#; but it's Mads' burden alas

[jelliegirl]

well at least i’m recovered from my cancer treatment enough that i can literally run away from my problems

[distopea]

Did Mads and Mika inherit their father's traits? Are there parts of them that they deny, ignore or fear because they can see their father reflected in their own actions or thoughts?

@nezumivc103221

Among these two, Mika is definitely the one who's closer to his mother, Selene, in terms of attitude and behavior, even physically. She was a sunny woman with a high positivity in general, very much inclined to help people. Her eyes were like Mika's, her hair and complexion too. 

From his father, he carries almost nothing, if perhaps a few traits here and there that give clues to his origins, and the blurry memory of a man of strong violence and abuse. He was blessed to somehow forget a bit who that man was, and he has never picked up on his attitude either, simply because he has always tried to help Mads carry on through his trauma. He's only stubborn and secretive in the end, a bit like his father Elys was... But other than that, Mika feels utterly different. 

For Mads, it's much more complicated. He has the sensation of carrying all the flaws his father ever bore, and it's definitely hard to endure it. Since a very young age, everyone who has known his father had always claimed he was the spitting image of Elys. Same dark straight hair, same intense eyes, same nose, same shape of lips and same jaw... Physically, Elys was everything he is today. 

From his father, alas for Mads, he has the sensation of being forever tainted with his anger issues, his lack of trust, his guarded nature and his profound loneliness. He doesn't wish to be like him, but he finds a reflection of himself inside his memories, and it's quite increasing his trauma and his inability to move on. 

Elys could have been someone decent; a part of Mads knows it. He was a man who snapped and got broken inside for different issues, and more than once Mads felt like he was standing and walking on the same path. 

[thebramblewood]

Everyone say congratulations to the new uncle! Thank you @itcrescentcrow for your lovely Veronica Aurelius, whose story inspired me to have Vlad start a vampire family of his own (for entirely unspiteful reasons, I'm sure).

P.S. Join the fan club if you haven't already!

Previous / Next

Caleb: [startled] Jesus Christ!

Vlad: [wryly] Guess again. I couldn’t help noticing you’ve acquired a new… houseguest. That girl is freshly turned. She has all the grace of a newborn colt. Your sister’s latest plaything, I presume?

Caleb: How many times have I told you I’m not interested in indulging your desire for gossip? Anyone with a modicum of social grace would have taken the hint by now.

Vlad: [continues, unruffled] The curious thing is I’ve seen her before, the girl, at your insipid little gathering of hedonists in the spring. Her cheeks were much rosier then, as I recall. I’m surprised Lilith offered her the dark gift so soon — or at all. Does she not expect to grow bored of this one? Or, I wonder, did something not go precisely according to plan?

Caleb: [defensively] Lilith didn’t turn her. She nearly killed her. I did it to save her life.

Vlad: [amused] Always the humanitarian, you — though it is strange you would choose to burden another with an existence you clearly detest. But I must admit I’m impressed. I wasn’t sure you had it in you. Frankly, I rather thought you’d be dead or driven to madness by now. [sighs stagily] At any rate, I wish you luck. If you’re hoping to raise her in your image, you’ll need it. I can’t imagine Lilith will surrender her easily. Alas, I must go. There are other matters-

Veronica: [snarls aggressively]

Caleb: Who are you?

Vlad: Manners, darling.

Veronica: Sorry, Uncle Vlad. My dinner almost got away from me.

Vlad: [strangely paternalistic] Isn’t she a marvel?

Caleb: Uncle Vlad?

Vlad: This is my niece, Veronica. Well, cousin several times removed, but that’s such a mouthful. I’ve been trying to introduce her for some time.

Caleb: I must have mistaken that for your usual garden variety creeping.

Vlad: We have a common ancestor in my maker, though the bloodlines diverged centuries ago and hers was thought to be quite diluted. You see, after generations of tamping down their vampiric nature, their powers had largely grown dormant. But Veronica is special. She tells me her dreams led her to me. Can you believe it? [chuckles] I haven’t dreamed since I was mortal. At any rate, I’ve taken her under my wing. I have much to teach her, and she is an eager pupil.

Caleb: Good… for you.

Lilith, looking out on them from the window: He has a WHAT?!?

[olive-may-write]

Hope

Hi! So this is the first time that I've wrote somthing this length in a while so this will be a bit rusty.

This is slightly self indulgent as someone who has chronic pain, I just thought I'd write someone up with a reader who has it in mind.

Anyway reader is someone who experiences chronic pain, it's a small insight into the mind of someone who lives with it. I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possoble, but other than that I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to give feedback of any kind, I just ask that you are kind <3.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton X Reader

Possible triggers: Dissusion of mental health problems, mentions of chronic pain and how it can affect someone's life, Mention of feeling sick / vomiting.

---------------------------------

The drawing room is not exactly the best place for you to be right now, you had initially thought that a spot of reading would be a sufficient distraction from the blinding pain shooting through your temple. unfortunately, the book you are reading, or trying to at least is not providing any useful distraction, with the words on the page becoming more blurred the more you try to preserver.

Huffing you close the book, trying to focus on something else to distract you from the burden you carry. The pain. 

You were never a sickly child, quite the opposite, you were always able to bounce back from any aliment that affected you, that was until sometime during your early adulthood. You cannot fully remember when it happened, just that one day it started, a sharp pain like a needle had been pushed through just under your kneecap and the stubborn thing would not go away.

At first, you had thought you had just over-exerted yourself during the social season with dancing, however, when that had ended, and you found yourself with more time to rest and recover you found that this pain remained. And it had gotten worse, it slowly moved upwards towards your other joints, sending sparks between all the different offending joints. 

A knock at the door breaks your train of painful thought, you slowly move towards the door, confused as you had confessed to your maid that if anyone needed or wanted you for anything to very gently turn them in another direction to not exacerbate your pain anymore with meaningless conversations. 

The door slowly creeks open, your maid’s face apologetically peeking around the frame.

“Apologies, I understand you did not want to be bothered; however, you have a visitor. One who is very adamant to see you, even after I explained that you had fallen ill today…”  she relays, she seems almost skittish, unlike her usual self. This visitor has put up more of a battle than others, who would see you? 

Sighing you looked towards her, trying not to cringe at a sudden stinging in your temples, you can’t very well be mad at her, after all, she can’t ultimately swat away everyone that wants to see you, though you had hoped that you would’ve had more time to try and calm down this headache before seeing anyone, alas, fortune is not in your favour today. 

“Please do not apologise, Ester, you tried your best,” you say sympathetically. “I do not think I would be so lucky to hide myself away for the whole day without interruptions, please do send whoever is most eager to see me in, if you would not mind.” With the housekeeper slipping back out the door you try to calm yourself, ‘breath, just breath’ you think, trying to calm yourself down, trying to calm the headache, as well as your body. 

You are not given enough time, as you hear the door opening again, this time more swiftly than before, footsteps moving quickly and a huffing breath. You then realise a slight error in your wording to your maid early, while you had instructed her to tell people that you had fallen ill, you mostly assumed that she would only need to tell people already aware of your ailment, and with that understanding they would know that you were somewhat alright and not gravely ill and not someone else. Someone who is not aware of your condition, someone who is now staring at you with anxious eyes trying to determine what it is that is wrong with you. 

With your body still positioned towards the door you fully take in your visitor, Mr Benedict Bridgerton. You watch as he steps into the room, the door slowly closing over, trapped. 

“I was told you were ill” he starts, stepping closer towards the chair you reside in, eyes still darting over you trying to determine the cause of your ‘illness.’ 

“I give my apologies for being so ardent in wanting to see you, I had initially come here under different pretences, however, the way your maid described your illness I was stricken with worry.” He speaks too quickly, staring at you with a slightly overwhelming concern.

“What ails you so?” he finishes almost crouching in front of you. The pause in the room is too stifling, this question that you hoped you would never have to answer while alone. In the past, you were always quite fortunate when the question had come up, with your father or mother there to quickly move the conversation along. Never bringing the truth to light. 

“A misstep walking down some stairs! The floors had just been washed and they were simply too enthralled within their novel to notice” was one such story that had to be shelved after multiple uses.

“Oh, you know they were just so concentrated with their needlework that they strained their hands; nothing to concern yourself about” another one, a slightly more believable story, and one that could be told repeatedly. However this time you were alone, there was no one to save you, no one to swiftly tell a half-truth. No, you were on your own, and with a mind-numbing headache in addition. 

“Ah, yes, erm please do excuse Ester, she does tend to exaggerate a little bit with her storytelling, I have but a simple headache.” You are not exactly lying, you do have a headache, you are simply omitting that the ache is also everywhere else within you. 

“Oh, thank goodness!” Benedict replies, visibly relaxing, almost bending in half with the sigh he lets out. 

“I thought you to be gravely ill with how your maid detailed your condition” he continues, “That you could hardly move, and you were racked with pain” he recounts, what you can only assume to be Esther's attempt at persuasion. And while true, you had hoped she would have chosen something along the lines of having a simple cold. 

“Yes, well, as you can see, I am in perfect health, you have nothing to worry about Mr Bridgerton, though your concern is duly appreciated. I do hope your time has not been wasted by travelling over here,” you respond, very much hoping that you can put this conversation to bed. You can feel the pain in your temples starting to come down towards your neck, you need to move, having been sitting in one position for too long but with Mr Bridgeton here you could not just up and move. You also had forgotten your cane this morning in your room, not thinking you would need it very much today, and you did not particularly want to be witnessed limping up and out of the room in front of a man who had no idea of your condition. 

Your only plausible solution was to grin and bear it, or rather, politely smile and nod along to whatever this man was about to ask you.

“Nonsense!” he exclaims loudly in a jovial manner, making the pain shoot through you once more.

“My time is never wasted when it comes to you” he speaks softly, as if he realised that by shouting, he would be causing you pain. 

“If you are in good health I was wondering if I might ask something of you?” Ah the question you have been waiting for, it could not have come quicker. 

