#I'm suspecting it was food born illness

[arctic-hands]

I wish contact tracing was still a thing AND they were tracing every major contagious disease rn. Would love to scream in the left ear of the rotten pig who didn't wash their hands and gave me norovirus

[florbelles]

— OCS AS AESTHETICS FOR THE ENTITIES

tagged by @gwynbleidd, @chuckhansen, @inafieldofdaisies, @queennymeria, @corvosattano & @deputy-morgan-malone (that tumblr is willing to show me in my notifs), ty beloveds!! not sending out any tags since i'm so so so far behind and i think this has made the rounds at least in terms of the usual suspects getting tagged at some point, but if i am Wrong please use this as yours xx

aesthetics for the entities, part i. bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. this is based on a horror podcast; potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!

i. THE BURIED. weighted blankets. drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil & sand piling on top of you. hugging so hard it hurts a little. cramped hiding spots. letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool. walls pressing in on you. not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little. dragging the last second before you have to inhale. lonely subways. feeling like one with the earth. a layer of dirt on you. looking for something below. cardboard boxes & tiny pillow forts. hands calloused from digging. knowing that your purpose is just below the surface. entering your final resting place before it kills you. a storm drowning you out. dust & sand speaking to you.

ii. THE CORRUPTION. insects. a close imitation of the natural course of life. an illness in a community. a rag that dirties more than it cleans. an untreated wound. containment. breaching containment. unbreathable air. fungi. one with that you love. one with what loves you. a corpse unfit for a glass case. hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings & legs. honeycomb patterns. an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on. the hubris of a scientist. an ugly death where a glorious one is owed. blood on a handkerchief. parasites. something pushing up the sewer. a mask to keep something out. trypophobia. knowing you belong. death weeks after impact. fever. food that’s gone off. pandora’s box. death behind a glass.

iii. THE DARK. shadows. lights that turn off by themselves. the feel of cold marble. a beaked creature in the night. the difference between seeing darkness & seeing nothing. touch of something you can’t see. hiding under a blanket. white, clouded eyes. months without going outside during sunlight*. pouring dark. unscrewing lightbulbs. black matter. light sensitivity. a starless night. time before light was created. a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to. withering plants. a world without a sun. footfalls in an empty house in the night. a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should. desperate reach for a flashlight. clothes that hide your shape. staying unperceivable. winter months in the north. an empty church.

*in a bunker way, not a voluntary way

iv. THE DESOLATION. senseless pain. warmth of faith. wax where skin should be. a blazing fire. heat without a source. the third or fourth tragedy in the family. losing everything you’ve ever held dear. so much to live for, gone so soon. the smell of gasoline. touch that scars. coffee cup that never goes cold. scorch marks on wood. inescapably warm air. a child born in fire. death of a loved one. a candle without a flame. an altar in the middle of the woods. animals with burnt fur. plastic explosives. burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room. never touching a loved one. disfigurement. kiss that ruins you. the scent of burning fat. a tattoo that terrifies its viewer. the agony of hellfire displayed as art. auburn hair. little clothing in cold weather. a ripple in the air. trying to cool down in vain.

v. THE FLESH. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling. never quite happy with how you look. the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter. a very good meal. the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts. a twisted bone. long nights working out. more than one heart. appearance that shapes like clay. a bag of bones. bone broth in a pot. knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop. plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you. unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like. being admired for your appearance & appearance only. teeth marks on skin. scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity. fenced in with one way to go.

