#<- here lies my hubris

[graham--folger]

some days i wake up and get mad that some characters belong to the mcu because i know for a fact i could write them better

[undefeatablesin]

You know what? Fuck you. *Bloodbornes your Pinnochio again*

[queseraphita]

i didn't think i could lure the enemy into the hallway, 'doorstuck' him and then kill him by throwing all my items at him

i had no reason to survive this

[heraxic]

I’m sorry if you already answered this (I didn’t find it mentioned) but why was Kyril/Karl mutated, imprisoned and hunted in the Greek Myth AU? This definitely feels like Miranda/Athena was punishing him. What happened?

Thanks for asking!

Here’s pre-curse Kyril (story under cut, body horror/gore warning)

Yes, it was meant as punishment (unlike Alina and Daphne), and to no one’s surprise his crime was hubris.

Kyril worked at his father’s forge, far surpassing his skills in both metalworking and stone masonry. As such he was blessed by Hephaestus himself.

He got commissioned to make a statue of Athena in honor of her craftsmanship. He rolled his eyes and set to work, complaining that it’d be more fitting to make one of Hephaestus, who picked up the slack, since Athena abandoned her craft and stopped making beautiful things for the sake of her sick game (Athena’s Gauntlet of Monsters, so far containing a living whirlpool and a sphinx, was widely known and many daydreamed of or even sought the glory of defeating the beasts). In spite of his grumbling the statue came out stunning with clean cut stone and gilded detailing.

The next day, a weaver came to Kyril’s forge saying she’d heard his complaints about her goddess, which confused her cause with a statue that beautiful a blessing would naturally be in order, yet he burned that bridge. ‘What if she could give you the power to make the most life-like statues in the world?’ Kyril laughed and said it wasn’t her domain, and besides he didn’t need it.

Refusing a blessing from a god is one thing, but to mock them and be telling the truth at the same time is unforgivable.

The weaver lifted her shawl from her head and revealed a brilliant blue plume and with it a golden helmet. Athena arose to her full dreadful height, one hand holding her winged spear, the other pointed towards the terrified sinner in front of her. ‘You will know what power is when you see it. You shall have my blessing whether you wish or not.’

In a second, Kyril fell to the floor screaming with blinding agony, feeling horrible squelching and crunching as bone and muscle grew where it shouldn’t. His nails fell out and out of the raw empty spots grew thorny black claws; his spine extended to accommodate a tufted lion tail; the skin of his back ripped to tatters to unfurl two sets of bloody grey wings; his black curls turned to angry, writhing snakes, each more venomous than the last; his teeth grew sharp and pointed, cutting rifts on his tongue so blood filled his mouth; and lastly his eyes grew heavy in their sockets as they were imbued with the last of the goddess’s curse.

Hearing the commotion, Kyril’s father rushed in and cradled the strange figure he knew was his son, turning his head towards him. He instantly froze in place, a perfect image of paternal worry, and the monster felt the arms holding it turn hard and grating like stone.

Athena took him away to her islands somewhere in the Cyclades to become the next glorious creature on her roster, the Gorgon. There he lied writhing in pain for 12 days without sleep or food (besides the right leg of Pallas, which further changed his body and gained him far more muscle and size). When the pain subsided enough to let him speak he prayed for his patron Hephaestus to help him, but alas gods can’t break each other's curses. Instead he carved out a spacious cave for him in which to seek shelter as well as several unbreakable stonemason and smithing tools to keep up his spirits.

700 yrs later Elias comes to the islands.

[tc-doherty]

TC's Practical Writing Tips

Like I said before, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that I can teach anyone how to write – that's a level of hubris even I'm not capable of –but in honor of my rapidly approaching ~quarter century of writing original fiction anniversary~, I did figure I would share the tips that I live by when it comes to the act of writing.

So without further ado:

Write it now, fix it later

2. It is always permissible – and usually enjoyable – to write the stupidest possible version

3. "Inspiration" is great for poets, but poison for people who write prose

3.1: if you want to write often, you need to write often, and then you will find that you don't need to be "inspired" because you will have made a habit of it and it will come naturally 3.2: even one sentence a day is still one sentence a day. And even one sentence a week is still one sentence a week. It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop 3.3: believing in the concept that you need to be inspired to write will trap you into believing in the concept of writer's block 3.4: if you are having difficulty getting out words that satisfy you, lower your standards and keep writing (see point one)

4. A few months down the line you will not remember which words came easily and which words did not

5. It is always permissible to set a project aside for now, or forever, if you need a break

6. Read widely and often, both in your favorite genres and outside of them

6.1: pay special attention to both things that you love and things that you hate - study them, engage with them, learn what makes yourself tick and your writing can only get stronger

7. Never write for the lowest common denominator, via wise words I once heard: "if you open the window and make love to the world, your story will get pneumonia", have an audience in mind and the people who like what you write will find it

8. Never write for the bad faith critic, those people will always exist and you will need to deal with them at some point if you put your writing in the world, but they don't matter and you cannot live in fear of them

9. It's fine and normal to want engagement and praise, however you must find a way to make the act of writing joyful in and of itself – make the praise the cherry on top, not the entire sunday

9.1: writing is hard work, and it's a lot of work, if you lose the ability to enjoy the journey and are proceeding only for external rewards from others, you will gradually write less and less if the ratio of work to rewards is unsatisfying

10. For anything other than final copy editing, always write a new draft into a new document, or else the words you have already written will trap you from being able to make large, sweeping changes

10.1: any change you make will invariably snowball, and you must give space for that snowball to roll

11. If someone tells you that something doesn't work for them, believe them, because people know what they like. But if people try to tell you what to do to fix it, take that with an entire serving of salt because you are the author, not them

12. It is always morally correct to look at a critique that you received, even if you asked for opinions via beta reading, and decide that it's bullshit and doesn't apply to you

13. "write what you know" means "write what you're interested in"

14. "Show don't tell" applies to screenwriting, not novels. This is the thing that drives me the most insane every time I see it. Novels are words on a page, not images on a screen. They require a lot of telling. Not all telling, but a lot of telling. Become comfortable with that.

15. It is always, ALWAYS acceptable to use "said", do not listen to the lies of others

16. Have fun, do it out of love and you will never go astray

17. Become comfortable with who you are. Your work is always going to be yours and it is always going to sound like you wrote it, and this is a good thing! No one else is ever going to write exactly like you, and you should be proud of that

17.1: the concept of "originality" is vastly overrated, every culture has some version of Cinderella and we still love it. Your writing is yours because you wrote it, and it will always be unique because of that

[amoscontorta]

Alike and Cornered Beast: Sylus's POV

Summary:

I was desperate for Sylus's point of view during the first time that MC meets him in the Alike and Cornered Beast chapters of Long-Awaited Revelry. So I uh wrote it myself. I wanted to know why he touches MC so reverently but also quite brutally, so I spent a lot of time thinking about possibilities.

A/N:

Sylus x gender neutral reader/MC, second person POV (but we don't use Y/N in this house). Brief, derisive mentions of Xavier and Zayne (this is Sylus's POV after all, don't come for me). I love all the LIs, but Sylus has his hand wrapped around my throat and I see him as arrogantly having something to say about the other people who are also interested in his shiny treasure. He has mean thoughts about the other LIs, but he can be mean and we love that for him. Slightly canon divergent if you believe Sylus can't tell that MC is scared and repulsed by him until the shopkeeper informs him. I however believe this man is a little more perceptive than that. CW: violence, cursing, rude language, death, grief, murder, ok this is Sylus hello, non-consensual (non-sexual) touching of MC, metaphors involving hunger and blood, overuse of the word "lovely," but Sylus is a simp and it's mostly his POV so we must endure it. SFW, although clearly there is a thread of desire running beneath the interactions depicted ao3 link here

He doesn’t need the aether core in his eye to know how you're feeling. He can see it in the way your lovely jaw is locked tight, teeth clenched behind soft lips twisted into a tight line. The shudder you’re trying and failing spectacularly to repress, desperate to conceal your weakness: the fact that almost as much as you fear him, you hate him.

Almost from the very beginning, things have been going sideways for Sylus. First, that imbecile having the hubris to believe he could just pilfer what had clearly been claimed as belonging to Onychinus.

Second, the palpable fear that had juddered through you as he had graciously relieved the larcenist of the burden of his pathetic life, only for that fear to flare into bright, barely controlled hate once you figured out that using yourself as bait had succeeded in reeling in the largest predator in the N109 zone.

