planned,” Geralt said dryly.

“Oh, it was going splendidly at first! I’d even reached the part where I gained immortality,” Jaskier replied, a note of bitterness creeping into his tone. “Then some sorcerer decided to trap me in a mirror just because I refused to become his personal Muse.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve been stuck in there all this time?”

“Not just stuck,” Jaskier said with a huff. “The sorcerer, you see, was a terrible narcissist. He cursed the mirror to show only the most beautiful person. Naturally, he assumed it would reflect himself. Spent so long admiring his own face that he didn’t even notice the mob coming to kill him.” Jaskier grinned impishly, then leaned closer to Geralt. “You, my dear Witcher, are the first person to actually see me in a century.”

Geralt stared at him, unsure whether to be flattered or exasperated.

[carbone-arts]

Elise sketches to relax after a slightly stressful day

[hiraeth-muse]

Abducting Private Graves.

In which a nineteen year old Freya Maroni takes a twenty-four year old Phillip Graves hostage to stop his unit from fucking up her vigilante work. (MDNI - CW: violence, drug use, Graves being adorable bc he hasn't been corrupted yet)

It was a dry night in Las Almas. Good for spreading hell-fire, which was exactly what Private Graves’ unit had planned for the cartel bastards holed up in a scummy little back-alley storehouse. Unfortunately, he was being left out of the action. They needed a lookout, and he drew the short straw. Alone in a dark alley, rifle clutched in his arms, eyes trained on every shadow that dared to move. Even on high alert, he was bored as fuck.

That was until a young woman came stumbling into the alley, pink curls scattered around her shoulders, lips locked in an anxious pout and wide doe-eyes glancing about as if she feared the monsters in the shadows he was guarding. Black leather jacket, cropped tank top and black skinny jeans did little to hide the tattoos and scars scattered sparingly over olive-tanned skin. As she got closer, he could smell the liquor off her, could see the dilation in her pupils, ah… Poor lil thing got drunk ‘n ditched.

“Ma’am, you doin’ alright there?” Just because she looked scared and helpless didn’t mean she was, his hands stayed trained on his rifle, the safety stayed flicked off, and his eyes made a cautionary scan over her form. No obvious outlines of weapons in the tight fabric over her toned form. He tried not to let his gaze linger in the wrong spots. He failed.

“S-sí, señor, I’m fine, just…” The girl wobbled a little on her feet, her hand rushing out to clutch his bicep for stability, and the contact sent a warm shiver up Phil’s arm and down his spine, tingling all the way. That was… new. Either way, his rifle fell slack to his side, hanging loose from his shoulder as he steadied her with large hands on her hips, “J-just lost, I- do you know the way back to uh, the… fuck…” Her eyes closed as she seemed to search for the word. Jesus, she really was gone. What assholes left her alone this state? “High street! Do you… do you know the way back to the high street?”

All the stern coldness in Phil’s expression had melted away as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, giving her knuckles a soft pat. After a cautionary glance around, seeing that there was still no action in the alley, he began walking her out towards the quiet street, “Lucky for you it ain’t far, ma’am, or I’d be needin’ you for directions.” His little joke earned him a slurred giggle that had the country boy in his bones brimming with pride, her other hand coming to rest on his forearm as they walked, her head resting against his shoulder. Maybe being on lookout wasn’t so bad.

Or so he thought - because the second they were out of sight of his post; his back was against the wall, his rifle unloaded on the tarmac, his pistol in her hand and serrated blade pressed to his throat as her forearm pinned his shoulders. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t drunk. And maybe she wasn’t weak and helpless. Phil found himself holding his breath as her nose nuzzled along his jaw, a hot flush creeping up his neck and into his ears. “Ma’am, I highly suggest you- not do that-”

The laugh that escaped her was a smug fucking purr, the pressure of the blade digging in just enough to make his throat bob nervously as he tried desperately to will his blood from running south. “You’d be an idiot if you didn’t suggest that, cariño… But hear me out, this might not be so bad for you if you’re a good listener.” She took his shaky nod as a ’go ahead’, and to his horror she leaned in to murmur her words right into his ear. He helplessly stared up at the slither of night sky between the rooftops as if they might hold the answer to how he was getting out of this.

“Your men, they’re here to take out that cartel stronghold, aren’t they?” She didn’t need confirmation, she already knew, “Okay so, here’s what you stupid little boys don’t seem to understand. You can’t just storm in, blow shit up, and call it a day. Do you know why you can’t do that?” Again, she didn’t wait for a response.