vi. THE END. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand. the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain. ivory dice. flatlining in a hospital. gambling with death. as old as the universe. soul & spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the pleas of a dying one. knowing the fate of someone you know & being unable to prevent it. a thousand cords tugging you towards your end. skin that’s freezing to the touch. an act of desperation. someone’s life for yours. an eternity spent alive. the cost of your selfishness. watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death. numbness to fear. words from someone gone. meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe. multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

vii. THE EYE. googling something you shouldn’t have. eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera. witness reports. hidden libraries. eyes of different colors. feeling of being watched. a death recorded in tape. a tragedy you can’t look away from. endangering yourself for knowledge. truth. analog records. a symbol of an eye. a watch tower. compulsion to document. turning on recording devices without thinking about it. saving the evidence before the person. extracting information. truth or dare, without the dare. a thirst for knowledge. books that speak to you. coordinated shelves. cataloguing systems. voyeurism. police report you can’t put down. reasoning your way out. smell of old papers. books that read you back.

viii. THE HUNT. sharp canines. sore calves after a run. the scent of blood. an adventure for the journey’s sake. the adrenaline right before the kill. a whistle’s echo. the woods. the doe eyes of a prey animal. your own breath in the air. sharpened claws. being tracked. fear of someone knowing your every movement. hunting down monsters. hide & seek. running away only to end up where you started. staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run*. a set of footsteps behind you*. blood dripping from bare hands. barks & growls. focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands. a mouth full of fresh blood. catching the scent of something monstrous. perfecting your craft. peering into the dark & running after it.

*she is the one who chases she is the footsteps behind you etc etc etc

ix. THE LONELY. an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets. waking up to see everyone gone. fog. point nemo. a house too big to hear your family members in. alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it. separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be. a blinding spotlight. the least missed in your friend group. streets without lights in the windows. isolation. not truly knowing your friends. your friends not truly knowing you. need for silence. fear of crowds. staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you. a ship alone at sea. depression. knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realise they’re gone. a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.

x. THE SLAUGHTER. a game of tag. senseless violence. a true crime hobby. improvised weapons. blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger. history books that spare no details. an injury you want revenge for. war. counting kills. songs of soldiers. a knifeblock on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock. unspeakable horrors. anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming. a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs. a weapons collection. not knowing the names of who you kill. too many to remember. loss of hope. there’s no heroes in war.

xi. THE SPIRAL. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallucinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories. distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish colour. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes & tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.

xii. THE STRANGER. wax figures. a close approximation of a human face. a borrowed appearance. a strange smell. glass eyes. furs & pelts. a dance. a song of a choir. the uncanny valley. stitching yourself together. the colours of a circus. a puppet with no strings. mannequins. glitter & sequin. a stranger you’ve always known. someone strange in the place of someone you knew. stolen identities. stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker. hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at. a faked accent. concealing. forgetting who you are. forgetting who others are. a replacement no one notices. images that look posed. the only one seeing the false face of someone.

xiii. THE VAST. open spaces. carnival rides going up & down. fear of heights. endless infinity around you. your insignificance in an universe. stomach turning at a drop. fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip. the sway of a cable car. an adventure holiday. losing track of where the surface is. miles & miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky & feeling like you may fall into it. loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears. a reach over the railing. a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith. motion sickness.

xiv. THE WEB. undecipherable code. a puppeteer holding the strings. power over the weak—willed. strings of fate. manipulation. an arranged accident. a hundred minions doing your bidding. cobwebs. spiders. a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater. doing things without realising it. red string across a corkboard. finding something lost where you were sure you checked. power over the unrealiability of chance. watching others dance for you. an entangled death. a thousand tiny legs & fangs. shady forum threads. something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case. a missing witness. connections. the world wide web. power of victimhood. gullibility. no control over your own decisions. an invisible leash. mass psychology. a horror film in the making. scapegoat. never remembering to ask for a name.

+ THE EXTINCTION. the end of an era. apocalypse movies. the alarms of warning systems. a desolate landscape. end of the world cults. nihilism. the last written history. a changed world. no survivors. old prophecies. a thousand predicted ends. a new chapter. an end with no escape. catastrophes. a calendar counting down. breaking point. overindulgence.

[loominggaia]

Now I'm curious what does Damijana think of people who were disabled from birth? Like how can they really blame them...

If you think Damijana's politicians are above blaming disabled babies for their misfortune, well you'd be wrong...These people are soulless, money-grubbing ghouls.