Third, even when he sauntered close to you, allowing you to drink your fill of his face, no other spark of recognition fired besides that of the leader of the most powerful criminal organization in the region. You didn’t recognize him personally at all, even as he hungrily mapped your face with his eyes and felt the bottomless well of want deepen even further in his heartless chest.

You didn’t remember a fucking thing. And for some reason, you hated him more than his worst enemies. And he had quite a large body count in the worst enemy column of the ledger of his existence.

The fear, he can understand. Onychinus is on the Hunter Association’s Naughty List, and you’re one of the Association’s true believers, a jewel in the hilt of their blade composed of naïve warriors. And like the noble, naïve creature he knows you to be, you firmly believe that any intel they fed you about him and his organization was the pure, unfiltered truth.

But the hate? He muses as he looks down into your upturned face, a face that has been carved into his dreams for weeks now, ever since Mephisto had reported back after scouting the Flux Nexus in the no-hunt zone. Ever since the night he finally found you, stumbling around and battling at the side of your sleepy, cunning rabbit of a partner in the dark wood, oblivious to the real danger perched amongst the leaves, watching through mechanical eyes. His lips twitch in an ironic smile, as he knows he should be grateful to the rabbit for the fact that you’re in front of him now, so agonizingly close. He can see the rise and fall of your chest. The breath you exhale, for him to inhale. All he has to do is let his hand do what it wants—reach out, fingertips drifting softly along the curve of your cheek, your throat, the pulse point that betrays your racing heart. You’re close enough that he could swallow you whole. A good man might be grateful, but he isn’t a good man, and he doesn’t have it in him to be grateful; he only catalogues the threat, and tucks away the thought of the light evolver to be a problem to contemplate, and solve, another day. Right now, he needs to solve the problem of why you hate him on a level that professional distaste can’t explain. The hate he sees in your bright, sharp eyes is personal.

Consequently, he might not need the aether core in his eye to know that you hate him, but he sure as hell needs it to figure out why.

He knows he should wait to use his power on you. He knows that strategically, the best play here is to move slowly, to rebuild your trust, to tease out what he wants from you, to prove to you that despite every instinct that the Association has indoctrinated in you, he is not a threat to you and never will be. He knows all too well that one can’t force trust and forge an equal relationship from coercion, but he doesn’t have the time. Not with the entire Nest on the hunt for his Prey tonight, not with his own house in chaos with Sherman running amok and running up the bill on collateral damage. He needs to know why you hate him so that he can deal with it now, all of it. To borrow the vocabulary of another one of your hapless suitors: now is the time for triage, and after he has assessed the carnage, then he will begin suturing the aftermath. Sylus may be a businessman, but he can appreciate a surgeon’s precision in approaching a crisis. Even if Sylus can’t appreciate the iceman himself, if only for the lingering looks the doctor indulges in when his patient is looking the other way. Sylus files this problem away, like the other, to be solved in quiet solitude another day.

So he indulges in a lingering look of his own, fingers twitching with the need to touch where they’re deceptively, casually resting on his hips. And then: Sylus lets himself look. He can feel the familiar warmth increase within his eye socket, the ember beginning to glow hotter and hotter, until it’s almost unbearable, and then truly unbearable, as it is every time, the price he must pay so that he may see.

A little silver apple on a chain.

A pair of smiling eyes.

An old woman’s hand placing a dumpling on a plate.

The relief of realizing that the danger has dissipated, and dinner is still waiting.

A strong, broad back, shoulders shaking with laughter as a door swings shut.

Almost from the very beginning, things have gone sideways for Sylus. He shuts his eyes, feels the heat and the pressure fade like grief with time, as the power in his aether core goes dormant once again. But you haven’t had time, have you? It’s still fresh, the wound still hemorrhaging. You think that he caused this. You’ve been bleeding for months, thinking it was his hand that wielded the knife lodged in your heart. Or rather, detonated the bomb that incinerated the only family you’ve ever known, leaving a smoking crater where your heart used to be.

Sylus’s mind races, compiling this new information, archiving the whys and hows, constructing and reconstructing his carefully assembled plans and all of the contingencies in between, laughing derisively at himself for not seeing this possibility coming. Sideways is an understatement. Things are well and truly fucked, Sylus thinks, looking into your lovely, livid face.

For a moment, an unfamiliar sensation drifts through his chest. He tests it gingerly, letting it cascade through him before he can identify it: despair. After all this time. Every year, month, week, day, second, breath, he has been carving a path towards you, littered with the broken dreams and broken bodies of others, and now he has finally found you, and what should have been his greatest victory (the spoils? His fingertips drifting up your silken skin, his fingers entwined with yours, home), may have been his greatest loss—a loss that is for once, despite all of his crimes and all of the corpses at his feet, every terrible thing he has ever done, not his fault at all.

He savors this strange feeling for a few heartbeats, indulging in it, pressing into it like a bruise, if bruises would actually remain under his skin. And then he discards it: the unexpected rarely obstructs his carefully laid plans, but nothing about you has ever been expected, has it? If he were the kind of man to resign himself to unexpected loss, like the other men clumsily flitting around you, he’d have been a dead trophy tossed at the feet of an enemy long ago. So the rules of the game have changed. So what? Sylus will adapt, because no matter his fucking luck, he is playing to win.

Because while gazing into the depths of your beloved eyes, Sylus not only saw the why of your hate, but the only thing that could soothe it. Something that you refuse to admit, even to your fundamentally honest self. Something you can’t admit, as you spend insomniac nights training until collapse, as you slice, maim, and end wanderer after wanderer, as you bare your teeth a little too savagely as blood spills beneath your fist and blade. You need vengeance. You need someone to hurt as much as you’re hurting. And not just anyone—the wanderers and criminals that you’ve trained your fists and pistols and blade on do not satisfy the blood-thirst burning through your veins. You need to punish the person responsible for the inferno in your chest. Maybe then you’ll be able to sleep again. Maybe then you’ll be able to not smile again, but at least retract the fangs that have been frightening the people around you for months now. The fangs you feared were always there, underneath the careful façade of the well-adjusted, law-abiding, healthy paragon of a hunter you’ve built to keep the nightmares at bay for years, to show your colleagues, your partner, your doctor and your superiors: Look, I’m harmless and righteous, the perfect tool, love me, love me, love me, please do not leave like everyone else I've ever loved.

And Sylus? Sylus has always, and will always, endeavor to give you everything your damaged heart could possibly desire. He knows that you will not believe that he was not the one who ripped your ‘family’ apart. And he knows that it will take time, time that he does not currently have, to rebuild what has been lost between the two of you. He recalibrates, sweeps aside the despair, and reinforces his resolve. If you want to exact vengeance on the person you think is responsible for all of your indescribable pain, Sylus will give his heart to you on a bloody platter, regardless of the pain it will cost him.

You need someone to hate right now to stay strong? So be it. He will be that for you, until he can locate the actual culprit. As he reaches out, ever so gently trailing the backs of his fingers along your hauntingly lovely face, he tells himself for a moment that he can't bring himself to use something so impersonal as the energy of his evol on you. But who is he kidding--Sylus is many things, but a liar is not one of them. He admits to himself that this is just him finally giving into his deepest desire, as he lets his hand drift from your face to the side of your neck, closing around your throat and lifting. He does not want to handle your precious form with such brute, concise strength, but he needs to hurry, he needs answers and he needs to fix this, now now now and you need him to be the enemy. This is what is best for you at this moment, in this place, and he only ever wants what is best for you, so he plays the part you need him to play:

"From your past to your future...to even all the crimes you'll inevitably commit. After all, you and I...we're the same. True kindred spirits."

As your body goes limp from his chokehold on you, he catches you, cradling your head in his hand, grateful for the strength of his body, the shelter he can provide you as he lifts you in his arms, holds you tightly, your chests finally close again, yours too full of a maimed heart and his missing one entirely, complementing each other, completing each other, even though you’re out cold and it will take so much—too much, too much, it’s already been too much time, you’re finally here, you’re finally in his arms, where you should have been all along—time to be able to have you in his arms like this but with your eyes wide open and fixed on his.

Later, when you wake up, in a dark room with this familiar stranger disdainfully staring you down through crimson eyes, as his evol winds itself around you, as it jerks you onto his big lap, you clench your teeth, you fight the tears of frustration and fury—why do you always cry when you’re angry? Is it not humiliating enough to lose control of the leash on your emotions, without tears spilling down your face to betray you to the object of your rage?­—and you fight desperately against the immovable force pinning you in place.