“Yes, you may” Your response could be seen as quite rushed if you were in a normal situation, however with the pressure in your temples building and the pain slowly becoming more intense, you found yourself not caring how your actions could be perceived as by others of the ton.

There is a moment of silence where neither of you say anything, staring at him expectingly, you choose to prompt him by nodding your head towards him, hoping he catches onto your hint. 

“Oh Right!” he starts with a jump. “Well I came here today with a confession of sorts, I have witnessed you, wait! Ah!” he suddenly stops almost aware of how slightly strange he must sound. 

“Oh goodness, well- I, god” You take some pity on him as he seems to stumble over his words, ablet not enough pity to warrant sitting patiently in an increasingly uncomfortable chair. 

“Mr Bridgton, I do not mean to rush you but would you please simply ask this question” huffing slightly. 

“I know this is not how I am supposed to go about this, but I cannot ignore my feelings for you any longer! Please would you do the honour of letting me court you?”

There is a pause after his confession, stunned, shocked you are not sure how to respond. You almost think it is some cruel jest that he has been set up to follow through, but as you look at him, his expression and how he holds himself you realise that he is being as truthful. You feel as if someone has thrown a bucket of cold water over you, what does this mean? This cannot be real. This man of high stature wants to court you. While not lowly in rank, you certainly are not what you would expect a Bridgerton to go for and certainly not someone as seemingly broken as yourself. 

Sitting there for a few more moments you realise that he is still waiting for your response. 

“I, I cannot” you start “I am very sorry, but I cannot accept this offer.” You state, dropping your focus to the floor. 

“I. what?” Benedict almost laughs, stunned. 

“Why can you not? Are you intended to another?”

“No, I am very much not.”

“Are you interested in someone else?” You scoff at the question. 

“No, not that it matters either way” The pain starting to build up even more now that you are having to argue your case.

“I have refused your offer, Mr Bridgton, I do fear that Ester had some truth in her words and I feel a headache coming on. I think it best that you leave for the day” You aren’t lying per se,  you have had a headache for the best part of the day. 

“But why not? I do apologise, but I am simply confused. You are not intended to another, and you are not interested in anyone else, so why refuse my offer.” He states.

“At least agree to court me, and then you can make your decision afterwards, at least let me have a chance to show you how I care for you.”

You are starting to get frustrated, and the pain in your head has started to become unbearable, like someone smashing pots and pans together, you feel a ringing in your ears, and you almost want to throw up. 

“I am not well!” you explode, your breathing is ragged as your chest moves quickly. The pain in your temples is more present than ever, cringing you move to push your forefinger and thumb to either side of your nose bridge and start to pinch, hoping that brute force would almost will the pain to subside. 

‘Pathetic’ you think to yourself, ‘I can’t even argue correctly, must everything I do be muddled with pain?’ You try and calm your breathing, focusing on the feeling of your fingers on your face, the clothes you are wearing, your breathing, anything to try and calm the pain down before it loses control. 

There is a strange tension between the both of you, a quiet blanket that has been placed over the room as you do not know what to say. 

“I am not well sir… I have not been for quite some time” you start again, still pressing your finger and thumb into the sockets below your eyebrows. 

“Ester was right. I am riddled with pain, every day. I cannot dress without the pain, eat without it, speak, walk, laugh; live without it, I am tormented by it…” You begin to feel a sharp pain behind your eyes as tears start to fall onto your cheeks. Realising that by unravelling this thread that you would not be able to stop, you cannot tangle it back up again and simply throw it into your sewing box never to be spoken about again. 

“I cannot be who you want me to be, I cannot offer you anything. It hurts to live, and I cannot burden you with that, you would be throwing away your freedom if I were to agree to your request. Do you want that? To be saddled with an intended that cannot do the simplest of tasks without the burden of pain?” You seem to burst out into a frenzy of words. 

Without giving him a chance to argue back you move to stand, using a hand to brace yourself on the side of the chair you are occupying, you push down to give your body the momentum to move, your elbow shaking as it strains under the surplus of weight it is not normally used to. You curse yourself for not bringing your cane with you.

You pause while trying to catch your breath, frustrated that you simply cannot run out of the room and hide after such a shocking outburst, left to just stand there trying to muster up the strength and energy to try and move towards the door. With your head tilted down you were fortunate enough that you could not see his face, which was one of pain and shock. 

Starting again you move towards the door, gripping the backs of chairs and the edges of side tables, with your back turned you don’t see Benedict moving as well, like a kicked puppy wanting to be comforted he follows behind you, he does keep his distance, not wanting to upset you further than you already are.

As you place your hand on the door, dropping it down so you are grabbing the handle, you feel a presence behind you. From the corner of your vision, you see a hand place itself on the door. You slowly turn around to face him, you thank some part of him that he is not crowding you up against the door, that he has given you some space. 

“Please let me go, let me go. You can be free, you can move on, let me be.” you pleaded, looking up at him, your eyes flitting over his face looking for a sign, any sign that would indicate that he headed your prayer. You slowly focus on his eyes, looking within them, your breath hitches as all you see is a kindness so gut-wrenching it makes you feel physically sick. 

There is no malice, no pity, or any inclination that he will follow your word. All you see within his gaze is kindness, one of love and hope. You start to feel overwhelmed, having such a kind affectionate gaze homed in on you. You think back to all the times you caught his gaze; at balls, gatherings, when he would come to speak to you, when he came to visit today to ask to court you. You think about how there was no pity within his stare, no sympathy, no looks of “such a shame, one so young yet so ill,” none of that. 

You start to think about how you have brushed him off, how you have ignored him, at times even running away from him, too wrapped up in your melancholy to even look, actually look at how he was gazing at you, too scared to even admit that someone might even look at you within out an ounce of pity. 

You start to think about how you could allow this, the love and admiration of another person, how this could happen. Could this happen? Could you willingly put your anxieties aside and let someone in, could they be your rock, could they hold you when the pain becomes overwhelming, suffocating you, pulling you down into despair? 

Could you let him? As this question appears within your mind you feel a spark, like flint and rock smashing together, start within you. It is almost unnerving, unnatural. You have not felt this for an extraordinarily long time, almost losing belief that you could ever feel it again.

Hope. Hope that you could be loved and cherished, that you could have someone there for your bad days, as well as your good days where you could go for a walk or a carriage ride, where you could go to socials and visit family. 

This line of thought left you almost breathless, as you still stood within the drawing room of your home. Slightly pressed up against the door, with one of your hands behind your back on the handle as you were trying to escape…again. 

As this chaos was happening within your head, Benedict slowly brought his hand to your cheek, hesitating as if unsure if his action would cause you more pain than comfort. 

Pushing the feeling of guilt down, you take a leap of faith by slowly moving your head towards him, tilting it so your cheek rests within his palm. You flinch slightly, Benedict moving his band away from you, nervous that he might have caused you more anguish. Quickly you stop him, bringing your other hand to cage his, gently placing his hand back onto your face, cupping your cheek and jaw slightly through his hand.

“It…it did not hurt that much, I was just surprised is all” you whispered “It has been a very long time since anyone has held my face this way” You can feel your reserve beginning to crack, you pushed forward, that small spark of hope within you starting to burn brighter.

“It is quite lovely actually, I don’t have to use as much energy to hold my head up when it is being held for me” you ramble, trying to ease the tension and hopefully his nerves. 

“I see” he replies slowly, looking over you to make sure that his actions are not upsetting you in any way. Slowing analysing your features, sketching your appearance in his mind, unsure if he might get an opportunity to be this close to you again. 

Bringing his focus to your eyes he is startled at what he finds, hope. A small whisp of it, and while surrounded by what he can assume is anxieties and doubt, he is so certain that it is there. 

 “If you would let me” he continues “it would be an honour to hold your head for you if only for a moment, to provide but a small reprieve.” Realising that you are not stopping him from speaking, he continues.

“You are so extraordinarily strong, a remarkable person. Willing to take on so much and push through it all, despite the load you carry” he feels your head rest slightly more in his hand, seeing your eyes fluttering before you shut them for a moment. He is worried slightly that he might have messed up, saying something that pushed you down into the darkness rather than bringing you up into the light. However, as you open your eyes again, slowly raising your focus from his chest to his face, then to meet his gaze once more, he disregards his previous concern. He can see that spark burning ever so slightly brighter.

You gently pressed his hand between your own and your face, turning the latter into his palm so that your lips were ever so gently touching below his thumb. If he would be so bold he could move the digit with a feather-like touch across your cheek and wipe away any tear marks from earlier. 

“But you do not have to carry this load alone, I am not sacrificing my freedom wanting to be with you” parroting one of your earlier statements with earnestness.

“I am not sacrificing anything, I come forward willingly, I come to you after hearing about you and your life. I come to you as a willing partner if you would have me. Allow me to carry some of your load, let me hold your head and hands for you. Allow me the honour of holding you during your dark moments as well as your light.” 

“I want to be there for you, with you, I am not here out of pity, I am here out of admiration and love. I fear that if I loved you any less, I would be able to talk about it more, my heart is but a reflection of you.” He felt like he was rambling, struggling to find the words to convey his true feelings, how he was frazzled by you, in a way he had not been before. 

There was a pause and he started to doubt himself, his words, and his abilities before he saw a subtle movement from the outskirts of his vision.

As you looked into his eyes you could feel your grip on the door handle slipping, becoming less tense, less firm. Overcome with emotions from Benedict’s confession your hand goes limp, falling from the handle completely. 

As you stare into his eye you slowly bring now limp hand up towards his face, almost parallel to his still cupping onto your own. You move slowly, akin to a dazed animal who is wary of any sudden movements; as you reach, you settle your arm on his chest resting so that your palm now cups his jawbone. 

Benedict sees the movement, your hand dropping and moving up, towards him, he feels like he might faint, being able to touch you is one thing, but you, touching him is something he did not consider. He shuts his eyes, almost squeezing them closed not wanting to frighten you with how shocked he must look. 