Actually they tend to place blame on the parents before anything else. Let's say you're a Damijani woman who has just given birth in the hospital. Your baby was born with significant disabilities. This has been confirmed and recorded by the doctors on staff, and now it is in your family's government records. These records can (and will) be accessed by government agents tasked with monitoring citizen behavior.

So, an agent is flipping through new records and sees that another baby was born with serious health problems. Uh-oh, this might make the empire look bad! This might draw attention to the toxic substances the government allows in the food and water supply, or the terrible pollution in the environment, or some other corrupt aspect of Damijani culture.

That agent begins monitoring the family of this child. They may contact the family and begin asking seemingly innocuous questions, but what they're really doing is gauging if this family is going to be a problem or not. Will they start investigating their child's illness? Will they uncover the truth about Damijana's pollution problem? Will they start insinuating that these things are connected? If so, the child disappears and the parents go to Good Citizen Camp(tm).

You suspect that pollution exposure is what caused your child's disabilities, but you dare not tell this to anyone. You know that if you do, you'll be told that YOU are actually the cause. YOU must have taken illicit drugs or harmed yourself somehow during pregnancy, and that is why your child is like this. It's not the empire's fault, it couldn't be! This is a utopia, after all! So the fault must be yours, and if there is suspicion that you're taking drugs, harming yourself, or otherwise acting erratic, then agents will begin harassing you and threatening to take your child away.

You could enroll your child in a special school, take them to doctors to try and improve their symptoms, and so on...but is it really worth the risk? These schools and doctors will just record more and more information, and more information on your family's record just means more opportunities for agents to harass you.

You decide the less time this child spends out in public, the better. You choose to homeschool them. You neglect medical visits. You forbid them from getting a job when they're older, and instead you support them until you die. All the while you keep them hidden away from the public as much as you can, because every moment they're outside is an opportunity for the agents to snoop on your family and possibly take unwanted actions against them.

Your child is an "undesirable" in the eyes of the empire. Their poor health makes the Eyes of Damijana (the agents) squirm in discomfort, because deep down, they know the fault is not really yours. This child is living proof that there is something seriously wrong with the way this empire is being governed.

So, you better hide that child's problems or the government will hide them for you. That is the reality disabled children face in this empire. They just get swept under the rug with all the other things the leadership is ashamed of, like its poor people, its drug addicts, its mentally ill, and its critics. Damijana would sooner execute every one of these people than admit they are the result of its own failure to run a functional society.

Damijana's leadership has tried very hard to create a utopian paradise for all red elvenkind, but somewhere along the line they lost sight of their cause, and their dream was corrupted into a dystopian nightmare.

You can see glimpses of this scenario in "The Shadow Sector" and "Call Me Jeimos". A red elf named Tarajeen is an Eye of Damijana herself, so she knows how scary they can be. She fears the scrutiny of other agents, so she strictly controls her child's behavior and doesn't let them express any discomfort with themselves or criticism of the empire. This shows that even the agents can't escape their empire's iron grip, because they have to police eachother as well.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

[detached-emotions]

02:30 08/28/23

Tonight, my mother and I truly connected during a conversation about space, which was a departure from her usual religious perspective. Recently, she's become more open-minded. After watching a podcast interview featuring a woman who had been to space, she became captivated by the story and displayed genuine curiosity about the subject. As a child, I often tried sharing space facts with her, but my efforts were always brushed aside. Throughout my childhood, she ensured I had food on the table, even during tough times, but unfortunately, she never sought to understand me. What I craved most from her was her time and attention.

The fact that she's now showing interest in my past passions brings mixed feelings. My mother remarked on how mind-blowing it must be to experience space firsthand, leading us into a discussion about its logistics. I informed her that only a small percentage of the universe has been explored, which surprised her. This led her to share her thoughts on the potential afterlife, a departure from the beliefs she might have adhered to in her religious bubble. It's possible that her inclination to talk stems from my grandmother's illness, making her yearn for deeper connections, just as I do.