“Cartels… They’re like mushrooms. There’s always more than meets the eye - what looks like one little gang operating out of one warehouse, is actually a mass network of sub-groups covering multiple areas of influence. Does that make sense?” Suddenly, Phil was aware she’d gone on this rant before. How involved was this mental case with taking down cartels?! Whatever her reasons, he nodded along. She was making an unfortunate amount of sense. “So, you take out this stronghold, they just send in new people in the next week or so and production continues, barely interrupted. What I do, the right way to do this, is disrupt the flow of product to ween the populace off their stock, gradually reduce their numbers, and finally once I’ve weakened them enough I sweep through, take out the actual members and get the innocents the fuck out of there. And yes, there’s innocents in there.”

Shit. Okay, so, this woman with her knife to his throat and his heart in his fucking asshole knew exactly what she was doing. And his men were about to commit a whole lot of civilian casualties. “So- why am I bein’ threatened, darlin’? You, uh… Left that part out.”

That little bit of boyish pride struck back aflame at the twitch of her smirk, and slowly, she removed the blade from his neck and stepped back, giving him room to breathe. “I need your radio. And I need you to act scared. We’re getting your unit out of there before they fuck up my work. So you, my cute little actor,” She announced as she spun him to face away from her, his back pressed to her chest, and the muzzle of his own pistol digging into the soft underside of his jaw, “Are going to radio your CO, tell him a member of the cartel has managed to take you hostage, and that they need to get the fuck out or she’ll kill you. Understand, chico?” Judging from the way he instantly fell into character and radioed his unit, she guessed he understood.

Phil watched in awe as the mysterious woman verbally tore his Commanding Officer a new one, revealing her true motive for getting them the fuck out of there, and making her arrangements. She would keep Phil as collateral, they would take their exfil back to base, and once she had solid confirmation that they were nice and far away from her territory, she’d make sure Private Graves got home unharmed. Apart from the bruises she’d already given him with her manhandling.

The poor Marine was utterly clueless as to what was happening. In about ten minutes he’d been yanked onto the back of a run down motorbike, sped through the alleys to a beaten up apartment building, and dragged up into a surprisingly cosy apartment. A two-seater couch that looked to have been lugged in off the street, a queen-sized mattress tucked in the corner atop old wood pallets, a coffee table and the only new-looking thing in the tiny shoebox of a home - a cat tree, with two wide, yellow eyes peering out at him sceptically.

“Uh… this is… your place?” He tried to sound less shocked than he felt, slowly looking around the apartment until his gaze settled on her - immediately looking away again as he found she’d stripped down to the tank top and a lacy, burgundy thong. Didn’t appear to have a bra on either. Sweet Lord…

“Relax, perrito.” Freya snickered as she gave him a light shove onto her couch, sinking to her knees on the floor at his feet. The sight alone had the blood in Phil’s veins rushing north to paint his cheeks crimson and south to, well, you know. Mercifully, though, she just started… Untying his laces, and slipping the heavy combat boots off his feet. The wicked grin she shot him confirmed that she knew exactly what he thought she was about to do, and another of those cruel laughs fell from her lips. He liked that laugh. Sounded like when the pretty, older girls on his street would tease and make fun of him when he was a kid, and it had his heart hammering in his chest.

“You ever smoked?” Steely blue eyes tracked her movements as she settled on the couch beside him, curling up with her legs tucked beneath her, a small tray appearing from beneath the coffee table where she started grinding up some dried buds, “Uh, just my pa’s cigarillos.” He confessed, palm rubbing at the back of his neck to wipe away the sweat starting to bead there. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, the way she was so delicate even though he knew she could be far from. The way her tongue dabbed out to wet the glue-edge of the rolling paper, the way her lips closed around the end.

He was snapped back to reality when a lighter was thrust into his grip, her slender hands closing around his fist and guiding it towards the spliff. Wordlessly, he sparked it alight, watching enamoured as she took a long drag, only to blow it out in his face, snickering once again at the way his face scrunched up slightly at the unpleasant smell. It was his turn next apparently, and he tried to copy how she’d done it, but ended up choking and spluttering. He’d expected another laugh, or for her to poke fun at him, but instead he felt one of those hands press between his shoulder blades, rubbing slow, firm circles as he caught his breath. “You okay, sweetheart?” Sweetheart. Fuck.

“Uh- yeah, just, guess this is a lil harsher than what pa smokes, huh?” Phil chuckled nervously, trailing into silence when he locked onto her concerned gaze, soon met with a newly mischievous smirk.

“We could try it another way, if you like…?” He didn’t care what it was. With her looking at him like that, he’d let her do just about anything. Give him just about anything. Take just about anything.