When you finally rest your hand against his chest, he felt like his heart must have stopped beating, he froze, willing himself to take a breath, to steel himself before opening his eyes. 

For when he did, he was in awe, the spark that was once so dim, nearly stamped out was burning and it was burning bright. 

“Do you mean it?” you ask, voice shaking slightly.

“With my whole heart, with the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. I will be by your side till you are through with me, till I drive you mad, till we are grey and even then, I will still hold your head for you so you can rest for a while.” Benedict tries to convey every ounce of his emotions that he feels so you can be sure that you are fully aware of what he is experiencing. 

“I think I would like that” your reply is rushed. Not wanting to waste a moment, not letting it run away or hide. You finally made your choice, you would let hope win, you would lose the battle but win the war and your victory prize did not seem all that bad. 

[ciaomarie]

#NoStruggleLove

This JUST popped into my brain, and I got MAD, lol. In S3, Chris and Joana BETTER NOT make Sydney, Carmy's therapist and/or mother. I don't want her to "earn" his love by doing emotional labor. Yes, she bore too much during the renovation, but that was for HER dream as well. So far, she's been really good about maintaining her boundaries. She shares her emotions and backstory when she feels comfortable. She also allows Carmy to share his, while not burdening herself with his trauma. She holds him accountable and doesn't baby him, nor does she literally or metaphorically give him coochie. In short, she's not playing wifey with this messy man. It would be so easy to bc look at HIM.

I appreciate that so far their dynamic is actually pretty healthy. Yes, they hit a couple patches, but Carmy corrected himself quickly after the Brigade and the Review. In S2 he just didn't know how to juggle the restaurant and a love life. At the end of that season he realized that the partnership with Sydney and the restaurant matters more to him, albeit he took it too far in the freezer meltdown.

In the scene above we see CARMY initiating this conversation and offering Sydney emotional support and commitment, practically giving marital vows (eek!). In S10 before he got trapped in the freezer he helped her stay on expo and got Marcus away from her. There was his momentary lapse over the 7 Fishes getting cold (was that after he thought he saw his old EC?), but again he corrected quickly. Oh, why, oh why, didn't he call the freezer guy?!?! That first night could've been a glorious bonding event for him with Sydney and The Bear as a whole. But alas, we need the drama. Anyways, when he goes into Michelin Star mode in S3 I HOPE that Sydney doesn't bare the brunt of it. If she plays the long-suffering work wife, I'm going to be PISSED!! They like doing that to women generally and particularly women of color.

[falkarph]

DRAGON'S DOGMA 2 STARTERS

rp prompts taken from the video game dragon's dogma 2 by capcom. some have been edited.

❛ a good sleep will ensure we’re prepared for the morrow. ❜

❛ i shall go to the grave with a smile on my lips, for i have no regrets. ❜

❛ this is the second time i’ve watched over you like this, isn’t it? ❜

❛ as i understand it, 'tis boorish to speak when you’ve naught to say, so i shall hold my tongue. ❜

❛ we‘ll see each other again, you can count on that. and when we do, you’d best be ready for the fight of your life. ❜

❛ i had nearly given up on myself, yet 'twould seem i am not without talent after all! ❜

❛ i learned the words but this is the first i use them. ❜

❛ don't bring trouble to my door, you hear? ❜

❛ 'twas never my intent to deceive you. i simply feared that if i spoke the truth, none would wish to involve themselves with me. ❜

❛ i dare not enter the palace. but i would fain escort you to the castle entrance. ❜

❛ pray visit me if you’ve the time or inclination. ❜

❛ all is preordained. even my death at thy hands. ❜

❛ there’s no shortage of ne'er-do-wells out there, willing to claim their medicine the only cure that they might inflate its price. ❜

❛ what are you doing? unhand me this instant! ❜

❛ love is as twin to madness, they say. they are bound fast, as night is to day. ❜

❛ oh, unwring your hands, you fool. as if anyone in this palace would dare say a word against me. ❜

❛ i find myself on edge when you stray from my line of sight. ❜

❛ save your honeyed words, traitor! ❜

❛ you would leave one of your own to die? ❜

❛ my efforts led only to my own ruin. ❜

❛ i believe i cautioned you to keep your drunken revelry in check. ❜

❛ they say you should be thankful for your life, but simply being alive isn’t the same as living, eh? ❜

❛ 'tisn‘t the first time i’ve taught an unseasoned whelp the meaning of betrayal. ❜

❛ my vision’s growing worse by the day i fear. ❜

❛ if i had but better known your heart, i could have shared in your burdens. ❜

❛ 'tis not my conscience that called me here, oh no. i simply cannot stomach acts of cowardice. ❜

❛ doesn’t seem like you and i are going to share a drink anytime soon. a shame, really. ❜

❛ and what business have you here, in the nobles' playground? ❜

❛ we’re lost, plain and simple. ❜

❛ 'twould seem my time here has reached its end. can’t say i‘m happy about it. ❜

❛ i possess no ill intent, i assure you! i merely wished for a closer look. ❜

❛ alas, though he was a just and goodly ruler, there is not a single person alive who remembers his name. ❜

❛ it can be a blessing to forget—and to be forgotten. ❜

❛ the flesh may rot, the soul, fragment. yet power—power endures. ❜

❛ no one has any care for me beyond my title. ❜

❛ another dogged adventurer, come to take my life? many have tried, and, as you can plainly see, all have failed. ❜

❛ naught can be achieved without sacrifice. ❜

❛ follow me. and, pray, take care not to fall behind. one can easily lose their way here. ❜

❛ if e'er you’re in need of a hearth to return to … then let it be mine. ❜

❛ i may be past my prime as a fighter—but i can still teach. ❜

❛ s‘pose it must make you feel a hero, seeing the person you caught yourself sitting behind bars. ❜

❛ do you think you can exact change in this world through good will alone? ❜

❛ reckon your road‘s been a long one. ❜

❛ i so hoped you’d visit. is that strange? ❜

❛ such knowledge has been known to cost a man his head. ❜

❛ shall we hunt a few monsters to start the day off? ❜

❛ the world shall not change with my death. ❜

❛ wilt thou slay me, or be slain? ❜

❛ 'twas all a farce and i the fool, exulting in my wooden crown. ❜

❛ do as you will. i care not what befalls me now. ❜

❛ i never knew how vast the sky was ere i left home. ❜

[valcetious]

"𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬𝑺."

pairing: childe x reader

tags: toxic relationship, manipulation, delusional thinking, implied abuse, implied entrapment, romanticised physical harm, reference to death

w/c: 1349

a/n: the themes of this fic are a tad, uhhh… questionable. i like to indulge in the fucked up characterisation ideas in my head sometimes, so here we are. tartaglia is obviously my victim for this because of reasons that i do not believe need further explaining lmfaooo. author has bpd so there’s lots of undertones of that, my bad y’all. heed the tags!

translations: милый (miliy) = “dear”, “darling” [gn] // любимый (lyubimyy) = “beloved” [masc]

“it didn’t matter that he was a wolf behind the guise of a sheep. it didn’t matter that he hunted you from the shadows. for you, the lamb, were willing no matter the consequences – for you all are sick creatures.”

childe was many things. many contradicting things. as were you.

maybe that’s why it was so easy to find yourselves entangled with each other - unable to tear yourselves apart. lost amongst each other.

you didn’t mind, truly. you were content to be lost amongst him of all people. he was your everything. the reason your heart beat, the reason your lungs filled with oxygen, the reason your eyes could see. he was everything.

nothing would change that, ever. nothing could sully this idolised view of him. nothing could ever erase him. he was a form of unattainable perfection – the epitome of all things right in this world of deluded views.

maybe if life had been kinder to you, you never would never have found solace in him. maybe, if life had shown you true love, you would have seen the truth behind what you perceived to be love. but alas; life was not kind, nor had it shown you true love.

and so, when kindness and love is devoid – it’s easy to find yourself falling for what your brain believes you deserve. you begin to break yourself down and rebuild yourself. piece by piece, block by block, you become an entity different from what you first came to this world as. you rebirth your soul, telling yourself that this life, this life of instability and pain, is the only constant you will ever have. and over time, you develop a certain view of life and love. you develop a certain attachment to people. one that consumes your entire being – an attachment that poisons everything it touches.

like a moth to a flame, you remember so clearly the first time your eyes fell upon him. it was as if he demanded your gaze, an indescribable force pulling you towards him. he looked back at you, or maybe through you. you weren’t sure. you can recall the shivers that went down your spine, his gaze strong and steadfast.

he was the enemy. at least, supposed to be. no enemy should shine as brightly as he did, you thought.

you remember so clearly the first time you saw that look in his eyes. the one that gazed at you as if you were the most desirable thing in the world.

in that moment, his hands were wrapped around your throat, a sickening grin on his face. despite the feral madness he wore, somehow, he seemed like a work of art. so strong, determined, passionate. and yet, he was going to kill you, you were the enemy. of course he was going to kill you. but the panic that should’ve been filling your body simply ceased to exist. no alarms bells. no warnings symbols. just a single, floating thought.

he was beautiful.

the weight of his hands around your throat seemed to be less of a burden at that realisation. it was almost as if it morphed into a comfort - something to remind you of how fragile you were under his fingers. maybe that thought should’ve disturbed you, but it didn’t. instead, you felt some sort of satisfaction.

some sort of purpose arising at the concept of being discarded by him.

the way his eyes searched yours left you feeling oddly charmed – his attention focused on you and you only. his orbs were dull, as if he were dead inside; funny, considering he had such a disarming smile. you looked over his face, really looking this time. he truly was beautiful, physically too.

you remember the way his fingers loosened around your neck after a moment, his orbs darkening as he smiled. though this smile wasn’t the same grin of sadistic pleasure he had previously worn. he seemed almost pleased, as if you were some sort of treasure that he’d been searching for all his life.