"I want to kill you myself," you grit out, through the tears and the snot running down your face.

And then this man places your gun in your hand, eyes bright as blood never leaving yours, in answer to the quietest, deepest buried desire of your limping heart that he has driven you to saying out loud. Your hate flares, because how dare he expose you to yourself in this manner? Who does this motherfucker think he is, casually extracting from your own mouth and offering you that which you couldn’t before name in hushed whispers, as if it means nothing to him, as if it costs him nothing, his sharp jaw relaxed, a ghost of a smirk curling the edges of his wide mouth? You fight it, the surge of hunger that chokes your panting breath—you fight it so hard, you’ve been fighting it for so long, ever since the piercing ringing in your ears began to sound that replaced your grandmother’s and Caleb’s laughter, the ringing silence that followed as debris rained down on your useless, injured body. You are not a mindless animal. You will not give in to this voracious want. You and this man holding your gun to his own heart are not the same, and never will be.

“Do you need some help? Yes? No? Maybe so?” His voice is the purr of a jungle cat, his hand, large and just as calloused as yours, envelops your own, with that same bizarre gentleness that you can’t even begin to interpret the why of, his finger drifting along your own, until it slowly tightens over yours. Your mouth says “No,” and you see how his eyes dart from yours to your lips and back again, but the hunger inside you howls as this man presses your finger against the trigger and the sound of the bullet leaving your gun drowns out all of the other noise in the cacophony of your thundering heart.

His big body jerks back, head hitting with a painful sounding thump against his melodramatic throne (ok, so it's just an antique chair, but honestly, where do villains buy ridiculous props like this?), and for an endless moment in time, the hunger is satiated, and a sense of triumphant relief courses through you instead. And then your vision sharpens, as blood the color of this man’s eyes begins to pour through the hole he—and you, we, together—just shot into his fucking heart.

He jerks the gun from your grasp and tosses it with a loud clatter to the concrete floor.

“You—Are you fucking crazy?” You’re moving before you realize it, palms pressed over his heart (a spiteful part of you hopes that it hurts him, even as you are suddenly overwhelmed with the terror that he is actually going to die, before you get any answers, before you get any help, before you’ve accomplished anything at all).

“You wanted to take my life,” he pants. It never hurts any less, no matter how many times it happens. He can feel his flesh knitting back together already, each stitch as painful as the one before. “And so you’ve taken it.”

Despite the pain, Sylus watches you leisurely, drinking in the blood splatters across your lovely neck and chin. My blood, he thinks with satisfaction. He wants to soak you in it. He wants to watch you bathe in it. He shakes his head, tucking that urge away for later contemplation. He is finally in the position to do what he has been craving for so, so long. He has given you what you want. Of course he will always give you what you want. However, that doesn’t mean that he can’t simultaneously get what he wants—Sylus strongly prefers deals when they’re win-win. He has given you what you wanted, and the slate is now clean. Now, it is time to begin negotiation of the highest stakes deal of his life: the acquisition of your body, heart and soul. Back at his side, where you belong.

“Now what? Have you already figured out how you’ll pay me back?”

[dalekowrites]

What would your favourite choice of the games interactive stories be? Would you have a favourite type? Romance, Fantasy etc. and did any of the inspire you with the ones you are currently writing? 😁

Oh boy! This is going to be a long answer, brace yourself lol

Let me start by saying that I have a degree in English literature (in fact, I'm going to do a PhD on it), so reading, in general, is one of the core activities of my life.

As for text adventures, even if not from Choice of Games Ltd., I'd like to mention a few inspirations: my passion first came from the original Choose Your Own Adventure series, and I still remember which numbers obsessed me as a child: Mountain Survival #28, The Dragons' Den #33, and more than any other, Space Patrol #22! (The latter may have also fueled my unhealthy obsession with Star Trek TOS, actually). For those unfamiliar with this fantastic book series, the genres of the three books I mentioned are, respectively, adventure, fantasy, and sci-fi. This gives you an idea of how varied my tastes are...

Later on, I discovered interactive fictions and text adventures. Dude, it was a dream come true. I started with Adventure ('76, never finished it, of course) and Zork ('79, never finished that either… of course. How damn hard were they?!). Then Mystery Mansion ('78), Castle Adventure ('82), and too many, many others. I'm a sucker for Sorcery! from inkle, and I deeply loved Magium (RIP Chris, you won't be forgotten). For my Italian-speaking friends, I also really enjoyed the Fra Tenebra e Abisso series (although its current status is unknown).

But back to CoG-related things. I've read a lot, and I'd probably be faster telling you what I didn't like! As you may have figured out by now, I don't have any particular genre preferences as long as a story is well-written, though horror-thriller stories usually grab my attention more easily.

Important note: I've read a lot of stories and, with a few exceptions, I liked most of them. To avoid writing a too-long list, here are the published stories that really impressed me:

A Crown of Sorcery and Steel,

A Midsummer Night's Choice,

Blood for Poppies,

Blood Moon,

Broadway: 1849,

Choice of the Cat,

Choice of the Vampire,

Donor,

Doomsday on Demand (1 and 2),

Gilded Rails,

Golden Rose: Book One,

Jazz Age,

Lies Under Ice,

Life of a Mercenary,

Life of a Space Force Captain,

MetaHuman Inc.,

Noblesse Oblige,

Paradox Factor,

The Evertree Saga (all four books),

Rent-a-Vice,

Revolution Diabolique,

Siege of Treboulain,

Tally Ho,

The Daily Blackmail,

The Dragon and the Djinn,

The Fernweh Saga: Book One,

The Fog Knows Your Name,

The Gray Painter,

The Grim and I,

The Ghost and the Golem,

The Lost Heir,

The Midnight Saga: The Monster,

The Parenting Simulator,

The Play's the Thing,

The Soul Stone War (1 and 2),

The War for the West,

Tudor Intrigue,

Vampire Regent,

Vampire: The Masquerade (all of them),

Way Walkers: University (1 and 2),

Welcome to Moreytown,

Werewolves: Haven Raising,

Zombie Exodus,

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven.

And now, onto works in progress! There aren’t that many because I barely have time to follow my own (heh…), so here, in alphabetical order, are the ones I'm following with the most interest:

Adoriel's Tears (@adoriels-tears-if),

A Father's Love (@kal-down),

Crown of Ashes and Flames (@coeluvr),

Dawn Chorus (@dawnchorus-if)

Disenchanted (@disenchantedif),

Dragon's Edged (@dragonedged-if),

Elysium (@elysiumcircusif),

Fallen Lights (@fallenlightsif),

For King and Country (@forkingandcountry-if),

From The Ashes We Rise (@kal-down),

Hubris (@hubris-the-if-game),

Kingdoms and Empires (@kingdoms-and-empires),

Return to Misty Cove (@fluorescent-if),

The Abyssal Song (@ri-writes-if),

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart (@doriana-gray-games),

The Lonely Shore (@thelonelyshore-if),

The King's Hound (@the-kingshound),

The Reaper Watches Me (@thereaperwatchesme),

The Bureau (@thebureau),

The Unseelie (@theunseelieif),

Van Helsing (@vanhelsing-if),

When Life Gives You Lemons (@when-life-gives-you-lemons-if).

Okay, that was… a lot. As for direct inspirations, I don't have any direct ones, but I can say I felt like writing a post-apocalyptic story after reading Doomsday on Demand! Other than that, I guess the collection of narrative, text adventures, and interactive fiction I've read have led me to where I am now.