In contemplating the afterlife, she mused about its nature. I hinted at my own theories but hesitated to share them fully, not wanting to overwhelm her. I hold the belief that the mysterious dark matter in the universe serves as a barrier preventing us from going beyond a certain point. Furthermore, I believe that if we were to breach this barrier, we'd discover that the entire universe constitutes a single entity—an entity of energy, devoid of a perceivable physical form. Yet, it is sensed through infinite versions of itself, simulated within every individual on Earth. This concept explains phenomena like déjà vu, astral projection, ghosts, astrology, parallel universes, and even maladaptive daydreams. This is precisely why I chose to tread lightly with this explanation.

Simultaneously, I was cautious not to arouse suspicion, especially because I had relapsed into substance abuse. Regrettably, addiction has been my coping mechanism due to the trauma I experienced during my early years. A second addiction took hold at the end of 2020, a response to the dehumanizing environment I faced in my retail job. My previous supplier supported me until her arrest in March of 2021. I managed a period of sobriety until connecting with a new source on 4/20/2021. However, this pattern persisted until 7/08/2022, when my stash was discovered by my mother. While our trust wavered, we reconciled after I promised to confide in her if my depression reached the levels of last December. Unfortunately, I failed to uphold that promise, succumbing to a relapse on April 4th.

It's likely that my mother suspects my ongoing struggle, but given the myriad challenges we're currently facing, she might be letting go to some extent. I can't fault her for that, especially since I've been far from an honest and responsible daughter. Fortunately, I've managed to maintain employment, defying the stereotype of a lazy addict.

My lack of fear for the repercussions stems from the fact that my brain chemistry has undergone irreversible changes due to substance use. I've come to terms with this, as I don't anticipate surviving my twenties. My perspective isn't born out of melodramatics but rather a response to the grim state of the world. The current environmental crisis and the economic struggles leave me living paycheck to paycheck. Without my mother's support and that of her friend, I'd be homeless. Adulthood has proven to be a challenge, and my struggles are compounded by my C-PTSD and the early signs of schizophrenia that are emerging within my fragile mind.

Interestingly, at my workplace, I'm perceived as a well-behaved and somewhat aloof individual. Little do they know... Sometimes, I catch myself staring at my reflection, practicing various facial expressions as a means of disassociation. I prepare my "mugshot" expression, acknowledging the possibility that I might need it for a photo opportunity in the future.

LISTENING TO: 🎶“You’re going to reap just what you sow” 🎶 Perfect Day (Lou Reed song)

I'd like to share this picture with you. I've HEAVILY edited it, but the original artwork was created on a brick wall that had been scratched and colored with chalk on Friday. The creator remains anonymous; I stumbled upon this piece on the side of a building in a shady part of town while I was running errands.

[lassieposting]

Can I ask why you hate the rich so much? I mean, I do get it, modern economics is an anti-human farce and I see what you see too, in my case I'm particularly furious about the state of agriculture/food, but the fury with which you call for the guillotines to be erected makes me suspect you must have worked as an Amazon warehouse slave for a while and been utterly transformed by the experience, or something equally appalling lmao

I hate the rich because I was born in poverty, grew up in poverty, and will spend the rest of my life in poverty. I'm stuck on longterm disability benefits because I'm too mentally ill to hold down a job, so I will never have a decent income. I spent my childhood watching my mom having to decide between paying bills or buying food, and I will spend the rest of my life having to deal with the same stresses. I will never be able to afford to travel, or go back into education, or do any of the things I dreamed about doing as a child. And I will never get to do those things because the wealthy has assigned me, and every other disabled person, the value of "worthless". They think all we deserve to live on is scraps, while they fight over whose personal trip to space happens first and gleefully buy their fourteenth megayacht they will never, ever use.