“you’re perfect.”

in childe, you found purpose. he loved you. he did. and you loved him. madly so.

and that was precisely the problem. you loved each other. too much.

you loved each other so much that pain and suffering were synonymous with love. you loved each other so much that not even death would do you apart. and childe knew this. he knew this all too well.

childe knew you were irrevocably his. knew that no matter what would happen, you would never run. you were simply his. his to have forever. his to keep, to own, to have. and he would have all of you. your body, your mind, your thoughts, your actions. all of it would be belonging to him, and him only. he would make sure of it, no matter the cost.

perhaps you should’ve known better. maybe part of you did know better. but did any of that matter? did any of it really matter? the world without childe was dark, threatening, consuming. everything was horrible — until him. he arrived and suddenly, things seemed to take shape. a sense of self started to emerge.

and yet, it was hardly a sense of self; rather a collection of delusional ideas that were fed and tended to by the one you fixated upon. you had fooled yourself into thinking it was you.

but see, there was some simplicity in losing your mind.

there was peace in indulgence of your delusional thoughts.

it was sick — you were sick. and you could not be treated — this sickness rotted you from the inside out. no amount of medicine or healing would quell your soul of this darkness.

“милый,” the harbinger purred, a blood-stained hand wiping a tear from your cheek, “you’re so pretty when you cry.”

you trembled underneath his touch, the pain from your abdomen flaring up throughout your whole body. and yet - the pain was nothing compared to that adoration in childe’s eyes. a whimper escaped your lips as you shifted, and the harbinger cooed. it was a soft, sweet sound. like a parent hushing their young. a bloody finger pressed against your lips, a sickeningly sweet smile painted upon his features.

“shhh, you’re doing so well for me,” childe murmured, pressing a kiss to your exposed collarbones.

your eyes flicker to childe’s right hand, catching the glint of the dagger in the moonlight. stained in your blood, and your blood only. a special dagger, just for you, as childe had described it. your eyes trail back to his face. his eyes watched you with so much curiosity, it made you feel so bare under his gaze; as if he were peering into the deepest parts of you. his gaze aligned with yours, his empty eyes boring holes into you. despite the dullness, there was a glint of passion burning within them.

he revelled in your pain. and you loved it.

you loved him.

“would you die for me, милый?” childe’s voice questioned, the hand that sat upon the back of your neck tightening with his words.

“without a second thought, любимый,” you had replied, eyes sliding shut at the pressure of childe’s fingers.

you didn’t need to think about the answer. you knew without childe, you were lost. death was a sweeter release than a world without him. you couldn’t live without childe. it was impossible. you couldn’t let him go. he was worth the cost of everything.

the red-head hummed, a satisfied look on his face. you were so perfect – truly. no other soul so blindly loved him in the way you did. no other soul had ever come close to the sickness within him. until you.

that lovestruck look in yours eyes when he would hurt you only proved your loyalty.

and he was determined to keep that loyalty. even if it meant destroying you and rebuilding you all over again, by his hands only.

no other would ever come close to you.

you were a sick creature, as was he.

you were made for no one but him.

© valcetious, cross-posted on ao3.

requests currently open!

[thefiery-phoenix]

Hi. English is not my first language so I'm sorry if I make grammatical mistakes. I read almost all of the marvel and viral hit series and had a lot of fun. The things you wrote are very nice. Could you please write yandere young seong hansu x reader? If you don't want to write, feel free to ignore it.

You know what, sure and thank you so much for liking my work, I really appreciate it

Hansu seong as a romantic yandere? It would be a blessing for you and a damn nightmare for the other people around you. We all know Hansu was the poster boy and the epitome of bad boy behavior, his son Taehun doesn't even match the rebellious things he used to do when he was younger. However he genuinely loves you and cares for you, too much rather to the point that he's willing to kill people for even looking at you for a second too long for his liking

Despite his stoic tough exterior he's a soft man at heart when it comes to you. He just wants to come home to you after a long day and melt into your gentle loving touch as he wraps his arms around you shielding you from the harsh realities and cruelty of the world. He's endured a lot and he'd rather burst a blood vessel than let you go through the same pain and burden as him. All he wants to do is just shower you with his love and affection keeping you safe from all those scumbags who dare to take advantage of you. He's had a lot of experience already so he's kind of justified with wanting to protect you and keep you safe, even if he has to wrap you up in silk and keep you all for himself that is

Hansu didn't undergo all that brutal and harsh training with his teacher for nothing you know. There's a reason even his friends Kim and Jincheol are a bit scared of him secretly, he's known to be a walking time bomb when he's enraged and coming from THOSE two, that's actually saying something. Alas, it's not like you'll be able to ask them for help either, they just want to see their dear friend happy with you and will do whatever the hell it takes to ensure that you remain with Hansu. So, congratulations, you also have two more soldiers with insane kill ratios and years and years of war history after you who're platonic yanderes for you now. Escape? From Hansu? Oh, you poor sweet innocent little one, how naive you are if you think you'll be able to escape from someone like Hansu. Clearly, you have no idea the extreme lengths he'll go through to get you back safely in his arms and when he does find you, he won't be too amused about the whole situation

Like I've said before, he values your safety and prioritizes it a lot. The idea of you being somewhere without him, your man, to protect you is enough to send him into a spiral of worry for you with his over protective tendencies skyrocketing through the roof even more if that's possible. He won't yell at you or anything nor will he ever hit you, he doesn't believe in hurting the one he loves. He'll just firmly tell you with a stern expression to never do such a thing again, it's like a parent scolding a child but don't worry, he'll shower you with lots of love and affection later on. He can't afford to be mad or angry at you at all, he loves you too much and before you know it, you'll be on his lap cuddling him while he wraps his around your waist possessively ensuring you'd never leave him. Oh, but don't think you're off the hook yet, he'll baby proof the whole house and lock the windows and doors and hide the key somewhere and there'll be a few secret cameras here and there without your knowledge of course, to keep an eye on you to make sure you're safe

I want to be sympathetic to the person who's trying to take you away from Hansu but honestly, they should just know better. If Hansu's icy cold glare isn't enough to send the other person running in the opposite direction screaming with fear, he'll have to get physical. We all know what happens when Hansu gets mad and gets physical, he's not above killing the other person like I've mentioned before. The only person he cares for and lives for is you, so if someone takes away the very reason he's alive, he feels like someone's ripping his heart out. You're his everything, his heart and his soul. No way he'd ever allow someone to lay their filthy hands on you, they better be praying to all the gods above and hope the fates are kind enough to ensure they won't get murdered or brutally attacked by a livid raging Hansu and wake up the next day in a hospital room. Actually, scratch that, they should be praying he even leaves them ALIVE in the first place

Of course, Sir Cho Pyunggyeon would know about you being Hansu's darling and he's amused that the stoic Taekwando obsessed boy who showed up at his bar years ago finally found someone for himself and honestly, he's impressed and amused. Oh, which reminds me, unless you want a whole freaking mafia group after you if you ever try leaving Hansu because Sir Cho will obviously come to his aid, don't try escaping Hansu. He just wants to love you that's all. Hansu would treat you like a precious fragile doll about to break at any second, he's so gentle and caring and kind towards you, you'll almost forget he literally kidnapped you

He can't bear to see you crying or scared or upset, you're his precious darling after all and seeing you in any kind of discomfort hurts his heart. He doesn't mean to be controlling and stern all the time but this one time he caught you reading a gory and dark and gruesome murder novel and his eyes narrowed at you as he demanded to know what you were reading. His jaw clenched as his fists clenched shut tightly that his knuckles became white. You could literally see his angry veins protruding and bursting from his fists however he forced a smile and gently took the book away from you as he tried to distract you with something else. Later on when you went to get back to the book, you found a pile of ash sitting where the book previously used to be there as you looked at Hansu in suspicion who just looked proud at what he'd done with no ounce of remorse or regret on his face. "Hansu...you're not supposed to burn books like this, they're an epitome of knowledge, it's wrong... and besides, I didn't even make it past the first chapter anyway and it was listed as a best seller" you pouted and looked at Hansu reproachfully. Hansu pulled you onto his lap as he looked at you with a love sick obsessive gleam of love glinting in his eyes as he gently caressed your cheeks and softly but firmly replied "This is for your own good my love... I will not have my sweet darling get corrupted by such dark and negative thoughts and acts like this. I don't want your innocent pure mind to be tainted by such dark material like this which will only make you sad and it hurts my heart to see you sad....'' as he kissed your lips softly and passionately

You're going to be babied and spoiled by him. He won't allow you to miss out on any meals and will ensure you follow a strict bedtime and sleep on time. With him, on the bed as you're in his arms, right where you belong. One stern look from him is enough to make you swallow down your protests. Oh, you won't be allowed to cook in the kitchen either, it's off limits for you since he's worried you'll hurt yourself but don't worry, Hansu can take good care of you and whip up some delicious meals for the two of you. Starving yourself isn't an option of course, he'd literally tie you down and make you sit on his lap and feed you and yes, he has done this before and isn't above doing this again, it's a matter of your health and well being after all

He knows you weren't too happy when he literally kidnapped you and you were angry and scared and honestly, he doesn't blame you for your feelings. He'd never hurt you or be mad at you whenever you screamed at him or just threw things at him demanding to be set free, he gets how you feel. However he loves you too much to let you go, he'd rather walk through hell than ever let you be in the arms of someone else other than him, your rightful husband. He knows and he's certain you'll love him one day just as much as he loves you, he's confident in it and when you finally do admit your feelings, he'll be over the moon with happiness and pure joy. He's such a soft man only for you though...you're his world and his heart, he'd do anything to keep you safe, you're HIS after all....

[jinitak]

This scene is lowkey kinda sad ngl

(This post is a rant)

Context: Thai law still doesn't recognise same-sex marriage, legal gender change, LGBTQIA+ people still don't have the same rights as cisgender heterosexual people.

This scene really resonates with me, the latest attempt at trying to amend the civil code to enshrine marriage equality via court ruling was done by a lesbian couple in 2019.

The fact that we're still fighting for marriage equality here probably is a testament to how conservative the Thai ruling class is. In their decision, the court argues that

Marriage is a union for reproduction -By this logic, people who were castrated or women on birth control should not be able to marry but alas they can. It's not a valid point.