He realised he was doing a lot of watching, because it was happening again. Gaze pinned to her movements as she took another long, slow drag, leaned up closer, and closer, and closer, until he realised she- she was about to kiss him-

And then she did. He didn’t even have to think about it, his hands fell to her hips like second nature as his lips moulded to hers, moving slowly, softly, and she tasted of smoke - obviously the smoke - but beneath that; cherries, brown sugar, bourbon… He was so distracted by the feeling of her tongue seeking entrance and parting his lips for him that he didn’t even notice the smoke entering his lungs from her mouth, but when she pulled away and he let out the sigh he’d been holding, he couldn’t help but laugh at the weak remnant of smoke that floated up in the space between them.

“God damn…” Was all the words he could muster as he just… Gazed at her.

Second part coming soon, I just realised this was suuuper long for a tumblr post lmao.

[thenexusofsouls]

Meta: Freya's Psychology - How it Differs From Ravenna's, and Where She Falls on the Morality Spectrum

{i am the caretaker of souls} Just some random philosophical notes on Freya... She is different from Ravenna. Like, and duh, of course she is, there are layers and levels of villains, not all are the same, they're not a monolith, etc. and so forth, but... where is that line past which you say they aren't able to be rehabilitated? Where's the line between truly evil and only partly so? Between evil and affected by trauma? Evil and affected by trauma? How much evil is an acceptable level of "understandable" based on someone's trauma? Some? All? None?

I'm watching Winter's War right now because it happens to be on and I'm just... always fascinated by the interactions between Freya and Ravenna. First of all... seriously, they are both QUEENS and by "they" I mean the actresses, heh. They have amazing versatility with emotion and facial expression and it's like candy for a writer like me to watch them play in a scene together because it feeds my soul, heh, but that aside. When I watch Freya and Ravenna together, the differences between them are so apparent. SO apparent.

I've always wanted to do a deep dive into Freya's character and even compared to Ravenna's, and really get into the question of... is Freya really a sympathetic character, or can she be, or should she be... or am I just sympathetic towards her because I happen to like the character? This is not going to be that because, quite honestly, sometimes I can't tell. Or maybe it is. We'll see how well I'm able to probe her mind right now, haha. I'm in a mood, lol.

My own personal alignment is Lawful Good with Neutral Good tendencies, meaning that I will always be and champion good, and I will usually follow rules and laws but not simply for what they are. If good can and should be furthered by breaking a rule of law, I will consider it. Like for me, good comes first, law second. Lawful Good is the alignment of paladins and the classic White Knight trope in writing, although I of course would never place myself in that category which I often idealize in its purest form when I see it in fictional media. I'd say I'm the realistic life version of what that alignment could idealistically or optimally be under some fantasy conditions, heh, which isn't so pristine or heroic by any means. I'm mostly just a wet blanket to most people, I've noticed, haha. Having said that, I guess that's why I love and tend to gravitate towards writing paladin types.

So... here's a little window into my writing for you, heh... if I'm writing someone who is morally ambiguous, and especially if they are a full-on villain, it's hard for me. Very hard. I don't understand those mindsets very often and so it's difficult for me to get inside the heads of villains or morally gray characters. But... I try, because I do love the psychology of morality and to analyze the reasons behind characters' motivations, the lies they tell not only others but themselves as well, and the ways in which they justify what they do. The way my mind works, though, is very black and white, very specific... which doesn't help me write characters who don't 100% or cleanly fit the definition of a hero or a villain. Understanding where those lines are, why points are sympathetic about a character and which are not justifiable, and how to write villains and anti-heroes accurately and true to their characters despite the limitations of my own brain is something I very much struggle with.

If I can find something sympathetic about a character, there's a chance I can write them, because that's what I use as my anchor. Writing 100% evil characters doesn't interest me at all. I need ones that are evil for very sympathetic reasons, or who do evil things but then also do good things or have good qualities. Those are my biggest challenges as a writer, because it's harder to find that balance in my writing them of what my brain wants to do and what is true to the character.

In watching Snow White and the Huntsman and The Huntsman: Winter's War, I always found myself kindof fascinated by Ravenna while really hating her, heh. Not even her tragic backstory could make me sympathize with her. I enjoy watching her from an entertainment point of view, but I don't feel badly for her, nor do I feel that her actions are justified by her traumatic childhood. But with Freya, for whatever reason, despite me being Lawful Good and that alignment usually not tolerating people who do really terrible things, I always feel so sad for her and so sympathetic towards her. I've never written a thread in which Freya essentially admits that her anti-love policies are crap, that she still loves and wants to be loved, and that she's just done all of this as one long stint of improperly processing the trauma of losing her daughter and being betrayed by a lover. And yet, she reveals almost all of that in the actual movie.