I hate the rich because they built this world to be the way it is. Openly, proudly hostile to anyone different. Unlivable for the poor, miserable for the disabled and mentally ill, aggressive for women, hostile for anyone who isn't white. This is the world they designed and it is bullshit. There are so many people alive today with such capacity for good, and the bastard rich block them at every turn. Greta Thunberg, they rip her to pieces. That little girl who designed the star-shaped polymer that pulverises cancer cells - who's funding her? Disney, Amazon - watch how fast they send their armies of lawyers to wage war on anyone who pulls back the curtain on their human rights abuses and tell me the rich aren't pure evil to their very rotten, mouldering cores.

I call for the guillotine because these sorry excuses for people have created a world where I will never get to have a life. My mom has never gotten to have a life. All she's ever done is work multiple jobs to pay the rent, and then come home and be too exhausted and burnt out to do any of the things that bring her joy. I call for the guillotine because they are systematically, deliberately doing everything they possibly can to bleed us dry, punish our compassion, and turn us against each other. We - the people - are being strangled by a weed named billionaires. I'm just in favour of ripping that weed out at the root.

[freesiablooming]

Marinated crab, persimmon and yeongjo

- simplified history of the throne and political rivalry of late joseon -

*this is an incomplete family tree of yeongjo. I only put names of people that are matter to this post or featured on the red sleeve on this family tree(yeongjo had more daughters and sado had illegitimate children)*

Yeongjo(영조) ascended the throne after death of king Gyeongjong(경종) who was yeongjo's older half brother. They were sons of 숙종(sukjong), the 19th king of joseon. I'm just gonna say gyeongjong as gj and yeongjo as yj here for it's quite long to spell them in english. (Gj, yj are not official shortened form). Gj and yj respectively partnered with the apposite political party. Gj with soron, Yj with noron. This rivalry traces back to their mothers. Their mothers were both concubines and enemies respectively partnered with different political parties. It was yj's mother and her poltical supporters that made gj's mother executed. So there was a tension between two brothers since they were princes and throughout gj's reign. Soron thought yj was a threat to gj's throne and wanted yj dead. Noron wanted gj dead and make yj the crown prince.

Gj ascended the throne at the age 34 after sukjong's death. Gj was obese, was always sick since kid. He had no children by the time he became the king. We are not sure if gj was really impotent like some politicians back then suspected or he just lived a very very stressful life. As gj had no heir, Noron daringly said to king that he seemed like have no hope for children so it is better to make younger brother yj the crown prince. This was beyond rude to the king. Normarlly this kind of rudeness deserve to be executed as a traitor. Yj too as he was with noron. Gj could have killed his brother but he didn't. Maybe he didn't hate his younger brother or it's because yj was the only male heir that can carry on their father's line for yj already had a son, prince hyojang.

Gj's reign lasted 4 years. At his final year, before death, he suffered from digestive issue for a month. Yj offered soy sauce marinated Crab (gejang) and persimmon to the king gj. Gj's symptoms got worse after that meal. Then yj ordered king's doctor to offer ginseng to gj. Doctor strongly objected with it but yj pushed it. After eating ginseng, gj looked better for a while then he died the next day.

Given the circumstances, people suspected yj assasinated his brother king gj. Especially soron questioned it. In traditional korean medicine, it is believed that eating gejang and persimmon together causes problems. They thought yj knew it and deliberately worsen gj's illness to death. Or some believed thst yj even poisoned those food. Well..gj was always sick so It could be because gj's illness was already too serious and has nothing to do with food. Maybe Yj sincerely loved gj and just wanted him to eat delicious food. Historians are still not sure. Maybe only yj would know.

Anyway despite the suspicion, no one dare to suggest formal investigation of the new king. But it was never forgotten. The rumor that yj poisoned gj followed throughout his reign. No matter how he tried to embrace soron or how he was generous to people, some soron didn't acknowledge him as the rightful king. Some radical soron even commited a treason againt yj. So this suspicion was like his achilles tendon. It was a threat to his throne. That is why he got furious to see marinated crab and persimmon in the red sleeve.