Marriage equality would be a burden to heterosexual couples due to paperwork for welfare and other services -It's not the fucking job of the court to decide that.

Marriage equality would lead LGBTQIA+ people to marry for the welfare (?) -Marrying for welfare is already illegal

Civil Partnership bill has already been introduced -It doesn't give equal rights to LGBTQIA+ couples.

BTW, I was mad in a mall that day reading the ruling, they were so fucking homophobic, it's hate speech. They had shit like only men and women in the world, LGBTQIA+ people are unnatural, that kind of bullshit.

This makes me sad and mad in a way, my mind while watching wandered off and thought about how his mothers would be able to see each other if they were to get admitted to a hospital, how will they be able to build a life together if they couldn't get a mortgage or other types of loans, how would their welfare benefits work, etc.

It angers me that 9 old near dead people who could've decided that people like Mew's mothers could be able to live a life with as much rights and dignity as their heterosexual counterparts but they decided to spew shit from their mouths that is so disgusting, they should not be able to talk again.

Every time I see this kind of scenes it gives me hope that LGBTQIA+ relationships that are not just 2 young men in love would be shed a light on but on the other hand it angers and sadden me to the tenth degree that Thai society still doesn't have a place for them.

[g-witchsulettaneedsahug]

Alright I've seen this take plenty of times now and I feel like some of y'all are honestly kinda straight up loco.

Suletta Mercury is not and never has been anything even resembling to brainwashed at any point in this series. I repeat, Suletta is NOT brainwashed. She never has been and seeing so many of you all projecting your own woefully unnuanced moral compasses upon the characters in this show is honestly painful to watch.

If you bothered to read Cradle Planet, the short story related to G:WfM, one of the main things that would become clear to you is that Suletta was raised in isolation. Specifically she was isolated from other kids her age.

This wasn't done on purpose by Prospera to raise her to be the perfect little pawn for her plans y'all, thats so fucking stupid. At this point its clear that while Prospera likely favours Aerial when it comes to securing a future for one of her children, she has never shown at any point that she saw Suletta as something to be disposed of in the sense of killing her. Her belief in the ideals of the Vanadís Institute and her hatred for the misuse of the GUND-format, along with her love for Eri would make it thematically utter fucking madness for her not to love or be fond of Suletta.

The short story and Eri talking about the past in the anime shows that Prospera treated Suletta the best she could, along with Suletta being familiar with various forms of media that likely show the importance of love and kindness, such as reading/watching about highschool and stuff from Earth Sphere media such as mentioned in the short story.

How Suletta behaves at the school and how comfortable she is to interact and look for her mother for comfort shows that Prospera did not hurt Suletta for being vulnerable with her and that she supported her daughter when she was young. Aerial mentions that Suletta at 6 years old only came to her for comfort when she was scared if Prospera was busy with work, implying that Prospera was otherwise most of the time present when Suletta was young.

The reason why Suletta is so shy and uncertain as she was is because of the people on Mercury. The people who lived there did not trust Prospera and by extension Suletta. They were seen as potential liabilities. Aerial recounts that they wanted Prospera and Suletta to be send away. Children are extremely observant and absorb this kind of bullshit, so at a young age Suletta basically internalised the message that she's unwanted and a burden. THIS the the major trauma that makes Suletta as socially incompetent as she is.

Aerial mentions how Suletta's infamous catchphrase about gaining 2 if moving forward was a response to trying to make Suletta be brave about getting a shot. In other words TOTALLY FUCKING NORMAL MOM BEHAVIOUR. Prospera explained that while Suletta could gain 1 by not getting a shot and avoiding pain, but that by getting the shot she could gain 2 by not becoming sick in the future and to be seen as amazing by the people on Mercury.

This is Prospera, explaining to her young daughter, that sometimes you need to be a little brave in order to succeed in your goals or to live a happy and healthy life. You need to do something you might be afraid of or be a little uncomfortable with in order to gain somethings benefits. Thats not fucking evil and if you think that teaching a scared child to be brave to prepare for future is evil manipulation then I fear for your mental faculties.

Suletta internalized this phrase, using it as a source of comfort. Whenever she's scared or afraid but knows that something needs to be done. Its NOT a fucking trigger phrase ala Winter Soldier, thanks.

When Prospera justified the deaths of those terrorists, she was speaking from the perspective of a survivor. Literally all her collegues, friends and even her husband perished in the attack from Dominicus under the command of Cathedra. At our most basic, humans simply wish to survive and if you have to kill others to do so then so be it.

Suletta's "strange" behaviour after that isn't her being brainwashed, its her being in a stressful situation and compartimentalizing on the fly. Millions of people behave strangely or as if nothing is wrong in high stress situations because they're literally working on default. There is no time to think about ethics or morality when you or someone who you love is under attack, there is only panic and making split second decisions that you can only pray you will not regret in the future.

Thats also not to say that Suletta doesn't know or wasn't raised in a way that held life in high esteem. On Mercury she was the primary person responsible for emergency rescue operations with the Aerial, piloting and controlling the Aerial herself in order to save people, who often were rude and mean and were likely unkind to her in childhood. You think she'd do that if she didn't think human life was worth something? Or be as kind and friendly as she is?

Suletta is a kind, hopeful young girl with humble if ambitious plans for the future, who does not wish pain or loneliness upon other people. She isn't an "I suffered so why shouldn't you?" person, she's an "I suffered and I don't want you to suffer too" person.

Suletta was raised to be kind, to be honest, to survive and to do her best. She's not brainwashed she's doing her best. She's not evil she's doing her best. She laughs and cries and is anxious and happy. She's a gentle person who pushes on to do her best anyway, even if she's scared.

So get off of y'alls high horses and "Suletta is brainwashed/is gonna snap and kill a bunch of people" bullshit. Prospera didn't raise a weapon, she raised a daughter and capable Pilot who can survive on her own even once she no longer needed her to raise Aerial's Permet score. She raised a gentle girl who did her best.

Suletta deserves better and I can only hope that Earth House continues to support her. Y'all need to have more faith in her as the heroic gundam protagonist she is, she's not a shonen hero who takes no lives personally ever.

Suletta is capable and strong and you all better remember it.

[sawyer-is-not-my-name]

Luke Castellan x unclaimed son of Apollo

You sat next to Luke by the fire, a frown ever so present on your face. You had been at camp for 2 years now, and your father still had yet to claim you, meaning you were still in the Hermes cabin. You couldn't help but resent the guy. Whoever he was must of been a dickhead, to keep you here feeling unwanted. You felt Luke's hand on your shoulder gently rubbing it, helping to comfort you.

" You alright?" He asked concern lacing his voice, you just frowned before getting up and heading back to the Hermes cabin. You thought maybe just maybe tonight would be the night, you'd be claimed by your godly parent, and maybe you wouldn't feel so unwanted but alas that didn't seem to be happening. You sat down on your bed, it wasn't even really your bed. It was just a spare, that wasn't taken by a claimed Hermes kid.

Frustration and anger just seemed to boil up inside of you, causing you to throw one of your notebooks. It was the one you had filled with poetry, sketches, and lyrics really anything that came to mind that was an art went there. You were almost certain of who your godly father was. Hence why you had so many skills, but part of you resented the god. Why couldn't he just claim you, he claimed so many other of his kids. Why not you?

You threw another book at the wall, you weren't really thinking any more you were just mad, and now you didn't care what of yours you threw.

------------

Luke cautiously approached the cabin, he could hear something being thrown but he wasn't to sure what it was. He carefully opened the door, finally seeing what had happened. You broke, tears streaming down your face, your fists clenched as you finally curled up into a ball.

"Hey, hey it's okay" Luke gently approached you, sitting on the floor, "is it okay if I touch you?" You nodded as you moved closer to him. Your head resting on his chest, "I just- I don't understand... It's obvious who my dad is, and I just... I don't understand why he claims so many of my siblings, but not me. Am I just not good enough?" Luke interrupted you "No, you are enough. I don't know why Apollo hasn't claimed you yet, but trust me you are enough." He stroked your hair lightly, as he pulled you closer to him.

He looked like he wanted to say something right as he went to open his mouth, you were claimed. Your godly parent claimed you, as if protecting you from what they might say.

------------

You both took a moment and then walked out of the cabin your belonging in your hand as you walked toward your new cabin the claiming still making itself evident, as if to make sure you couldn't spend more time near the Hermes cabin. You were met at the door by Lee Fletcher, who smiled at you and welcomed you in. You were met with kind smiles, no one here seemed to have a reason not to welcome you in, and it felt safe.

You hugged look, bidding him goodnight as he smiled at you. "I'm happy for you y/n" you smiled at him, before getting whisked away into the cabin. It was nice to finally get a bunk to yourself, but part of you wondered why your dad waited until that moment. What was Luke gonna say. He never even tried to say it again after that.

---------

It didn't hit you till a few years later, that your father had been protecting you from Luke. He knew the path you could have been lead down, and he had to prevent it however he could. And that was holding out on claiming you, and waiting until very last moment to change your fate. He knew he wasn't supposed to try and changes the fates but he had to try. He wouldn't let you go down that path.

No matter how much trouble it got him into, he still loved you. It's wasn't that you were an unwanted burden, he just had to make sure Luke didn't feel like he could speak to you about his resentment of the gods. He had to protect you from joining Luke in any way he could. Even if it made you resent him for a fraction of time. He could make up for the unwanted feeling he gave you, but he couldn't forgive himself if he let you join the wrong side.

----

I actually really like this :)

[enlitment]

Top 5 lines written by Catullus!

Thank you for the ask (and for indulging me!). I may stretch the definition of what can realistically be considered 'a line' a bit, but it's for the sake of context, I promise!

C 31: Sirmio

O what freedom from care is more joyful/ than when the mind lays down its burden/and weary, back home from foreign toil/ we rest in the bed we longed for?

This one is just incredibly relatable for anyone coming back home from any long trip! It is just as true now as it was more than 2000 years ago.