Going back to what I said about seeing the differences clearly between Freya and Ravenna in their scenes together, I notice so much more emotional faltering on the part of Freya than Ravenna. I think I only saw Ravenna cry once in Winter's War, and that was nothing more than her eyes tearing up as she said, "Do you think think I wanted a child? Do you not think I wanted love? But I was not meant for such things. I have a higher calling." I don't believe her when she "cries" during that line. It comes across as performative rather than genuine emotion. The character, I mean, not the actress. The supposedly spontaneous display of actual emotion feels just as stilted and contrived in the moment as does any other of Ravenna's "emotions." Freya, on the other hand... I believe her emotion is real. The way her eyes dart around, the hard swallows, the uncertainty in her expression. And later, when Ravenna starts killing her Huntsman, if Freya's panic for their safety isn't love, I don't know what is.

I refuse to make Ravenna a muse, even though she's been bugging me to do it for about two years now. The reason I won't is because 1) I don't think I would write her well, even though I have kindof dabbled with her as a guest muse as times, 2) I have nowhere to go with her, no development goals, no endgame of redemption, nothing to push her towards. I don't just write characters I like, I write ones that I want better future for, alternate futures for, or that I feel have a plethora of untapped potential for scenarios that were never explored in canon. Ravenna... is a cold-hearted conqueror, she always will be, and nothing and no one can ever change her. But if we look at what Ravenna's done, and what Freya's done, they're almost identical. They're both sorceresses who use their powers cruelly, they're both conquerors, and they both think the world has wronged them and owes them power in return. So what's different about Ravenna and Freya that makes it okay in my mind to write Freya but not Ravenna?

I think maybe it's that Ravenna is out for herself 100% of the time, but Freya isn't? Ravenna, at the end of every day, at the conclusion of every battle or conflict, and in every life or death situation, will always choose herself. Self-preservation and survival is paramount to her in any situation. In the first movie, she sacrificed her own brother to save herself, even though he was her greatest ally. In the second movie, she killed Freya to protect herself, or at least dealt the fatal wound that eventually killed her. No one and nothing will ever mean as much to Ravenna... as herself. That sort of selfishness, at least in my mind, is permanent and never changing. It's also uninteresting to me, because there's no room for development.

Freya isn't... always selfish. And I'm not even sure that I would call it selfishness. I'm really not sure, heh. Usually I don't write a muse unless I really understand them, or I've created them myself, because need to come from a place of deep knowing to write someone, that's just my deal and the limitations of my abilities as a writer. But Freya is that rare exception of me feeling like I really don't fully understand her. There's emotion there, there's love, there's need, there's loneliness, there's heartache and grief... but then she takes all of those things and does such terrible things with them. So is she redeemable or not? My first instinct is to say yes, but then I shy away from ever writing her reaching that point, even though it's probably what I want most for her. Why is that?

Maybe it's that I don't really understand why she does what she does? My best explanation for the many inconsistencies and contradictions in her philosophy on love is that she's lying to herself, processing trauma in an entirely toxic way, and refusing to believe comfortable lies instead of painful truths about her own life. She couldn't deal with losing her child or with the idea that someone she'd loved and trusted had betrayed her (I know it was really Ravenna, but Freya doesn't know that until the very end), so she searched for some greater meaning in it, some answer outside herself. Rather than believe either that 1) sometimes bad things happen to good people and there's no reason for it and it doesn't make any sense, or that 2) she'd been naive and taken advantage of because of that, she chose to believe that there was some grander evil afoot that resulted in her life being destroyed.

Freya's philosophy is entirely meant to make her personal traumas easier to bear. All love is evil and wrong. That's why it hurt her. All men are selfish pigs who just use women and throw them away. That's why her lover betrayed her. Love will always end in tragedy and pain. That's why it happened to her. By believing this, she removes any blame from herself, and places it instead on the universe. This is more comfortable to believe than the reality of... I was wronged randomly and without greater meaning, it just happened, and that's that. Instead, she can now believe that she was but one victim in the multitudes that love has claimed throughout time. Well now how was she to resist or to avoid it, when love is just that insidious and cruel?

Where her evil then comes in is two-fold. First, she knows better. Freya isn't insane, as much as people like to label her as such. She's of sound mind, knows what she's doing, and knows right from wrong. But even knowing that, she chooses to feed her own lies. She chooses to ignore what she knows is the truth in favor of feeding into her own narrative to make herself feel better. Second, she decides to commit atrocities way worse than what was done to her in order to accomplish this.