Gj's queen seemed to believe that her husband was assasinated. She and yj's relationship was bad. There is a conspiracy theory that gj's queen poisoned yj's first born son, crown prince hyojang and killed him. Yj investigated his son's death. few court ladies were executed but gj's queen wasn't officially appointed as the one behind this. Maybe attacking former king's queen especially when yj was suspected of assasination wasn't politically great move for yj then. Gj's queen died 2 years later mysteriously. There is another conspiracy that yj might poisoned her. We don't know if it's true. There is no evidence.

After crown prince hyojang's death, yj had a second son when he was 40 with yeongbin. It was crown prince sado, yisan's birth father. He loved his only heir that he finally had at old age. To prove that he's innocent, yj made court ladies who followed gj raise little sado. He had sado live where gj's queen lived. Little sado's meals were cooked where gj's mother used to live(remember gj's mother and yj's mother were enemies). Sado's wife lady hong later wrote in her memoirs that the place he was raised and the place where his meals were cooked were ominous.

Yj loved sado when he was baby. He was the only heir. he seemed bright when he was a toddler. but as he grew up, he hated studying. he wanted to play outside. He wasn't the perfect crown prince yj wanted. Yj studied and worked so hard for his life to prove that he is truly a great king. He wanted his son to do the same. But sado didn't act as his father wished. Yj started to hate his own son since he was just a child. Yj verbally abused him and got furious at everything sado does.

To make it worse, as court ladies that raised sado were gj's people, sado was taught that soron was right. He became close to soron. Remember soron was gj's people who always wanted yj dead and believed yj assasinated gj? Yj must have felt sense of crisis by this. In late joseon, there were so many poltical parties fighting like hell everyday. Yj tried to balance them. Yj really tried to keep privileged elite nobles in check and make policies for commoners. But since soron was so stubborn and noron was too strong, he had to stay partnered with noron primarily. After all, noron protected him since kid and helped him become the king.

Maybe Sado hated that his father being too close to noron. There was definitely political disagreement between father and son. And Yj's hatred and abuse towards his son got worse day by day. It was like psychological torture. sometimes even physical for everytime yeongjo got angry sado had to go outside, kneel and asking for forgiveness for days.

At some point sado got insane. Sado developed seriouse mental problems. He always lived in fear and paranoia. he became more violent day after day. It is believed that he killed more than 100 people. He even killed his favorite concubine and tried to kill his son with her. eunuchs threw their bodies and saved that little baby.

Sado was too broken. There is no way he could be a king. But.. his son yisan was a bright kid. The kid that could be a great king someday. One day sado's mother, yeongbin confessed to Yj that sado killed more than 100 people that he tried to kill her and that he was even thinking of assainating the king. She said she had to tell it to save the king and this dynasty. If he kept on living and did more crazy violent sruff, his entire family would have been executed as traitors including yisan. Sado was to late to be saved, but she was able to save yisan. So she chose him. Yj must have thought the same way. Yj was a king first then a father. He had to decide what's best for the country. The country needed a great king. Yisan was it and sado was a threat to his son's future.

So yeongjo locked his son, the crown price sado in a small rice chest and left him there in hot mid summer. After 8 days, sado died of dehydration, heatstroke and starvation. Sado's mother lived in depression after her son's death. In traditional korean funeral, 3 years marks the end of funeral. She died right after that 3 years. Some suspect she killed herself.

Sado's death traumatized little yisan. As noron was against sado and came between father and son, they did not wanted yisan to be the next king. They feared yisan would revenge them for his father. Noron tried anything to dispose him. Yisan had to endure a lot of pressure since kid. In his journal he kept before he became the king, he wrote that he felt isolated all the time, that he can't disagree with anything noron says, that noron treat him like a thing and that he's always anxious and worried. People even rummaged his stuff to find anything to make him look bad. He wrote that despite people who watch him 24/7, he had to keep journals so that the whole world would know later.