Damn, it took me hours to write this answer. I hope it's satisfying at least! Thanks for asking ☺

[calliesmemes]

PINTEREST QUOTES WITH POTENTIAL

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS pulled from various quotations I have seen on Pinterest while creating boards for my muses.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

❛ Who’s a heretic now? ❜

❛ If I stay here, trouble will find me. ❜

❛ What’s it like to be so free? ❜

❛ I watched the whole world fall apart. ❜

❛ I am teaching myself how to be free. ❜

❛ The only solution is to stand and fight. ❜

❛ There’s something tragic about you. ❜

❛ You were never a saint. ❜

❛ To be a woman is to perform. ❜

❛ l speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ❜

❛ Now I know what I was born for. ❜

❛ There’s a light in all of us, trying to get free. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ Look who’s digging their own grave. ❜

❛ Come a little closer, if you dare. ❜

❛ Family defines you, even if it demands sacrifice. ❜

❛ History does strange things to dead women. ❜

❛ I can’t believe the things I’ve done. ❜

❛ Hubris is a bitch. ❜

❛ It’s all in your head. ❜

❛ I keep my visions to myself. ❜

❛ We could be heroes. ❜

❛ Take my hand, and I’ll protect you. ❜

❛ Open your eyes. This is the revolution. ❜

❛ I am so much more than they told me I was. ❜

❛ Let me be your muse. ❜

❛ I’m not just a pretty girl. ❜

❛ Your fear of looking stupid is holding you back. ❜

❛ I wish I could be the perfect daughter. ❜

❛ I am not who I was before. ❜

❛ I won’t just be a puppet on a string. ❜

❛ If I can still breathe, I’m fine. ❜

❛ Straighten up, little soldier. ❜

❛ Am I a monster, or a victim myself? ❜

❛ This isn’t the way normal people live. ❜

❛ Your impression of me is wrong. ❜

❛ I wish I could let all this anger go. ❜

❛ I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. ❜

❛ If I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have met you. ❜

❛ Maybe there’s a hero in me after all. ❜

❛ I am happy anywhere that I can see the ocean. ❜

❛ They should be terrified of you. ❜

❛ I have seen the future. ❜

❛ Let go of the illusion that it could’ve been different. ❜

❛ My father is a good man. ❜

❛ I went to war with myself for you. ❜

❛ I care too much in a world that cares too little. ❜

❛ If it makes you happy, then it’s not a waste of time. ❜

❛ Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. ❜

❛ You make everyone around you feel seen. ❜

❛ If you feel nothing, then why are you shaking? ❜

❛ Let’s run somewhere far away. ❜

❛ You carry your last name like a burden. ❜

❛ You are at war, even in your dreams. ❜

❛ We met for a reason. ❜

❛ I designed my own catastrophe. ❜

❛ You and I are the same thing. ❜

❛ Never let another soul tell you what to fear. ❜

❛ I have always loved the sea. ❜

❛ I didn’t say I liked it — I said that it fascinated me. ❜

❛ You will never be forgiven. ❜

❛ No one ever really dies. ❜

❛ Your son is gone. ❜

❛ Death must exist for life to have meaning. ❜

❛ Your mouth is full of white lies. ❜

❛ Loving me is a death sentence. ❜

❛ There is a thunderstorm inside of you. ❜

❛ Beauty is a weapon. ❜

❛ You haven’t even seen my bad side yet. ❜

❛ How do I stop the guilt? ❜

❛ I am a victim of introspection. ❜

❛ Love is what gives me strength to survive. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ You’ve seen too much too young. ❜

❛ I am not of mortal men. ❜

❛ Tell me what it’s like to conquer. ❜

❛ I like who I’m becoming. A lot. ❜

❛ I don’t believe in promises anymore. ❜

❛ Parents kill more dreams than anybody. ❜

❛ You are woven into my veins. ❜

❛ You are a diamond. They can’t break you. ❜

❛ I must not hope. I must not cry. ❜

❛ It’s no wonder that you can’t sleep — you’re haunted. ❜

❛ You are made of destructive magic. ❜

❛ You are so unique. ❜

❛ I myself am a haunted house. ❜

❛ You comfort others with the words you want to hear. ❜

❛ You’ll find love, kid. It exists. ❜

❛ You talk like a book. ❜

❛ You are one of God’s few mistakes. ❜

❛ I’m not capable of saving you. ❜

❛ Curiosity often leads to trouble. ❜

❛ I have crossed oceans of time to find you. ❜

❛ I can do this. Even if I can’t, I have to. ❜

❛ I can’t go back there! ❜

❛ Forests have secrets. It’s practically what they’re for. ❜

❛ Can you remember who you were? ❜

❛ Are you proud of who you have become? ❜

❛ I see in you an old soul with young eyes. ❜

[slowd1ving]

LAMENT OF OUROBOROS . 　⁺ MASTERLIST

"Forsaken is he who disregards the warnings of a wise man. Hark! gather round—for this is the ode of the seventh prince of Metis. Let this elegy be your lesson: a final cautionary tale of a cursed prince forgotten in even the annals of history. Hubris blinded seventh prince Veritas Ratio, and for that he paid a bitter price. Sit, bear witness to the truths spun by the Moirai—lest you too would like to partake in his tragic fate." • . * cursed prince ratio + alchemist m reader possibly my magnum opus (not just because I finally figured out how to do the gradient thing :3) rough design for minoan fashion ratio here map for key regions (very rough, done on mspaint but whatever) warnings: video game violence, death? kind of? tyranny (are we surprised), male-coded reader (or at least the in-game avatar is)

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

✦ I. PRINCE OF ARROGANCE, PRIDE HAS A HEAVY PRICE;

→ Where it all begins. The venerable Sophos Nous leaves the prince with eight words, and the youth decides his destiny over them.

"His fate was sealed the moment he could taste choleric resentment on his tongue, followed shortly by spite: for spite is the desire to thwart. The path he instinctually set out on—to seek knowledge about the abuses of wisdom in the palace—was one that would only end in despair. "

✦ II. COME HITHER, CURSE WHERE HE LIES.

→ Where it all ends. The prince's scheme germinates, flourishes and withers as quietly as he.

"This was the tale of the seventh prince; an elegy hidden from the footnotes of history. Within the game Lament of Ouroboros, his sorrows were summarised thusly:

A strangely warm vein of ore. 

Hero, come here when dusk kisses the edge of the Borderlands. As your palm brushes against the rock, you may be able to feel the pulse of a slumbering prince. 

Three sentences were all that was afforded to the disgraced prince, forgotten to all but the Moirai."

✦ III. OH, HOW TRAGIC IS HE;

→ You are luckier than he is. You are unluckier than he is. For though your end is painful and futile, there is no lingering in limbo for the rest of your eternity.

"It was an accident. 

“I’m sorry. Ah, shit—” Something wet splashed your cheek, followed by a fumbling hand that tried to brush it away but only succeeded in smearing the thin liquid across your face awkwardly. “Don’t— fuck, I’ll stay with you, alright?” 

Fingers wrapped around your own, flesh against bone. Pulsing life alongside a silent end. 

The last thing on your lips was an apology, in the form of a salty tear dripping from above."

✦ IV. WEEP FOR HIM, I BID OF THEE.

→ tba.

✦ V. HE IS THE MOST PITIFUL OF MEN;

→ tba.

✦ VI. FOR NONE SHED TEARS FOR THE FORSAKEN.

→ tba.

[eirenical]

Mysterious Lotus Casebook | Lian Hua Lou | 莲花楼 | Episodes 3 & 9 - The Letter

There is so much we don't know about what happened ten years ago between Sigumen and Jinyuanmeng.  A lot of it gets unraveled as the show goes on, but one thing remains true: there is a hell of a lot of unreliable narration to pick through to get to the truth.  And when it comes to the particular truths of what happened between the individual people involved, that becomes even more true.

And one of the little mysteries that always bothered me was this letter that Qiao Wanmian wrote to Li Xiangyi to break up with him.  Because I absolutely could not figure out when he actually got that letter.  Anyway, I finally caught a few details that helped me to tease that apart and my first realization was that he fucking LEFT HER ON 'READ' for about a month (Li XIangyi, PLEASE OTZ) and the second realization was that we get two different versions of these events YET AGAIN, but this time both from Li Xiangyi's POV in flashbacks, and I'm CHEWING GLASS OVER IT, so naturally I have to share.

So the first time we get this particular flashback is in episode 3.  Li Lianhua is remembering the aftermath of the Donghai Battle, how he fell into the ocean and washed up on the shore... a husk of what he had once been.

He wakes up and makes his way into town and to Sigumen's steps, overhearing all this terrible news as he walks.  People injured, homes destroyed, people killed, and so much of the blame being placed on all the sects, and on Sigumen in particular.  And as he walks, you can see it all starting to weigh him down, until he's literally bent over from the weight of it on his back.

And then the final betrayal.  His people, his friends, want to disband the sect.  They want to walk away.  They blame him and his hubris for this disaster.  And the coup-de-grace is Xiao Zijin asking Qiao Wanmian... "You don't like this place either, right?"

And the sad look on Qiao Wanmian's face finally breaks Li XIangyi of his paralysis and he turns away, back to the scene unfolding on those steps and drifts back to the shore, where he ultimately collapses.

And that's all we get.

We know he returned to Sigumen.  We know he overheard them wanting to disband the sect.  We know he left without a word.  And that's the end of the story as far as Episode 3 is concerned.