Freya is hurt by what her lover did and feels vulnerable and taken advantage of, so she conquers to prove she's strong and not a victim, to overwrite in her mind how powerless and fragile she felt all those years ago. She lost her child and now has nowhere to go with her need to be a mother, and she has a need to replace the child she lost. So she takes the children of others and deludes herself into thinking she's saving them, that they're actually better off with her, and that she's saving them from ever having to feel the pain that she felt. In reality, she's causing them all that pain and so much more. She needs to believe this narrative, though, otherwise her whole philosophy on life, herself, and what happened to her comes crashing down, and she'll be forced to face and process the trauma she's never been willing to confront before.

But... Freya does love her "children," she truly does. I think she started out kindof deluding herself with this philosophy of... well I'm taking you from your parents and saving you from love to make you stronger... but then later on, she had to keep up that narrative or she'd have to face that she'd actually wronged them... and the potential fact that none of them actually love her the way she loves them. It's so sad to me to think that she was alone with that love, that she cared so much for them but then at the same time tried to ignore it and pretend like each time one of them died it didn't hurt her, when I think it did. I think a lot of her coldness was an act, and I would challenge her writers to show me more scenes when she was alone in her sanctum, for example after she'd ordered Eric to be killed, either the first time or the second. I think she would have felt real emotion for him, and for all others that had fallen as a result of her orders. But it was clear to me in the way she looked at her Huntsman, the way she spoke to them, the way she feared for them in having to tell them of Ravenna's new orders or when Ravenna attacked them, that she did genuinely love them.

What's even sadder to me, is that I think she believed they loved her too, or at least wanted to believe that. When Eric tries to kill Freya towards the end of the movie, she looks totally shocked that he would attempt such a thing. She even asks, "Why?" so incredulously. What do you mean, why, heh? He tried to kill you before too! He has so many reasons to! But she actually was surprised. Like why would you want to kill me? I find that fascinating. She was either so deluded in thinking she really hadn't done anything wrong to him, or she refused to believe that Eric really didn't think of her as his queen or mother or whatever else as she wanted him to. That's... so sad.

Freya also, aside from the fact that she took them from their parents gave them no choice whatsoever except to become soldiers, treated her "children" pretty well. "I gave you everything," she even says. They weren't starving. They had good clothes and equipment. A lot of the girls' hair was intricately braided, which suggests some amount of downtime and self care of each other, that they would do that for each other. They had personal items, weapons, clothing... Sara even was permitted to keep her mother's talisman. So they weren't like... tortured or starved or even prevented from having their own personality quirks, like Sara's haughtiness, Eric's comical humor, Tull's insecurity, or Leifr's overblown, alpha male arrogance. Eric's moments with Pippa, too, were heartwarming. However, they were psychologically conditioned and physically pushed to their limits, so some might argue that in itself was torture. But I argue that there's a difference in mentality of a ruler, parent, leader, etc. who would expect much from their children/people/soldiers but treat them well in return, rather than someone who just runs them into the ground without care, treating them as expendable objects.

Tiny side note, that scene where Freya is dissociating a bit by her baby's ice-encrusted cradle, or an ice replica of it I'm not sure which tbh, and one of her "children" comes to bring her her owl mask and he's carrying a torch... She has an emotional outburst due to her traumatic relationship with fire and blows out the torch, freeze-burning his hand. He's clearly afraid of her, even as he hands her the mask. A truly heartless, evil queen who had no caring for her children/subjects would not care about his feelings. But Freya does. She bothers to soften her expression and whisper, "It's alright," to reassure him that she's not really mad at him, and that she forgives his transgression. I think that's very telling for her character.

Larger side note here... all three times she orders Eric to be killed, Freya turns away. The first time, she says, "Take him out of my sight," and turns away. She pauses to look back, but decides against it. The second time, she tells Sara, "Kill him," but then turns her back and goes to the mirror. The third time, Eric even asks her, "Why do you turn away, Freya?" as she's being forced by Ravenna to condemn him and Sara to execution. I think this is an important window to see through the coldness of her orders, which many take as her absolute personality. Well she toys with them, she orders them killed, so she's a cold bitch and there's no feeling there. No, I think she does it because she feels she has to in order to maintain power, but it bothers her, and she would have preferred not to do it. She doesn't want to see Eric die, and that's why she looks away all three times. And her words to him when she comes upon him and the dwarves in Sanctuary, "Eric. My Eric. Your queen has missed you," I believe she was being truthful. She did miss him. That's her Eric. Her "son." Her Huntsman. Her subject. Someone she loves.