2: C 99: Stolen Kisses: to Iuventius

you have handed wretched me over to spiteful Love/nor have you ceased to torture me in every way/so that for me that kiss is now changed from ambrosia/to be harsher than harsh hellebore

I've included this line mostly because I love the contrast between ambrosia and hellebore. I also think that there is something powerful and effective about taste metaphors, yet I don't see them used very often. Here, it manages to beautifully illustrate poor Catullus' feelings in this particular situation! (Though obviously, you shouldn't go on kissing people out of the blue. That's kind of on him.)

Poor Catullus, getting rejected by both women and men, left and right

3. Attis

So, rapidly, from sweet dream and free of madness/ Attis recollected his actions in his thoughts/ and saw with a clear heart what and where he had been/ turning again with passionate mind to the sea.

Nothing like the pain of the morning after, am I right?

In all seriousness, all of Attis is amazing. The language (even the translations, I sadly cannot appreciate the original), the imagery, the links to mythology, it's all so beautiful. It's also such a rich area for analysis - I've thought about it a lot, but I'm sure if barely scracthed the surface at this point.

I personally see it as an expression of the fear of emasculation that comes with being deeply obsessed with a female lover (as he was with Lesbia)? I cannot claim any expertise beside having read all of his work and knowing some of the context of his life + the Roman views on masculinity. I've also read a few opinions of people arguing for a possible trans reading, which is incredibly interesting as well.

4. C 9: Back from Spain: To Veranius

You’re back. O happy news for me!/ I’ll see you safe and sound and listen/ to your tales of Spanish places that you’ve done/ and tribes, as is your custom, and/ hang about your neck, and kiss/ your lovely mouth and eyes

I don't know, just something about him expressing such genuine joy about being reunited with his friend seems incredibly sweet. (Also introduces the idea of kissing someone on the eyes which. Um. Seems to be an ongoing thing for Catullus. Sure, you do you.)

5. C 64: Epithalamium for Peleus and Thetis

The Minoan girl goes on gazing at the distance/ with mournful eyes, like the statue of a Bacchante/ gazes, alas, and swells with great waves of sorrow

Again, I just love the whole poem. It is probably my favourite Catullus poem (along with C 50, but they have very different vibes). I find it fascinating that a male poet can empathise so much with the female perspective (which is a bit of an ongoing theme in his poetry). I cannot help but think that he must have personally related to Ariadne's pain, being rejected by his former lover - Lesbia - like she was by Theseus. It would certainly help to explain how he was able to portray her state of mind with such incredible depth and complexity.

I also adore the beauty of the language and the many references to Greek mythology of course.

[team7-headquarter]

Quick interpretation of the Land of Iron arc and Sakura's role in it:

I won't use images this time, but you can go and check my interpretation against the arc to see if it clicks for you or not. It's a possible reading, not an absolute. I don't claim this is the only way to see the arc, understood?

I've seen a lot of people mocking Sakura for her choices in those chapters. From declaring fake love to Naruto, poisoning her team and going after Sasuke alone, to facing him again when Kakashi told her to stay back, etc.

It's not my favorite arc and I have many points I often criticize about it, but right now I'm putting my biased view away to properly read into it.

First point: It's not about romance anymore.

It'd be easy to read it that way. There's Sakura's love declaration, Naruto's own words (she loves him, she would never do it), Karin's thoughts on how Sakura loves/likes Sasuke too, etc.

The problem is that if it was about romance, things would be easier. Instead, we have a war context where Sakura knows there's people after Naruto, they're about to enter an internal conflict, Sasuke is being chased by all types of shinobis and all nations, her own friends agree with going after him, Tsunade is in coma, etc.

It's a breakdown that's been building up since the last chapters of the Classic, where Sakura decided to pretend she was okay about Sasuke not being back because she didn't want to hurt Naruto anymore. Her worry grows when Chiyo tells her about the Akatsuki being after the jinchurikis, Naruto included. When they go to confront Orochimaru, Sakura runs to Naruto after seeing him losing control, hurting.

The story sets her to decide between saving Naruto or Sasuke. The choice is apparent, since we the readers know there are many options, but it doesn't mean it is any less real for Sakura. We trust Naruto has the alternative, a way of saving Sasuke without killing him, or at least we trusted in him back then. Sakura, who was in one of her worst times, felt compelled to do something to protect the people she loved and in her desperation, rushed to make her mistake.

Many mistakes.

It's not Sakura's place to be the perfect heroine. It's her burden tho: to break under the social pressure, doubt her own gut instinct and follow what she thinks is "the right thing". Everyone tells her Sasuke is too far gone, that he's only gonna cause more pain. She sees how it hurts Naruto and she "knows" her hope in Sasuke is part of the weight in Naruto's shoulders.

If it was about who she liked better, Sakura wouldn't have betrayed both of them. Either her confession to Naruto would have been real or she would have taken Sasuke's side. Even if her love was biased (and it was), we know that it is not enough to make her waver on her own beliefs. She doesn't follow Naruto or Sasuke's wishes or orders.

This is about her character. Her own moment.

She thinks "I need to put Naruto somewhere safe and I need to kill Sasuke before he falls deeper into his madness/darkness". So much is true. Is it selfish? Certainly. She doesn't want to see the boys she loves destroyed. She doesn't want to see them dead, and that's why she is unable to kill Sasuke. She doesn't want to see them become a monster, the reason why she ran to them both when the cursed mark took over Sasuke and the kyubi chakra took over Naruto.

It is selfish, but not more than the actions of her teammates. She is not worse or better than them at the moment. Just different.

Second point: reflection and distortion.

Everyone was selfish in that arc, or do you really think any of them was sacrificing what they really wanted in order to benefit others?

Naruto wanted Sasuke alive and he was not giving up. He is selfless in many things, but not when it comes to Sasuke. He was not allowing them to kill him, that wouldn't happen.

Sasuke had his goal and his life and he was not giving those up in order to make Team 7 happy. Alas, I don't mean it as in he should had done it because no, Sasuke shouldn't have to give up his life for them when they couldn't really get why he was doing all he was doing. It was not his job to make them understand either, but it is a fact he was being selfish.

To make it clear, being selfish here is not a bad thing necessarily. Very human, but not morally black in all senses.

Kakashi was willing to kill Sasuke himself for selfish reasons too. He didn't want Sasuke to keep committing crimes, he didn't want it to be Sakura who killed him (or got killed by trying), he didn't want Naruto either to do it —he was also a very good Konoha nin.

And Sakura refused to let Kakashi carry that burden alone. She didn't want Naruto either to be the only one always chasing after Sasuke (she would later get why only Naruto could do it, no matter how hard the others tried). And she didn't want Sasuke to continue changing, but was also unable to stop him from doing so.

Naruto even told Sasuke he would die with him if necessary. That's a selfish wish. Fuck the rest of the world, I'll go with you to death if I can't bring you back with me.

For the shippers of one or other pairing, there is plenty of food in this arc. It's not much about romance as it is about shapeless devotion.

It was a circle of not wanting to lose the other or wanting to lose the other (in Sasuke's case) because he knew how powerful the grief would be —and don't get me started on how hatred and love are intertwined with the Uchihas.

So when it comes to Sakura, although she is not the exception, she receives a lot of hate for her actions. The core of her actions are not any different from Naruto's or Sasuke's or Kakashi's. The only differences are that she is represented as the love interest of both Sasuke and Naruto, that she's a girl, that her power doesn't consist of flashy techniques and that her themes are expressed almost in a cliché "girly" way.

You don't have to like her, you don't even have to say why you don't like her, but at least hate her for canon flaws or traits or acknowledge the fact you would love her if she was a male character. It's not that hard.

Final point: Consequences

Whenever you face the challenge of reading an arc correctly, ask yourself "how does this move the plot? how does this affect the characters in terms of evolving or regressing them? given the themes of the manga, how does this resonate with them? what is the purpose of these acts?"

For Sakura:

( A ) It shows us how much she cares about Naruto and how much Naruto cares back.

Her bad actions were rooted in good intentions and despair. This arc shows us that she's willing to make herself a tool, a weapon, if it could guarantee Naruto's safety or happiness. She basically offers herself to be used without thinking how she's insulting the others with it. She starts acting the way she thinks others want her to act. This arc somehow regresses her to her genin days, when she was trying to be someone she was not. That's what Naruto points out, what he hates the most. She is hurting herself and him by pretending, by lying to herself and him. She betrays Naruto and Sasuke while simultaneously failing at doing so.

She loves them, maybe not in the ways they wish she could love them, but that's who she is and that's how she feels. She cannot force any one to change their minds, she can't control their decisions and it's not worth it fading away, trying to do so. In that arc, Naruto is the one who's emotionally mature about it. He doesn't stop loving Sakura, the way he doesn't stop loving Sasuke. They might be lost, but that's okay, he got them.

( B ) It solidifies Kakashi and Sakura's dynamic.

This arc gives us an overdue apology from Kakashi, who acknowledges that he failed his team. To Sakura he regrets covering the issues with a smile, lying to her while saying that it all would be okay. Sakura didn't trust anyone to go with her, which he recognizes too. He wants to shoulder her burdens, make up for her for his shortcomings and mistakes. Of course, the arc also gives us a bunch of parallels between Rin and Sakura, even throwing some Haku and Zabuza parallels in there. And of course, it's not all about Sakura. Kakashi also knows he failed Sasuke, but knows they are past amending things like he could do with Sakura.

On the other hand, Sakura refuses to allow Kakashi to carry what should be their burden. She spent all her Gemini days letting others fight for her. She's not that kid anymore, even when it means she could get killed. Thing is, Sakura has no way of knowing how much her death would traumatize Kakashi and she's not the type to normally notice just how much she means to others.

( C ) It addresses the state of her affection for Sasuke —and served as a frame to show how lost Sasuke is.

Lost doesn't mean confuses (although he was). In this case, lost means that Sasuke was deep in trauma. He was being heavily manipulated, he was abusing his body beyond his limits, he was a mess. He was hurting.