But this makes sense.  Li LIanhua is mid-Bicha attack and has just left Fang Duobing on the side of the road when this flashback comes on.  He's fighting his own body in a desperate bid for survival to complete the one task he's set himself and Fang Duobing has just dredged up all this stuff and gone off on a tear about how he's Li Xiangyi's disciple.  A road Li Xiangyi never got a chance to walk.  Another person he failed along the way.  And so he's focused on all the ways in which he is a failure in that moment, all the ways he doesn't live up to Fang Duobing's hero, Li XIangyi, all the ways that he is no longer that man.  So he zeroes in on the moment he lost it all: his reputation, his sect, his health, his power.  So that's the part of the flashback that we get.

But in Episode 9, we have an entirely different set of circumstances.  He's just saved his A-mian.  He's focused on helping her let go of the man he thinks she still loves.  He's putting himself aside to focus solely on her (or so he thinks—that's honestly a question for later, but bear with me, we'll get there ;D) and what she needs.  And we get dumped into this flashback again.

Only this time it doesn't start on the beach.  It starts here:

It starts with Li Xiangyi seeing his sect disbanded again.  Only this time, he remembers the words that come from Xiao Zijin differently:

There's no speaking out load of "you hate it here too, don't you?" or any similar sentiment.  Because at this point, Li Lianhua knows this isn't true.  She can't hate it there.  She lives there.  She didn't leave.  And she doesn't hate him because she very obviously misses him and mourns him.  So in his mind, he gives this moment a little less abrasiveness.  A little less fierceness.  But because he's so focused on A-Mian in this memory, we finally find out that there is an entire piece to this incident that we haven't gotten until now.

A-Mian's grief.

A-Mian's recognition that he was there.

And the letter.

The letter she wrote a month ago.

A letter Li Xiangyi NEVER READ.

We get to see A-Mian's regret.  We get to see her grief: both for her own sense of shame at being unable to keep up with the man she loved, and her sense of loss over her own innocence and the opportunities that they'll never have now to make amends.  And we get to see her break from her grief for just a moment to rush down those stairs because some instinct in her just won't quit.

Li Xiangyi had returned.

And she knew.

But it was too late.  She no longer trusted herself.  And Li Xiangyi, having heard her outpouring of grief, had already decided that he owed it to her and to everyone else to just… walk out of their lives for good. 

And he did. 

But he owed her one last thing first.

He owed it to her to read the letter that she'd written him a month ago and he'd never opened.

So before he goes back to that beach, he returns to his rooms in Sigumen to retrieve that unopened letter and read it.

On first watch, I had assumed this was after his healing with Monk Wuliao.  That he was RE-reading that letter, not reading it for the first time.  But these are clearly his rooms in Sigumen.  The desk he conducts business from is at the bottom right and the table he confronts Shand Gudao from is on the left. But unlike when we usually see these rooms, brightly lit during the day, they're now mostly in darkness, the sun clearly setting given the angle of the light coming into the room. This is the sunset of Li Xiangyi. The last moments of his life, in a way.

And the letter is very VERY obviously unopened when he first takes it out:

And reading that letter is the final nail in Li Xiangyi's coffin, I think.  Final proof that he'd failed in every aspect of his life: being a brother, being a lover, being a sect leader, being a friend, being a student.  After this, he leaves Sigumen and goes back to that beach to lay down where he washed back up initially, ready to let the death he temporarily escaped take him away.  And when the monk saves his life anyway, he still manages to kill off the part of him that was Li Xiangyi.  Li Xiangyi is dead, he insists over and over and over again, until he believes it himself.

Because in that letter—a letter he left unread FOR A MONTH—Qiao Wanmian manages to show him that he never really saw her at all.  That he never saw one of his dearest loved ones in pain right in front of him—pain that he finally witnessed on the steps of Sigumen as she poured out her grief and regret in sending this letter to begin with.  How ironic then, that a letter she'd sent intending to set him free of her to fly up to the heights on his own, was the final arrow that brought him down.  I don't think that's what she would have wanted at all.

But I really feel for her.  I do.

Just imagine sending this letter and knowing that it's sitting in Li Xiangyi's mail pile somewhere… and assuming that he read it and that's what spurred him on to this last desperate fight.  Because in that outpouring on the steps that clearly what she thought she did.  She thought this letter sent him to his death.  And in that moment she's wrong, because HE NEVER READ IT.  Not until long after that.  Not until after this moment.  And fucking HELL, but that just hurts me.

Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything if he hadn't witnessed that moment.  Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything if he hadn't read that letter.  Maybe he still would have felt that he'd failed enough to warrant death of some kind.

But maybe not.

I guess we'll never know.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep3 Musings - Daniel & the Talamasca (SPOILERS)

I can see what the reviewers meant when they complained about the Talamasca & Daniel.

We start off with Daniel nervous AF, tryna keep tabs on all the mindscrewy shenanigans (at the sushi restaurant on his lunchbreak or whatever).

Today's... etcetc Cell phones, google -- Daniel, your handwriting effing sucks. San Francisco. Polynesian Mary's Playboy magazines as a doorstop? doorstep? |CLAUDIA| Mary's cab. Coke...etcetc. Alice. They'll come for me and Kate next--you bet your arse they will! XD THIS TIME I WON'T SAVE YOUR LIFE

He draws an arrow from Save Your Life up to Playboy--I assume cuz those are two incidents with Armand that took place in SanFran?

I really like the Omakase bit--

About how many risks Daniel's subjecting himself to under the whims of these vampires--but also about Daniel's hubris/arrogance breaking the rules of engagement by thinking he has any say over what they do and what he gets out of it, by stepping onto their turf. If you can't take the heat, GTFO their kitchen.

I'm only just now noticing the foreshadowed titles of Dan's books. 🤦 Burning & Blood--AMC swears they're hilarious.

OK, Raglan's been stalking Daniel's career just like Louis did. So my early suspicion about Daniel breaking the NDA was right.

Which is SO EFFING STUPID OF HIM. They're gonna find out! Loumand's literally drawing out this giant tragedy about what happens when vampires--Armand, specifically--are LIED to, and you're gonna pull this mess on them!? You're not even being SUBTLE!

AGREEMENT.pdf--Daniel, you in danger girl.

Raglan, stop tryna gas Dan up b4 they put him off commission permanently. He's no body-snatching psychic CROOK like you.

Get this nosey bish offa my dang screen.

Oof, right in the Devil's Minion feels. U_U

O__O WOAH!? OK, so aside from Dan (played by EB, a white Jew, along with JK) throwing shade at Caucasian European Israelis (which we been knew), he's implying that Armand & Louis might be persons of interest in the UAE by the Israeli gov't & assassins, esp. cuz of their ties to powerful people. But it's funny cuz that's the exact same thing Lou asked about him.

So Dan's telling the sushi patrons there's Israeli spies/assassins crawling around Dubai--STOP, b4 you get that place John Wick'd! XD

Not MI6. 😭 I said JOHN WICK, not JAMES BOND. XD

Raglan's gone full rogue then--if he was still working for the Talamasca he'd have darn near unlimited funds--they got that dirty TEMPLAR money. 💰💰💰

Yeah, and they don't actually call the Talamasca by name in the ep itself--only in the Insider interviews the producers give.

Daniel, why TF are you talking SO EFFING LOUD, when Raglan's whispering, tryna act like he's on the phone NOT talking to you in case y'all ARE being bugged. 🤦 SUBTLETY, my guy. What kinda investigative journalist are you?

I'm starting to suspect they're not gonna do the rockstar!Lestat, and instead this stupid Great Conversion's gonna be what wakes up Akasha/Amel, when their blood/consciousness gets stretched way too thin with all these new vamps being made.

To attempt an interview...? I believe that. We already know Marius & Lestat stalked Talamasca members for decades upon decades. Ain't no way NO vampire ever tried getting close to humans & talk about their lives to someone out of loneliness or something. Esp. the ones not attached to the European covens & all their stupid Great Laws.

Rest in Preternaturalism, Raymond Gallant.

BLENDERS! XD But this is THE most Anne Ricean answer imaginable, cuz everyone lost their ish when she had her vamps flying around with GPS-trackable cellphones in their pockets as they KILLED people. Rookie mistake. 😂

Armand was on a cellphone in S01E07, and he is LITERALLY married to his iPad, so PLEASE, sir. 🙄

There's Santiago's COMPLICIT speech coming back. Ain't no moral high-ground here!