Another telling line from the first time he tried to kill her, was, "You knew, didn't you? You knew she would betray you and you spared her still." The emotion in Freya's eyes was genuine at that point. There's a coldness, an emotionless mask that she wears that's almost as performative as Ravenna's, but for Freya, it's very consciously constructed. She has to focus to maintain it, whereas with Ravenna, it's natural and even enjoyable to her. When she says that line, a piece of that same incredulity that she has at the end when Eric tries again to kill her is there in her eyes. She really doesn't understand Eric's behavior and his willingness to be hurt for love. Oh, Freya knows love exists, and that it can be real, she's just too hurt and too afraid to admit it. But what she doesn't understand is why someone would allow themselves to be hurt by it, as in her mind, Eric was. In her mind, there's nothing worse than being screwed over by love, so Eric's willingness to sacrifice himself for it is something that is so outside of Freya's ability to understand at that point. She can't be shown it, she has to feel it herself and learn how to do it through experience.

Also, I'd like to point out, going back to her turning away each of three times she order's Eric's death, that... bitch can literally freeze anyone she wants almost instantly. She can throw ice spikes. She can make a big wall and crush someone with it, I mean... Let's face it, if she wanted Eric dead... really wanted him dead, he'd be dead. When she says that line I mentioned up there and he tries to stab her with his dagger, she grabs his arm. At that point, she could have killed him. Easily. She didn't. Some might argue it didn't serve her purposes at that point, but I disagree. He was a thorn in her side and getting rid of him would have been easier for her and it would have "protected" Sara from his "toxic" love. Some could argue that it was beneath her, that a queen doesn't do her own dirty work. Nah, she'd frozen the two dwarves not seconds ago. Granted, she didn't kill them, but they might have easily been killed, since all those people she freezes end up on a life-sized chess board, and when a piece is taken off the board during a play, the person is shattered, essentially killing them. This was seen in a deleted scene where she plays such a game against Ravenna, but I digress. My point is, it would've been so easy for her to kill Eric, and Freya doesn't shy away from using her magic on people. The only reason she didn't, in my mind, was that she didn't want him dead.

And of course, Freya's final line, as she lays dying and is looking at Sara and Eric yet again in love and working together so well, "How lucky you are." That line breaks my freaking heart. It reveals so much, not the least of which is that she, after everything she'd said and done, still admires and envies those in love. It means she views love in a positive light in some regard. She views love like theirs in a positive light, love that's real and stands the test of time. I think she longed for that herself, and in that moment she realizes that it does exist, just... not for everyone. Not for her. But it does for them. And so... how lucky they are to have it. To have each other. My girl breaks my heart in that moment and I think this one line may have been the linchpin in why I ultimately wanted to write her myself.

But after saying all of this, I feel like nothing more than a Freya apologist, and that doesn't sit well with me. I can't figure out whether that's just my own personal alignment butting heads with Freya's alignment, or whether I'm really seeing things that aren't there and making excuses for a character who doesn't deserve the understanding or second chances. If anyone has any thoughts on all of this, I'd love to hear them! Well, read them, heh.

Alright now let's now take a second to think about why Ravenna did what she did to Freya. Because we can, heh. Freya in her youth was no threat to Ravenna, because as I've established, Ravenna is always out for herself and wants to be on top. By making her a sorceress and awakening her magic through trauma, she actually made Freya capable of rivaling her. Why would she do that? Well, I don't think that was her intention, heh. She had other ones...

In their first scene together, Ravenna says to Freya, "I suppose you are my weakness." That right there, might have been enough reason for her to want to hurt Freya. Eliminating any and all weaknesses is important to Ravenna, because weakness could mean death if it's used against her. But I don't think that's the whole reason. The way Ravenna looks at her when she's looking longing and lovingly at her lover at court is... a look of resentment. Jealousy. Is it possible that Ravenna envied Freya's innocence, or was jealous that someone loved her? Could it be that she was jealous that Freya found real love when she's just seducing and killing kings who only want one thing from her? I would believe that if I also believed Ravenna really wanted to be loved herself, but I really don't think that matters to her.

Could it just be that Ravenna resented her sister being happier than she was? Jealous, maybe, that Freya was happy and didn't need magic in her life while Ravenna was a slave to hers? Or maybe it wasn't even that meaningful... maybe Ravenna just saw her happy and wanted to spoil it. But maybe she knew the magic only comes to protect the sorceress, and Freya needed something to be protected from. She might resent the fact that her life is ruled by her magic, having to always feed it with beauty and blood, such as she does. It wasn't really her choice to have it, it was given to her by her mother. Maybe she wants Freya to feel that same kind of magic-made prison? Maybe she resents her carefree freedom to live her life without the burden that magic brings? I really don't know, my understanding of Ravenna is even worse than that of Freya, haha.