If we guide ourselves by the manga moment when he was the most open and honest, he'd deeply regret all he did to Sakura. There's no way of knowing what killing her would do to him, but the previous instances of such events tended towards total madness. Naruto saved them all by saving Sakura that day.

On Sakura's side, well, she never stopped loving him, caring, she couldn't. We saw her ugly lie to Naruto's face, we saw how she POISONED her teammates, she did many wrong things and didn't falter. Kill Sasuke? She could not. Her hands wouldn't obey her. She's not the type to not do a stupid thing because she's afraid (after all, Kakashi had to physically stop her multiple times during the Kaguya fight because she was gonna get herself killed, c'mon). She couldn't kill him because her affection was genuine and deep rooted within her. It's a line she couldn't, wouldn't cross.

( D ) It sets her as her own character, capable of making her own choices and mistakes.

Sakura was never meant to be an angelic type of girl, silent and uncomplicated. She was also not meant to be all hardedged, mean and evil. She's not a damsel, neither a #GirlPower girl.

Sakura makes mistakes, has friends willing to help them through the consequences, and then she grows. They are patient with her because she's been there for them too. They are not perfect either. It's not the first, not the last time a shinobi would do something wrong or dumb out of love, pride, desperation, who knows.

Didn't Tsunade poison Jiraiya too to go after Orochimaru? Sasuke and Naruto spend years chasing each other and humiliating each other for the sake of their bonds. Hinata went to fight Pain all alone. Rock Lee almost lost his legs. Rin made Kakashi kill her. Kakashi failed his genin team. Obito was ready to destroy change the world. So was Madara. Minato sealed Kurama in Naruto. And on and on and on.

Sakura's actions during the Land of Iron arc might feel more cringe for some people, but it's just that, a feeling. Why? Maybe the problem is in the romance aspect of it all, badly portrayed as it was. Maybe it's because some girlish acts make people feel more naturally ashamed. Or it's because people see their own mistakes or shortcomings reflected in there.

Whatever it is, it's okay to hate it or don't like it, like I said in some paragraph before. Still, when it's time to properly interpret the story, you can't let those feelings cloud your thinking.

I know I said it was a quick interpretation and it really is. Any other day, I'd have pulled s bunch of manga panels to prove my point. But for now, it must be the (still undiagnosed) ADHD talking.

Hope you guys like it!

[nevertheless-moving]

i very much enjoyed the eventual explanation for Vin's Whole Deal but i also spent a good chunk of book one and two, (and maybe also more than a few idle moments in book three) waiting for a reveal that she was also a feruchemist. Just. There were so many parallels between her and the lord ruler, you know??

just thinking about the au...

a nice alternate explanation to her unnatural-even-for-a-mistborn grace, strength and power, just a bit better than she should be, and has such wild swings of fortune during a few of her fights because she's unconsciously storing up than releasing corresponding powers in her internal flakes.

of course it's taking her so long to realize - no one wears actual amounts of metal, so she's constantly burning her stores before they get large enough to be noticeable.

she was able to sense sazed's feruchemical store when she burnt it why would that be an allomantic ability i'm still kindof mad we didn't see her even TRY feruchemy anyway au

sazed teaching her...bonding moments...family...

funny moments where sazed and kelsier get weirdly competitive over who's got dibs on the daughter-he-never-thought-he'd-have

I am a SUCKER for zero-dads to multiple dad's trope...

(and thinking about how there HAD to be some feruchemy in the ska population, since the terris people weren't always so separate from the general population)

in addition to noblewoman, thief, mistborn, ska urchin - here's ANOTHER burden, ANOTHER heritage, ANOTHER identity - some pressure to be a Keeper, at least store the books, even if you do nothing else -

imagining reen as a feruchemist, constantly running from town to town because for some reason him, totally ska him, he can do things, things like a misting, but even more obvious, and allomantic vials just make him sick

unconscious feruchemy leading to mental instability (her mother). What happens when you store memories or mental attributes , but never get them back? you're just losing time and strength and willpower to the metal in your groundwater...and it's gone, passed through your body unless you happen to be an allomancer who can burn it back...

duralium-esque shenanigans during book two trying out the lord ruler's youth combo and accidentally making herself into a child. it's resolved eventually but there should have been AT LEAST a few chapters of 11 year old Vin mowing down assassins

HULK PEWTER VIN! HULK PEWTER VIN! FINALLY SHE ACTUALLY LOOKS AS DANGEROUS AS SHE IS! FIVE FOOT NOTHING HULK PEWTER VIN FIGHTING HAMM!!!!

infinite free health combo (somehow? i don't quite understand the mechanic, perhaps it's revealed somewhere else in sanderson books. is it just storing up health? seems like getting flayed would fuck that up. look, we know the lord ruler figured it out, since it's part of his whole Canon that he can't die, a Lot of people have tried)

ANYWAY I am also a fan of "unkillable" character trope where person starts getting too reckless during fights while enemies panic and their loved one's look on in horror because they're still getting hurt

All of the above does NOT help with the whole worshiping thing

staying awake for WAY too long with bronze earring...come on sanderson i know my girl was double deity op but consider if she was even MORE

FERUCHEMY IS OF BOTH PRESERVATION AND RUIN COME ON Y'ALL THINK ABOUT IT

...if it turns out there's an annotation in one of these books that she was actually a feruchemist but it never came up i don't know if i'd be more angry or more vindicated...if there is...okay people can spoil this one (1) thing...

aaah alas - it could have been so sick - feruchemist mistborn fight scene my beloved who shall never be...unless...

[leggerefiore]

Familial Resemblance

cw: angst, fluff, Cyrus Hisui AU

pairing: Cyrus/Reader

I'm mentally unwell for him. I apologise.

🌌🛰☄️🌌🛰☄️🌌🛰☄️

Hisui was a strangely nostalgic place for you. The way the uninhabited lands held the charm of what they would one day develop into. Or, the pokemon still those native to the region, yet unbothered and more wild than the ones back in the era you were from.

Sinnoh was your home in your time. A place that could have both a rural, homely charm and a large, modern feel, depending on where you decided to visit. Everything felt exciting and vast, especially when exploring around on some sort of adventure. The underground was always an experience of finding rare and unknown objects, while the surface was packed full of history and wonder.

Your adventure had settled down long ago, however, with you, too. Veilstone having become a permanent residence of you and your boyfriend, Cyrus. While you had been mostly unaware of his affairs with Team Galactic, you worked to stop him after learning of just want his plans were. He swore he would never give up on them, alas, and disappeared away into the Distortion World, never to be seen. Only an ominous message to his commander Saturn to not look for him being left behind.

You did. With much determination, might you add.

Cyrus was your beloved fool, and you refused to let him continue to hide himself away because he was unable to bear his emotions.

Hisui... Had not been what you wanted with that in mind.

You vanished from your apartment and into the vast lands of Hisui while you slumbered, awakening on a beach with a baffled Galarian above you. He quickly helped you get on your feet while you internally panicked about the situation. Hoping it was a dream, you helped him recapture his lost pokemon and lead you to the early established Jubilife.

Him speaking about the Galaxy Team had you convinced this was some accumulation of recent madness into an odd dream parallel even further. That was until you were introduced to the captain of the Survey Corps. It was difficult to admit that you teared up at the sight of her. The captain herself was a bit distressed by your reaction, but you could not be blamed when familiar blue hair and a harsh expression haunted you.

She was at least polite enough to ignore it while threatening you to earn your keep and place in the village. That was just the beginning of all the odd people who could only remind you of those from your modern era. Unfortunately, Cyllene left the largest impact on you for her uncanny resemblance to your lover.

It was not long after the celebration of the quelling of all the frenzied Nobles and stopping the legendary pokemon that you found yourself alone with the captain. Your journey to get to this point had been a long and arduous one, but it felt like you could relax at long last. Many friends had been made, with trust both lost and gained from many parties. Perhaps, that was how the topic ended up being spoken between you both.

Tearfully, you finally broke down over what had happened with Cyrus and how you felt so hopeless being stuck so far in the past. Cyllene was quite shocked as you sobbed about her descendant to her. You excluded the parts related to just what he had done with his organization, however. She did need to be burdened with the knowledge of what Cyrus would attempt to do. A rare softness took over her features as she softly took your hand in hers. Closing her eyes, she promised to support you in your endeavours of searching for a way home.

That later bled into helping Volo begin his hunt for the plates in order to summon Arceus. If anything could ever be able to get you back to the modern day, it would be the creator of all things itself.

It was while on this search that you found yourself wandering around Mt. Coronet. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, you were just observing the wild Rotoms float about nearby ruins. Well, until a loud thud echoed out from higher above. Snow flew up in the air from whatever had landed on the ground. You rushed over in a panic, worried a Galaxy or clan member had fallen.

Instead, you saw familiar grey clothing and spiky hair. It was probably inhuman the speed in which you rushed over to him. Flipping him over, you instantly checked his pulse and breathing, confirming he was alive. You felt amazed and astonished to see him here in Hisui. How had he ended up here? There was little time to worry as you waved down Galaxy members from the base camp to help you.

There was obvious shock and awe among the Security Corps member that came to help and Laventon. It was obvious there was some relation to Cyllene, what with their familial resemblance and him having an insignia much too like the Galaxy Team's own. They quickly carried him to the camp to warm him and check him over for any obvious injury. You stuck to his side, too, desperately waiting for him to stir slightly from his unconscious state.

Yet, it did not happen between your time of finding him and the time in which more Security Corps members arrived to take him away to the village. You trailed after them, afraid that if you lost sight of him, you might truly never see him again. Unfortunately, you were denied entry into the infirmary. Any arguments were quashed when your captain called you into her office to discuss her supposed relative's sudden appearance.

It was quietly discussed and understood that the newcomer was the descendant you had mentioned to her. Closing her eyes, you could see Cyllene ponder the situation. Her Abra tilted its head in the background. “… I suppose, I can ask you to take responsibility for him?” she then shook her head, “… But if he is my descendant as you claim, then he must be mine.” Her eyes came to stare at you.