And I figured Armand/AMC was gonna pin it on AMC!Lestat, and his jaded version the Savage Garden.

Armand says technology distracts humans from vampire crimes, but what's distracting vampires from psychic/Talamasca crimes, huh?

ISTG these are the laziest vamps I've ever seen; they care so much about their privacy & security, but aren't reading Dan's mind at all? I hope one of them just casually name-drops Raglan or catches Daniel in the act or something.

Raglan said Daniel's laptop was "comically vulnerable," and uploads a bunch of data files on it from the Bibliotheca Talamasca bestiary/archives--WHY? To help show Daniel he's helpful & trustworthy?

RJ: Omakase? Louis: The conversation was easy and flirtatious.... Armand: And combative. Louis: And combative, yes. Daniel: Arguing as foreplay. RJ: Peruse at your leisure.

I hate this effing show. 🙇🙇🙇

[queering-ecology]

Chap 12. Melancholy Natures, Queer Ecologies by Catriona Mortimer-Sandilands (part 3, final)

Queer Ecologies

‘what it might mean to inhabit the natural world having been transformed by the experience of its loss’?

‘[the queer artist's] natures are not saved wildernesses; they are wrecks, barrens, cutovers, nuclear power plants: unlikely refuges and impossible gardens. But they are also sites for extraordinary reflection on life, beauty, and community’ (344)

AIDS and Other Clear-Cuts

The artist (Jan Zita Grover’s North Enough) writes about moving from San Francisco, where she has worked as a personal caregiver to many individuals who were dying, and died of, AIDS, eventually to the woods of Northern Wisconsin and Minnesota hoping for ‘a geographic cure’ to her burnout and grief. (344)

‘in their persistence [grief, mourning], generate a form of imagination—an awareness of the persistence of loss—that allows her to conceive of the natural world around her in ways that challenge the logic of commodity substitution characterizing contemporary relations of nature consumption” (344)

“The north woods did not provide me with a geographic cure. But they did something much finer. Instead of ready-made solutions, they offered me an unanticipated challenge, a spiritual discipline: to appreciate them, I needed to learn how to see their scars, defacement, and artificiality and then beyond those to their strengths—their historicity, the difficult beauties that underlay their deformity.  AIDS, I believe, prepared me to perform these imaginative feats. In learning to know and love the north woods, not as they are fancied but as they are, I discovered the lessons that AIDS had taught me and became grateful for them” (344)

Rather than the landscape of her dreams, the land looks more like a candidate for reclamation. Through Grover’s research we learn that the region is one that been ‘systematically abused: logged several times, drained, subjected to failed attempts at agriculture, depleted, abandoned, eroded, invaded, neglected.”

Jack pines are predominant in the region; tenacious, ‘the first conifers to reestablish themselves after a fire” (16), in their own way remarkable even as they are useless for lumber, short lived, and not at all the sorts of trees about which adjectives like ‘breathtaking’ circulate” (345) they are a loud testament to the violence that has generated them.

“the diminishment of this landscape mortified and disciplined me. Its scars will outlast me, bearing witness for decades beyond my death to the damage done here” (20) But still: the love emerges, painfully, gradually, intimately. (345)

She experiences the landscape in terms of loss and change, rather than idyll and replacement. It is all personal; it is all about developing a way of making meaning that recognizes the singularities of the past and takes responsibility for the future in the midst of intimate devastation. (345)

‘Environmental hubris’—fly fishing, the introduction of non-native fish to the river, changing temperatures of rivers caused by logging and diversion; specific policies, politics, and technologies that have had effects on the rivers, the fish, and the other species throughout the river and the north woods (356)

A refusal to demonize the ‘invasive’ species; Grover herself is ‘invasive’ both culturally and personally (white settlers and big city imports) thus her ethical claim is not for purity but for an active and thoughtful remembering of historical violences in the midst of ongoing necessity of movement and change (346)

Seek relationships with Clear-cuts and landfills in order to bring to the foreground the massive weight of human devastation of the natural world; “a discerning eye can see how unstewarded most of this land has been. The charm lies in finding ways to love with such loss and pull from it what beauties remain” (81) (347)

“she does not romanticize the dying even as she might mourn their loss to the world; instead [through Grover] we witness each loss as particular, irrevocable, and concrete: she is their witness” (347)

Can we learn to see these landscapes as creation as well as destruction?

Rather than mourn the loss of the pristine, she carefully cultivates an attitude of appreciation of what lies before her, beyond the aesthetic wilderness to the intricate details of human interactions with the species and landscapes of the region. In this manner she comes to be able to find the beauty in, for example, landfills and clearcuts; far from naivete or technophilia, this ability is grounded in a commitment to recognizing the simultaneity of death and life in these landscapes, the glut of aspen-loving birds in the clear-cut, the swallows, turkey vultures, and bald eagles near the landfill.

--

It is necessary to face our fear and pain; we have to make room in our relationships with the natural world, queer and otherwise, for the recognition that that is what we might be feeling in the first place (355)

[wishful-thinking64]

One Hell of an Unpopular Opinion #07

I think how the Seven Deadly Sins are respected should vary depending on how sinful they are. _________

I'm going to be completely honest here. I think the Hellaverse's version of the Seven Deadly Sins are jokes due to how far off they are from their Demonolgy & Theology counterparts. With that being said, something the Hellaverse did get right is how Lust and Gluttony are often considered to be the two weakest sins out of the seven.

Lust is depicted as the weakest of the Sins because it's TYPICALLY the least malicious. As when people hear about a crime related to lust the majority will think of an infidelity having been committed. Does infidelity suck? Absolutely, you were cheated on by your partner with someone who either knew of the situation or with someone who’s in the same boat as you and didn’t know until it was too late. However, I would hope that most of us would rather hear/learn about one of our friends or family members having a partner who cheated on them over other lust filled crimes.

As for why Gluttony is seen as the second weakest out of the Sins would probably be how common it is to commit it and, again, it’s less malicious especially compared to sins like Wrath, Envy, and Pride. Think about it, you probably know at least one person in your family with a really bad habit related to overindulgence whether it be a raging alcoholic, a chainsmoker, a drug addict, or someone with Binge Eating Disorder aka BED (yes, Binge Eating Disorder is an actual diagnosis that many people have and struggle with in their day to day lives as it can cause them to eat excessive amounts of food even when they’re not hungry.) The point is, you likely know someone who has some kind of bad habit that they need to break and should get help so that they don’t end up digging themselves an early grave.

Now, back to my original point, having the Seven Deadly Sins be respected by least sinful to most sinful would make it to where we can not only get a good idea of what the Sins are like before we meet them but more importantly it establishes order and coherent world building which is what the Hellaverse’s hierarchy lacks the most. If I were to order and rewrite the Hellaverse’s Seven Deadly Sins it would be Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Mammon, Satan, Leviathan, and Lucifer.

That way lower class demons could be shown being less tense around Ozzie and Bee as they’re more approachable and sociable compared to other Sins like Satan and Leviathan. From the one image we’ve seen from the Hellaverse’s Satan, I can only assume he’s a tough bastard who would rather settle things in a good old fashioned brawl compared to negotiation. 

As for why I think a lot of demons would fear Leviathan more so than Satan is because of most how religious texts describe him as being some kind of giant sea monster (depending on the religion some say he’s a hydra, water dragon, or a water serpent) that could only be slain by God as there used to be several Leviathans but when God realized how destructive they were, he killed all of them except one. If God hadn’t interfered, the many Leviathans would’ve destroyed all of creation. 

So why did I place Leviathan lower than Lucifer when he sounds more evil than he does? Well, the answer lies within their intended purpose. Leviathan’s intended purpose was to destroy all who cross his path whereas SAMAEL’S intended purpose was to HELP not to HINDER. Leviathan was released into the ocean and was told, “Annihilate anything and everything.” Meanwhile, Samael was created and lived in Heaven as an Archangel who was instructed to assist God’s creations by watching over them, teaching them, disciplining them, and protecting them. That’s all he had to do but he threw away his title, his dignity, and LITERAL HEAVEN by letting his own hubris get the better of him. Truly, pride goeth before a fall (and apparently before a future name change.) _________

I thought that it'd only be fitting for my 7th opinion to be about the Hellaverse's Seven Deadly Sins. Also I don't hate the Hellaverse's canon Lucifer but I do think his character is a massive disappointment. There are ways to make a dastardly character likable without infantilizing or woobifiying them.