Also I wonder... if maybe Ravenna can't have children for some reason? Because at the end of the second movie, that comment she makes of, "Do you not think I wanted a child?" Um, no, ma'am, I actually would never have thought for a second that you did? Given your personality? XD But is she saying there... that she did? Her eyes tear up, which is interesting. Maybe... that is the root of it. Because she didn't turn on Freya until she realized that she was carrying her lover's child. It would also explain why she didn't just go after the lover, but also killed the child as well. Revenge? Retaliation? A temper tantrum? Because she was jealous that Freya could have children and she could not? Meh... maybe not, heh, since the mirror told her the baby would grow to be even fairer than her, blah blah, so I suppose it's possible Ravenna only went after the baby for that reason. But there was no reason to drag the lover into it. She could have just killed the baby, or compelled a random guard to do it for her, she didn't have to make Freya's lover do it. That bit right there... suggests Ravenna's motivation was not only the baby's eventual fairness alone.

So... there's not much of a point to all of this besides me unloading my brain on the subject of... why do I feel so sympathetic towards Freya but not Ravenna, when they've both dealt with trauma... and also, how redeemable is Freya, really? Am I only seeing what I want to see in her, or is there really something to work with there? I don't know, and maybe that's what I like about her as a muse, that I don't have her all figured out yet. That's honestly never been my m.o. before, heh, I usually like to understand a character inside and out before I write them. *shrugs* I guess we'll see the more I write them, how things turn out for her!

No, Ravenna, you will never be a full muse here. Stop asking me! XD

Meanwhile Eric wants me to get rid of both of them, heh. Muses, amirite?

Phew. Okay. Well. That was a thing I just wrote, haha. I have no idea where this came from tonight, but I hope at least somebody enjoys reading it, heh. Now that I've gotten this out of my system, I'm going to get to some other things! =)

[starstrikin]

Freya sat at one of the tables at Rousseau. It was busy, busier than it had been in the months that she had owned it. Almost too busy. She normally didn't have a problem sitting at one of the tables, but today she felt like she was imposing and taking a needed table from the wait staff. As she looked around she sighed. "I think we are going to need at least a few more staff," she commented with all the dead back. She had a feeling the place was going to stay busy. "Maybe expand to next door," she mused. "What do you think?"

@exitiumstarters

[rosesonbreeze]

@jetaiimee | Freya and Henry, The Norton Castle

There is no peace in failure, anymore than there is in success. Henry flips between the two spectrums; from Lumi's record high on the exchange, to the disastrous low of a public flogging. He emerges with more zeroes in his account and more followers on his socials. But the negative press takes its heavy toll, and those demons he's shooed away turn into weeks in the deep end. Hallucinogens. White powder. Even a stint in Eastern Europe, traveling with those justas haunted as he. It takes his uncle, Lord Norton, to lure him back. "Rest and relaxation" back at his country estate. Somewhere to sober up, clean up.

It scarcely works, and one restless breath from the pool later, he sees what looks like Freya's mirage standing at the entryway.

"Am I still blasted?" He asks rhetorically, moving towards the steps of the pool. When was the last time he'd seen her? Somewhere in between his public trial, and his last bender no doubt. "Who sent you? My uncle, or my godfather?" Even as Henry says it, there's a breathe of thankfulness. He never would have picked up the phone on his own accord.

[monixoconnor]

MERROCK TASK - YOUR SONG

Wings - Birdy

Sunlight comes creeping in Illuminates our skin We watch the day go by Stories of all we did It made me think of you It made me think of you Under a trillion stars We danced on top of cars Took pictures of the stage So far from where we are They made me think of you They made me think of you

Cover me in sunshine - P!nk

From a distance all these mountains Are just some tiny hills Wildflowers, they keep living While they're just standing still I've been missing yesterday But what if there's a better place? Cover me in sunshine Shower me with good times Tell me that the world's been spinning Since the beginning And everything will be alright

Born to Try - Deltra Goodrem

No point in talking what you should have been And regretting the things that went on Life's full of mistakes, destinies and fate Remove the clouds look at the bigger picture

[familiasworn]

..................................................Hogni just let someone into his room.

Someone that wasn't their Lady.

Or Hedin.

...Blasphemers, the both of them.

[cxdemusings]

What can I say, I'm drawn to Healers.

[gctawaygirl]

closed starter : for @heartwars who liked my starter call (i had anabel in mind but happy for you to go with someone else) muse : freya reyes (24, she/her, pansexual, junior campaign manager) plot : freya and anabel have been apart for several months due to her tour so freya has decided to get her a special present for the holidays: herself. if you would rather use a different muse of yours (or of mine), let me know and i can alter.

freya had damn near talked herself out of this a dozen times over. she was desperate to see the other. it had been too long and no amount of video calls could match up to the real thing. tonight's concert was in a city not too far away so after giving herself a good pep talk and ordering an outfit for the occasion, here she was. freya stood in the middle of anabel's dressing room, tugging down at the white trim of the short red skirt she had bought. it matched the santa hat on her head and the skimpy top of the same design which showed off her midriff. she was definitely not the type to put on a sex christmas outfit and surprise the person she was dating but perhaps anabel brought that out of here. eyes widening as the doorknob pushed down, freya stopped tugging at the skirt that just barely covered her backside and tried to pose in a sensual way. she felt completely awkward and uncomfortable but a grin plastered across her face when she saw the familiar blonde, "merry christmas!" she exclaimed.