Hong jung-yeo from red sleeve whose real name is 홍인환(hong in-hwan) is yisan's mother's uncle. Hong clan was noron. They did not support sado when he was alive. Hong jung yeo was among noron that are against yisan. He did really say "the crown prince does not need to know about noron or soron, does not need to know about ministers. The crown prince definitely does not need to know anything about politics". Yj cried hearing it. At the end, all yj wanted was yisan to ascend the throne. So Yj protected his grandson. He made yisan the legal son of late crown prince hyojang, yeongjo's first son. To make sure the fact that yisan being sado's son wouln't make him be disqualified for the throne. Yisan became crown prince as the son of hyojang.

In the end, yisan fought off all the pressures, studied hard, worked hard and ascended the throne. He is jeongjo, the 22nd king of Joseon. His fight with noron kept on going during his reign.

[wildwood-faun]

I was tagged! Thanks @hermeticbridgetroll :)

Nicknames: Kot - started with a typo, ended up sounding rather sweet. Variations on Kit Kat.

Zodiac: Cancer sun and moon, sag rising. + a weird number of planets in the signs they rule.

Last movie: I honestly can't remember... Last tv show I watched was Hellier (and then I binged the semi adjacent Penny Royal Podcast and came to the conclusion that even disregarding the synchronicities, shit's fucked up in America)

Height: 167 cm (something like 5'5-5'6?)

Last thing I googled: a whole string of things trying to buy those things you put under rugs to keep them from sliding away

Fav musicians: I'm a little uninspired at the moment but I'm listening to a lot of Marika Hackman and the Spotify radio station based on the Psychic Ills' FBI (lots of droney psychedelic stuff)

Other blogs: The most active one (which is still not very active) would be @somewhereinfaerie which is a novel inspiration blog

Amount of sleep: I try for 8. Last weekend I slept a total of 20 hours which was amazing.

Lucky number: None that I'm aware of.

Dream trip: I really want to go to Ireland. Among other places I'd love to visit Clare Island where my mother lived before I was born.

What I'm wearing: Black boiler suit, black t-shirt, big boots, floral socks, teal corduroy sherpa jacket (omw to work in Denmark)

Languages: Fluent in Swedish and English, understand Danish and Norwegian, working on my French.

Play an instrument: Played the violin when I was younger (high five @hermeticbridgetroll!) Now I play the guitar and have a habit of buying various instruments in charity shops. This summer I bought a mandolin that's waiting for me to find the time for it.

Fav food: I for one am a fan of the bowl trend. I like having a bunch of different colours and textures in the same place. Some fave ingredients are cabbage, avocado and pomegranate. Chickpeas are proof that god loves us and wants us to be happy and nourished.

Fav songs: I'm bad at picking favourites so I'll just go with a recent discovery - Ocean by Alice Phoebe Lou

Random fact about me: I almost drowned when I was four and maybe that's why I am like this.

Describe yourself using aesthetics: a stone house by the sea shore, incense on the air, occult knick-knacks, strange lights in the forest, footprints that stop in the middle of nowhere, a melody you can't place

tagging some usual suspects if they're up for it @overelegantstranger, @bookhobbit, @highlybread, @starswan11, @cosmologicalhedgehogephemera, @havesomecompassiononmypoornerves

[justtogetthrough]