[see-arcane]

objectively the funniest part of frankenstein is that he didn't even abandon the creature, he went on a little stress induced walksie and when he came back BOOM no more creature. Actually I lied funniest part of Frankenstein is the creature going ''man my creator must think I'm an unholy abomination'' based on no evidence and then victor going ''man the creature I haven't seen in two years must hate me enough to hunt down my family and kill them'' ALSO based on no evidence. They meet up like "wow! you are really living up to my insane preconceived notions. This sucks."

The actual funniest part is that, upon meeting properly post-William and Justine deaths, the Creature guilts Victor into sitting and hearing out his tragic origin story and Victor is like,

"Man, I guess I really don't have evidence it was him that did the murdering and framing. That's my bad. I should sit and hear him out instead of judging him just on vibes!"

And then the Creature ends his sob story with,

"Yeah, no, I absolutely murdered the shit out of that small child (your brother) and cheered about it. Same with framing that hot chick (your nanny and family friend) in her sleep for being too hot and definitely bound to not want to date me if she saw me. Also, you have to invent me a girlfriend. You owe me."

And Victor realizes his vibe read was 110% accurate.

"This sucks."

And the Creature proceeds to carry on doing revenge-tantrum-Making Victor a Fellow Miserable Wretch plan while being 110% convinced that he is in the right and that Victor and his innocent loved ones have definitely for sure earned all of this very Luciferian and cool homicide

"This sucks so much for me, personally, as I feel so icky about the murdering."

"So? Don't murder anyone?"

"No, I'm gonna"

And then people for the next 200 years decided with increasing and worrisome lack of irony that Victor was the reeeal villain and the Creature was no more than an innocent baby boy lashing out at society..!*

*Society here not referring to literally any of the people who actually hurt the Creature, but instead entirely premeditated victims whose only crime was 'loved by Victor.' Which could have its own unique reads in how easily the story lens could have gone to the other half of the Luciferian motif--not hubris, but envy.

The Creature is alone, unloved. He discovers his Creator and his origins. He rages. He spies all these beautiful people in Victor's life; his true family. And when Victor refuses to make a custom wretch to be his companion, he rips Victor's family away, forcing Victor himself to become that desired loved-loathed counterpart. The Bastard Son VS the Loved Ones, plus a dose of highlighting how people aren't after Justice so much as a Convenient Target/Scapegoat. (RIP Justine, Victor)

But no no no, let's just stick with 'Too much science scary-bad! Pride and goals = family murder! Look at this dumb deadbeat dad suffer, ha ha.'

lmao

[wishcamper]

Heavy Lies the Crown: Rhysand, greatness, and the pressures of power

Or: the librarian’s daughter, former playwright, licensed counselor mashup of my nightmares dreams because I am vast, I contain multitudes.

No content warnings and no real HOFAS spoilers, I don't think, other than that he's in it but I feel like you know that by now. Spoilers for Breaking Bad (lol).

---

In working on my current fic (on ao3 here!) I've been thinking a lot about Rhysand and how he really goes off the rails in ACOSF and HOFAS. It's easy to chalk it up to poor writing, but I like the challenge of trying to make it make sense. What are Rhys’ motivations, truly? What would explain the vast array of heinous shit he does the text tells us is justified?

Rhys is shown over and over to be quite Machiavellian ('ends justify the means' dude, who was maybe writing satire). It's easy to list the times he shows this. The 50 year Velaris hostage situation. The bargain UTM with Feyre. The Weaver's cottage. Stealing the Book from Tarquin. CLARE BEDDOR. Infiltrating people's minds. Torture. Assassination. Allying with Kier. Concealing his wife's medical information. Being an ass to people in general. According to Mr. Machiavelli, any action is warranted if it the goal it achieves is morally important enough.

It seems like Rhys can justify anything to himself if he believes it will serve the greatest good at the end of the day. He does so many things with the air of “it’s for your own good” or “you’ll understand why one day” but that day never.. comes? Not yet anyway, which begs the question: is he that unself-aware, or is there a longer game he’s playing that all of these minor skirmishes are leading up to? What if he knows what's coming? And what kind of cause or threat would feel so great he could justify everything he does up to this point?

Okay I'm gonna talk about Aristotelean literary structure, please don't leave me.

The idea of a tragic hero is a character whose downfall is inevitable but who fights against it anyway. Hamlet is a classic example of a tragic hero, Oedipus being the de facto first, Walter White from Breaking Bad a more modern version. We see Walt learn he’s going to die in the first episode, in the middle he does a bunch of stuff to prevent his physical death (cancer) and metaphorical death (failure/obscurity), and then both his body and reputation die in the last episode as a direct result of his attempts to avoid fate. It’s blissful Aristotelean symmetry. *chef’s kiss*

Every tragic hero has hamartia, more commonly known as a ‘fatal flaw’. In Hamlet, his fatal flaw is procrastination, and his delays create space for all kinds of the fuck shit he was trying to prevent. It’s important to note that hamartia is by design a neutral term - not so much a flaw, but a trait, motivation, or decision that sets off the chain of events the character is trying to avoid. Tragedies have occurred equally from too much love as too much hate, and doing nothing is just as much a decision as doing something. The word itself comes from the Greek for ‘to miss the mark’. To try and fail, the backbone of tragedy.

One of the most common hamartia is hubris, a modern synonym for arrogance but which more specifically means an outsized belief in one’s ability to affect and control the future. Well-known tragic heroes taken down by hubris include our boy Walter White, Tony Soprano, Viktor Frankenstein, Achilles, Jay Gatsby, Kendall from Succession. It exists in real life, too: Lance Armstrong is a perfect example of a modern tragic hero brought down by hubris. And what do all these men have in common? Power, via money, fame, strength, the state, intellect, violence etc.

I’ve been enjoying looking at Rhysand through this tragic hero lens because while it doesn’t really make him more sympathetic, it does make his actions easier to understand logically, which is its own kind of humanization. If Rhysand is aware of a prophesied or fated event sometime in the future and is pulling the cosmic strings now, it must be incredibly important, like annihilation-level important, which is so much pressure. 

So he grows to maturity with an understanding that he will one day have to face this intense evil that could completely destroy his world, and it plants in him a hubris. He believes that his immense power grants him a certain amount of influence automatically. And honestly, is he wrong?

And this is where it’s important to think about how power makes people weird. Power gives people a false sense of confidence in their actions and choices, because their status and privilege protect them from so many more consequences. In this way it’s easy to see how someone can get a big ego - no one is stopping me, so I must be doing well! Or: everything is going well for me, so I must be really killing it! I know I feel that way in the first tingles of hypomania, but hypomania is fundamentally a distortion of reality and I believe so is power.

Power not only gives people confidence but also access to make decisions for others. They begin to think they should share the success they’ve found by leading and guiding others to see how great it can be if you do what they say. Just look at one of those cringe 'billionaire morning routine' videos to see what I mean. It’s a very patronizing form of altruism, because the leader genuinely believes they have the people’s interest at heart. And I use the word patronizing intentionally - leaders have often referenced feeling paternal towards their people, Winston Churchill + FDR, 'God the Father'. Power and fatherhood have been linked for a long time. And direct from our girl Wikipedia, "paternalism is action that limits a person's or group's liberty or autonomy and is intended to promote their own good".

I was talking with a girlfriend of mine recently about how I think some men don’t have the experience of other people depending on them in a significant way until they get married and/or become fathers. Like, afab and femme people learn very early to be considerate of others, to think about how others feel, to act in ways that keep others happy, etc. This plants in us a sense of duty to perform in ways that please others, to smile, to create comfort and provide caretaking in every environment we enter. So by the time we get to marriage and motherhood, we already know how to put others’ needs before our own because we’ve been doing it from the jump.

For men, however, this can be a completely novel experience. And it seems like it's SO HEAVY FOR THEM. George ‘Father of his Country’ Washington just wanted to go back to Virginia the whole time he was President. So many men talk about the pressures of being a provider and their families depending on them in a way women don’t, and I think it’s because for the first time others truly depend on them and they don’t know how to handle it.

In response, they either shove down their emotions as patriarchy demands and have a midlife crisis, or they abdicate that responsibility and go completely absent physically and/or emotionally to continue living for themselves. (Obviously there are good men and dads out there, and bless you if you’re lucky enough to know, have, or be one.)