[bvlladonnas]

♡ ANGEL'S SILLY HEADCANONS: FLOWERS (2/2)

we're back in the fucking building (angel forgot she never finished this). ximena's, freya's, kaito's, & briar's favorite flowers, and why. / @valpoinspo

ximena likes peonies. peonies represent prosperity, good luck, love, and honor. the flowers are quite expensive, particularly for a family of twelve, and so they were often part of ximena's birthday gifts growing up, a rare treat to have adorning her shared room. she loved the way they bloomed, how they would take up a whole vase. when xime got to her house in chile, there was a bouquet of peonies awaiting her on the counter, the most she'd ever seen. she sobbed the whole night after reading the card (what's new, miss sentimental) – her parents and grandparents had pooled money to get her this many, a "good luck" on her new endeavors, a request to continue to make them proud. she dried pressed every single one of them so they could never die.

honorable mentions: carnations, camellias, and lotuses.

freya likes yarrow. a common sight around the reservation growing up, freya used to spend endless hours counting petals with their friends (what they thought was a clever way to stay out past curfew and mess around). yarrow reminds freya of home, and endless nights laughing under a blanket of stars. since yarrow represents youthful love, rania received a small bouquet of it when freya finally asked her to be their girlfriend. very cheesy, but clearly it worked. now every bouquet rania receives (or any bouquet freya buys, actually) contains a bit of the flower; they see little piece of themselves in every bunch.

honorable mentions: hyacinths, orchids, and pincushion flowers.

kaito likes cherry blossoms. much like oliver's reasoning, they remind him of home. while he doesn't have as many bittersweet (heavy on the bitter) memories as oliver does, the yellow and white petals remind him of simpler times. walks home from school with his brothers, strolls through the park with his mother. the one weekend a year his father would be home and not look at his phone once, prioritizing his family over his work. they would sit outside and bask in the falling petals, watch the trees sway in the wind. cherry blossoms represent rebirth, new beginnings, and renewal, something kaito will know intimately quite soon.

honorable mentions: birds of paradise, spider lilies, and lily of the valley.

briar likes tulips. tulips, while having a variety of meanings, are known for representing love. to briar, they represent his mother. on the way home from school they'd often stop by the store to pick her up a bouquet with whatever money he could scrounge up at the time. it was a rare instance of a genuine, excited smile from the woman, something briar though they couldn't give her anymore. he likes yellow ones, specifically, because those were her favorite. there's a spot on his windowsill that houses a singular yellow tulip in a vase at all times. ask them and they'll just say they thought it looked nice.

honorable mentions: california poppies, cactus flowers, and wisteria.

[thedemonofcat]

They called him Dandelion, the bard with the golden voice. Although he likely preferred the name Jaskier, this was over a century ago. He often wondered why he had fallen out of favor with his original name, Juilan.

The names Jaskier used mattered little; he would always be the child of a Muse. His goal was to use his magic and music to help and inspire others. However, one day a Mage, desiring a Muse of his own, captured and imprisoned Jaskier within his lute.

Years later, long after the Mage had been forgotten, the Witcher Geralt received the lute as part of a reward for a job. With no use for it and facing a particularly cold night, Geralt decided to use the lute as kindling to keep the fire going and warm Roach.

To his surprise, someone magically emerged from the fire where the lute had been burning.

[echospast]

i will be working on those memes with my limited time this weekend, which anyone is as always free to make into starters, but like this post for a starter and i would love it if you'd specify who for!

[ofdarkestdesires]

Make a muse!

So did you guys know there are more kinds of Genasi?

NAME: Freya Frosfeltyr RACE: Ice Genasi CLASS: Barbarian (Storm Herald) BACKGROUND: Noble AGE: 27 HEIGHT: 6'1"

STR 18 (+4) INT 13 (+1) DEX 14 (+2) WIS 9 (-1) CON 18 (+4) CHA 12 (+1)

[coreofgold]

@vcndetta for Freya

"Freya, is it?" Astarion asks, silver hair perfectly quaffed and dressed in a regal outfit from Baldur's Gate. "If it is, it appears I am your blind date."

[multi-royalty]

On todays no sleep thoughts, cursed stolen daughters.