“… I'd… just like to speak with him first,” you admitted quietly. A contemplation from her followed. Pesselle unexpectedly entered the office to confirm that he was stabilised yet still unconscious, and permitted to allow for visiting. You gazed at the captain with pleading eyes, and she dismissed you. A silent gratitude was shared with her with a curt nod. You trailed past the medic and nearly rushed to the infirmary.

Finding yourself as his side again, you softly took his hand. His sleeping face seemed surprisingly peaceful despite the bandages wrapped around it. Where had he been? Just how did he end up here? You felt overjoyed to see him again. Confirming no one else was around, you leaned over to kiss his temple.

Was he her responsibility or yours? You almost wanted to say he was certainly yours. Getting comfortable, you felt contented to just sit and watch him. Even as the hour grew later and the sky darker; even as Pesselle urged you to head to your quarters, you remained dutifully at his side. You did not even realise you had fallen asleep at his side.

Though, you were stirred awake by a sudden movement. Your head had rested on the side of Cyrus's bed, having been sitting on the floor. A hand came to stroke your hair. You rose up from your position to look at Cyrus. Stern blue eyes gazed at you with mild confusion and disbelief. Tears burned your eyes. You embraced him as best you could from his half leaned up pose.

“Cy…” you mumbled into his shoulder, “Cy… It is you!” His hand came to you again, to lightly push you away. He gazed around the room in confusion. The room was dark, only a single lamp lit. Most of the Medical Corps had retired hours ago, leaving you and the blue-haired man as the only inhabitants of the room.

“Where is this…?” Cyrus's voice was scratchy, like he had not had anything to drink in a while, “Beloved… No…” He shook his head and spoke your name firmly. You pouted at him.

“This is…” you froze. How did you explain your situation to him? “… The Galaxy Team Headquarters.” He shot you a strange look. Likely, Cyrus had assumed you had a misnomer of his team's name. “Not Team Galactic, Cyrus,” you quickly moved to kill any confusion, “The Galaxy Team. The people who established Jubilife.” His eyes went wide.

“I am unsure what game you are playing at, but that building no longer exists,” he sighed, sitting up completely. A soft hiss of pain came as something obvious hurt from the movement. “… Your clothing is strange,” his eyes moved across your Survey Corps uniform, gaze going to your sleeve to examine the logo, “What is this…? I was just in Giratina's dimension.”

Footsteps silenced you both as the trailed in from the hall. More light came with them, shining on to you both. “I thought heard voices,” a familiar, stern voice spoke. You whipped your head around. Cyllene stood with a lamp held in her hand. Stepping closer, you could only watch Cyrus's expression shift to something of pure astonishment. “I am Cyllene, the captain of the Galaxy Team's Survey Corps,” she introduced herself formally, “As I understand, you are romantically involved with my subordinate.”

Cyrus considered her with something of scepticism and bewilderment, meeting one's ancestor seemingly more life changing than summoning two legendary pokemon. “Yes,” he affirmed, “I am dating them.” He shifted his attention to you, obviously wanting you to give him more information as to just what this is. There was no time for that, however.

“They have made claims beyond my imagination, stating they are from the future, and you are my descendant,” she continued after his confirmation, “There is an obvious resemblance between us, and I have received no contract from my relatives of family wishing to come to Jubilife.” Her posture was straight. “Cyrus, correct? Who are you?” Cyllene asked finally.

He seemed stricken with how to reply. Your words about the location of you both compared with her entire existence and confirmation of some temporal dissonance linking in his head. “… I suppose… I will have to confirm their assertion of time travel,” Cyrus relented that fact, “With that logic, then, yes, I am your descendant.” You watched as he held back any information about Team Galactic. She closed her eyes and nodded.

“How… fantastical…” She sighed. Cyrus seemed in agreement with her words. You felt awestruck at everything. Two of them… Two of a kind… Cyllene opened her eyes. “What a mess,” she spoke without her usual formality, “For now, I would propose introducing yourself as a cousin of mine.” She stepped toward him. “I ask that you refrain from disappearing from them,” her tone was scolding as she looked down at him, “You had them in a horrible state worrying for your safety.”

Cyrus went silent at her shift in tone. With that, she departed from the room with an order for you to head to your home to rest properly. You signed and ignored it. The Galactic Boss closed his eyes to think. At least he seemed to believe you now. There was not a chance you left his side, terrified Giratina would come and scoop him away again.

“… I take it you made no mention of my plans to her,” he spoke once more after a few moments. You nodded. His gaze met yours curiously. “You were upset with me deciding to remain in the Distortion World, then?” Cyrus's hand came to cup your cheek as you sat near him on the bed. Again, you nodded. “… Had I not been interfered with by that infernal pokemon, you would have never experienced those emotions.”  Or any ever, if he had succeeded. You did not dare say that aloud.

“I… I love you, Cy,” you leaned in close enough to feel his breath fan across your skin, “I don't want to lose you again. I hated being away from you… I didn't know if you were even alive!” Tears burned your eyes again as you pressed a kiss to his lips. The affection was unexpectedly reciprocated as Cyrus's hand shifted to the back of your head. When you finally pulled away, you looked deeply into his eyes.

“Beloved,” the familiar affectionate term left him again, “I believe you should follow your captain's orders for now. I assure you I will not disappear, especially not in this circumstance.” You looked at him carefully, still not entirely trusting him. “Trust me,” he said plainly, “Please.” You gave in at that. With one last quick kiss to his cheek, you left the infirmary to head to your home.

Morning came quickly, and you ended up sleeping in on accident due to the previous day's events. By the time you found yourself leaving your home, it was already past noon. You rushed to the headquarters, desperately wanting to see Cyrus again. Inside, you saw a crowd formed slightly outside Cyllene's office. Even Laventon stood among the gawkers. You weaved through, curious about what had drawn them all there.

In the office stood Cyllene with Cyrus on his knees. She stood above him with a stern expression. You walked in, interrupting whatever had developed. Both their eyes landed on you. She readjusted herself to stand more stiffly. What had happened? Cyrus looked completely mortified by her, a rare break in his usual stoic streak.

“… Please — shut the doors,” she gave an order to you and a harsh look to the crowd outside. You quickly moved to do as instructed, and the people slowly dispersed from the hall. She moved to sit at her desk and rested her head on her hand. Cyrus silently rose from his kneeling position. “I am uncertain as to how your parents treated you during your youth,” she glared at Cyrus, “But you simply cannot follow down the path you walk on. As your ancestor, I simply will not allow it.” You felt like you were watching a friend get in trouble with their mom.

“… As I stated, my goal is to create a complete world without strife or suffering,” he refused to face her again. You flinched. Had he told her about what he did with the legendary pokemon? You hoped she had not told him you had those two very ones stashed away in your bag.

“Emotions are necessary, Cyrus,” her tone was strict, “If you feel discontented with your own, it is your duty to work on them.” He flinched at the way she spoke to him. You felt nervous. Was this how his parents treated him? You reached out to grab his wrist. “… Please work under me,” she offered, “You clearly need to recover from your injuries, and we do not allow those who do not work to stay here. I feel it is my duty to help set you on a better path, as well.”

You looked at him. Softly gripping him, you spoke, too. “Cy, please,” you begged him, “I'm working on a way to get us back home. You staying here could have with you a professor and a wealth of information.” He sighed.

“Fine,” Cyrus relented, “... What do you expect of me? You explained that they do field research, but it sounds as if that is not your intention for me.” Cyllene looked at the mess of papers around her and then at him. Oh, boy, you realised.

Cyrus's secretary arc was to begin, it seemed.

[distopea]

starter for @nezumivc103221

If he ever had a bad opinion regarding gypsies and circus folks - mostly due to his lack of knowledge regarding their mores - Mads had been quick to notice that they were more hard working than any man of his village. Leaving Mika’s trailer in the early morning had become a routine, quite easy to follow, and somewhat reassuring. It was simple to have a sort of schedule; to push aside human emotions, only to focus on hard work. Mads was devoted and silent. He had never been talented at expressing his feelings, most of the words coming from his soul as broken as he was inside. 

Working, at least, was an easy way out. He would push aside his guilt, his secrets, and the burden of having a sick brother when they should have been on the road by themselves. He wouldn’t need to think about how to repay his debts with those strange and colorful people, him, who was nothing but a large shadow with no talent whatsoever. Carrying wood, chopping it, lifting boxes, adjusting the scene for the next shows, giving food to the horses, eating by the firecamp at night… All of his muscles were solicited, and in the end, Mads was slowly becoming a pale version of himself, a ghost in the middle of everyone, but free from his own demons and thoughts. 

What a coping mechanism for an ex-soldier who couldn’t voice his own hell. There were already too many songs within his head after all.

As he was splashing rain water over his face, cleaning the remains of dust, soot and mud over his features, Mads noticed Nezumi from afar. He had watched him perform at night, more than once, secretly admiring his capacity to shift into a different skin and pretend to be someone else. Sometimes he wished he had the capacity to do the same, but alas, he was endlessly walking in his own skin, cursed to the bones by his own misery. Nezumi was a burning light and he was barely just a trail of smoke in the atmosphere.

The camp was truly busy this afternoon, Mads feeling the change in the air like an animal relying on his instincts. Something was different, but he couldn’t grasp the reason. 

“Nezumi,” he called, while he rolled up his sleeves and whipped his face with his palm, walking to meet the performer. His voice sounded raspy; he hadn’t talked to anyone since he had left Mika in the morning. Once he faced him, he remained silent for a while, as he wondered what a man smelling like horse shit could say to someone ethereal like him.

Each time he was eyeing Nezumi he had the sensation they were coming from different worlds, and not only because of the circus or their radically different habits.

“What’s the matter with everyone today?” He eventually asked, and made sure to pick what seemed to be an empty bucket on the ground, ready to get some fresh water from the wheel. “Everyone seems so… unusually busy.”