And this aspect of power feels relevant because from the text it seems like Rhysand is unraveling. Between Feyre, the baby, the Trove, Nesta and being threatened by her power, Koschei, Bryce, the whole High King shit - I think he’s starting to crack under the pressure. And honestly, I’m kind of surprised it didn’t happen before now.

According to Aristotle, the tragic hero must:

Be significant (virtuous/capable/powerful/important etc.)

Be flawed

Suffer a reversal of fortune.

Rhysie boy definitely ticks the first two. I wonder what it would look like to get to three? I don’t think Sarah has the balls, but it’s definitely enhanced my reading experience and given me a lot of interesting things to think about.

Okay that's all I've got. Love ya, see ya soon xx

[randomfoggytiger]

randomfoggytiger's Fictober Wrap Up, 2023

My first Fictober has concluded; and I decided to throw together my entries, thoughts, and acknowledgements into one post for posterity.

*****

Fictober Fics

"The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully"

Mulder and Scully reunite in the afterlife, two skeletons dancing in the rain and the mud.

"Regardless of His Actions Last Night"

Queequeg, alive and savage, joins Scully on her Chinga vacation.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part I

Mulder and Scully are attacked and turned into vampires by Ronnie Strickland. Scully's crisis begins when her faith seemingly rejects her.

"Time Passing in Moments"

Post Fight the Future Scully brings Halloween to Mulder, determined to give him a break while they wait and wait and wait for OPR.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part II

Mulder encourages Scully not to give up on her faith, both of them choosing to face potential death by holy fireball rather than letting her live in fearful limbo.

"There's Something Up There Mulder"

Scully realizes that Tooms is likely a distant relation of the Gender Bender Brethren (Amish hats are mentioned.)

"I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself"

Metaphorical similarities between Mulder's supposed red-green colorblindness (which he does not have) and red-hot Phoebe Green.

"How Much You're Like Ahab"-- Mulder parallels his and Scully's crime scene eating habits to those of their cannibalistic pets.

"The Truth Is Out There-- But So Are Lies"-- Scully ruminates on her partner's ease with lying; and her ability to save him from Them and himself.

"Something Approaching a Normal Life"-- Mulder realizes Scully had invited him to (a disastrous) Thanksgiving to distract himself from the anniversary of his sister's abduction. He plans to return the favor.

"Preying on the Weak and Vainglorious"-- Post Sanguinarium Mulder ruminates on bad luck and bad ends; and Scully insists he's beautiful.

"Kids Today, Huh?"-- 2023 Mulder sinks into a slump after listening to a mopey song all day. Scully reasons him out of it.

"Is Being Made a Fool Of a Crime, Agent Mulder?"-- Mulder and Scully celebrate life, the dead, and all the Roadrunners and Wile E. Coyotes of the world. (My "happy birthday in a way, Mulder" fic.)

"We Need to Get Help"-- Mulder contemplates the glaring similarities between Gender Bender and Never Again and the new differences in his partner.

"We'll Think of Something"-- The Unnatural Scully grumbles over Mulder's tendency to run off into trouble. She goes, anyway.

"End of the Road"-- Mulder's peace after Closure.

"He Had Parents Who Loved Him"-- The Mulder family and baseball.

"I Think She Was Just Trying To Get Away"-- Scully reminisces on Mulder's distance and need for distraction post Monday.

"You Don't Know the First Thing About Me"-- Krycek has fixed opinions about the Syndicate, Mulder, Marita, and morals.

"My Religious Convictions Are Hardly the Issue Here"-- Scully and Mulder try to tackle her fears post All Souls.

"I'm Tired"-- Scully draws parallels between her Tithonus experience and Mulder's Sleepless and Demons one.

"Life’s Just a Path”-- If Melissa were alive post Fight the Future and Millennium, she'd never let her sister live it down.

"I Think He’s a Hard Kid to Love”-- Post Schizogeny Scully is sent on a case with Mulder to unofficially help Skinner's friends, one of which is a bear. (Prompts and artwork contributed by my two sisters.)

"Mulder Will Be Back”-- Jeffrey Spender sneers at Mulder's "hubris."

"Easy for You to Say”-- Post First Person Shooter Mulder is enamored with his little battle girlfriend.

"No More Paranormal than a Change of Wardrobe”-- Freshly-dating Mulder and Scully's lifestyles don't quite match yet; but the effort is worth it.

"What Must a Mother Go Through”-- Post Emily Mulder reasons Scully out of her Mrs. Peacock comparisons.

"Watch Over You Wherever You Go”-- One Breath Maggie remembers the many reinterpretations of her daughter's necklace.

"Your Ideas Are Weirder than Ours”-- The Lone Gunmen are woken by two very grumpy-with-each-other special agents.

"Doesn’t Make Him Less of a Miracle”-- AU Mulder tries to fight colonization and wrangle his "sea monster" child at the local ball pit.

"Sooner or Later a Man’s Gotta Face His Demons”-- Post Amor Fati Scully prods Mulder on a stakeout about his lack of Samhain hunting.

*****

My Thoughts

It's been a few years since I've committed to a daily creative project, but this month flew by. It was a joy to prove myself, in a way; and an even greater privilege to take other people's prompts and turn them into stories. I'm proud of the work I put in, proud of how they turned out, and proud that they entertained anyone who read them.

I did discover a personal writing flaw: grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. Which, given that I write and "edit" everything in under an hour and that my brain autocorrects and rewrites while I'm actively writing, is understandable. There are multiple reblogged versions of my finalized fics because I would spot an error and edit after publication but not before the readers hit. And that's okay! (When my Ao3 submission goes through, I'll upload each fic "in its final form", so no sweat there.)

*****

Trivia

Each fic was named with a quote from The X-Files, mostly from Mulder and Scully but also by various side characters (Phoebe Green, Krycek, and Maggie, namely.)

I tackled Scully's religion a lot this month as a way to work out my frustrations with her episodes: her belief in the series has always been chocked up as "yes man" syndrome; and I believe it did a disservice to Scully, multi-layered character that she is. I hope it did her a little more justice.

In a way, I dedicate "The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully" to @enigmaticdrblockhead-- whose writing not only influenced that piece but also sticks with me to this day-- and @perpetually-weirdening-- whose interest in an immortal Scully breathed life into this idea.

In a way, I dedicate "The Truth is out There, But So Are Lies" to @suitablyaggrieved: the discussion we had (concerning Mulder's ability to lie quite well) rattled around in my head until I put it down "on paper."

In a way, I dedicate "Something Approaching a Normal Life" to Baroness Blixen, who is the master of weaving angst and fluff into her holiday fics.

In a way, I dedicate "I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself" to @settle-down-frohike because it reads more meta than fic (while also reading as fic.)

In a way, I dedicate "He Had Parents Who Loved Him" to @television-overload, whose baseball fic inspired by Field of Dreams still takes up space in my noggin.

And I think that's all my thoughts for now~.

*****

Acknowledgements and Thanks

@baronessblixen for encouraging me to write this month-- another boost on the long list of encouragements you've given me~.

@agent-troi and @welsharcher (my Fox Mulder Singleton Club members) for their generous prompts. Truly touched by both of you: your loooooooong list, agent-troi; and your vibey suggestions, welsharcher.

@wexleresque for your vampire prompt (that was a fun fic challenge), and your "looking up at the sky" prompt (which challenged me to tackle older years Mulder and Scully.)

@stephy-gold for her Nessa Barrett song prompt (which I plugged into older years Mulder and Scully)-- I learned something new and tackled a genre that is not my favorite (songfic.)

@tossingmyglossymane for the post Monday prompt, which was more challenging to write than expected (and turned out great.)

@xxsksxxx for the prompt about Scully's cross necklace-- that was an initial struggle to nail down until I tied it back to Maggie; then it flowed~.

Anon for the prompt wanting Mulder to mull over Scully's words in Gender Bender (which tied, I thought, perfectly into his confusion in Never Again.)

Thank you to my sisters for the fall prompts that lead to Bernie the Bear (and another thank you to my younger sister who let me include her doodle for that day's Fictober entry.)

And thank you to everyone who engaged, liked, reblogged, and anything else! (I always like to dip in and out of the Notes section to see how each person responded differently to each fic-- a bonus game: make guesses and see if they're correct.) There are too many to count, so I'll just include a few off the top of my head: @dd-is-my-guiltypleasure, @amplifyme, @pianogirlxf, @scullys-scalpel, @teenie-xf, @agertiegirl, @improlificinsarcasm, @borogirl, @tofuttim, @mysteryness, @rosedyl, @spidey-is-tired, and others~!

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event