I spent 6 hours in the ER tonight to be diagnosed with food borne illness and offered no pain management for the first 5 of those hours despite me being balled up and crying in pain bc literally nobody came to check on me for 4 hours. At the 1 hour mark upon arrival is when I got put in a room from the triage/waiting area and I was like hey nurse I'm doing real bad bc x and y and she was like you're going straight to a room so I'm sure you'll be seen quickly. And then I saw no one for 4 hours except when I pressed the call button at hour 4 crying and having a panic attack and asking if I should just leave cuz apparently there's no medical reason anyone feels I should be there and she's like no no the doctor will come and I mean... he did... but not for another hour and a quarter and I was in 9 out of 10 pain alone in a hospital room crying for hours and literally nobody gave a shit. Adulthood sucks. I had just gotten up to grab my coat and leave when the doctor walked in to draw blood. And they have the gall to post signs in the rooms saying nurses will check in every hour during the day to check on pain, potty, position, and personal belongings "its called the 4 p rounding in the ED". I want to file a complaint and be like TELL ME WHY NO ONE CHECKED ON ME FOR 4 HOURS, AND WHY IT TOOK 5 HOURS TO GET PAIN RELIEF WHEN MY LITERAL PRESENTING COMPLAINT WAS PAIN ALL DAY FLUCTUATING BETEEEN 6 AND 10 OUT OF 10. As soon as they injected the antiinflammatory into my arm at hour 5.25 since arriva to triage the improvement was significant and the crying stopped and its like wow. I could have had this hours ago. I wasn't drug seeking. Fucking toradol is all it took, its not a narcotic, and it worked and I was satisfied and I want to know why a doctor didn't check in on my pain within the first hour of getting a room to see what I needed to function. That toradol injection at hour 2 not hour 5 would have made this night a lot less hellish and spared my neighbours from listening to me cry and hyperventilate for 30-40 minutes straight.

I am much happier to be crying in my own bed now than in the fucking hospital where everyone just ignored the sounds of a person in extreme suffering.

At this point I would rather die from some random medical misfortune slowly and painfully at home then ever voluntarily attend my local hospital man. It's literal hell on earth.

I'll go there for stitches when I'm not in medical need besides sewing up a wound and I can bring a book. But if I'm suffering in any way, the hospital is the last place to go. I need to restock my home pharmacy with OTC and illicit drugs and I'm self medicating from here on out. If I could stitch myself I would and trust me I've checked Amazon for suture kits. They seem suspect. Once I find a real kit with real tools, I will never step foot in a hospital again.

Ps, med students link me up with suture kits, I'll pay you for them. Amazon sells practice kits and idk if theyre truly skinsafe. I need what you use and I have 2 decades experience watching it done and am probably autistic and would research the fuck out of it and do it 100% properly minus the med school qualification. Hook me up please. This is a serious request.

This post is written on xanax and zopiclone and will form the basics of my complaint I will be losing with the hospital thanks. I need to ask my kid if he still wants to lodge a complaint about his mistreatment in November. We can navigate that process together. It's a life skill. Reporting concerns is not the same as complaining but the complaint process is necessary and it needs to be used when services are harmful and negligent and both of our situations warrant formal complaints and apology letters for mishandling our medical needs.

So that could be a tomorrow thing given I refuse to work after this week I've had so yep. Day off, boss can't convince me otherwise and likely won't. So reading up on hospital complaint procedures and connecting with my kid about whether he wants to do his too. His complaint was way more violating so I suspect he won't, but I think he should. Up to him though. People, institutions, etc all need to be held accountable and if they dont know we're unhappy or the whack shit their employees are doing, we are failing our responsibility to take part in social democracy.

That's my drugged up rant for tonight. I am upset.

[light-of-the-damned-stars]

Esuil looked at a harbinger blankly. Barad Eithel? An arrow protecting a silvery stream on a purple flag? What was so urgent that brought this Noldo to not the friendliest lands in the depth of winter? That’s hardly questions of trade and resource valuation although who knows how difficult supreme Noldoran’s position became due to the efforts of the fourth Feanarion.

“My name is Ringaro,” an envoy introduced himself throwing off the hood of a too light raincoat demonstratively and showing that frost is indifferent to him. Of course, is that some kind of winter for an elf having passed through Helcaraxe? This is youth Esuil, born in Endore, warmed by Arien’s rays, chilled and hid in a house with fire in a little stove, and Noldor of the Second House are persistent! “Urgent news from Hithlum.”

Esuel's wife brought papers and ink into a kitchen which served as both a meeting room and a library sometimes, thereby making it clear that Supreme Noldoran’s subjects weren’t the most welcome guests here and should leave, finishing their business hastily, and so be it, having a bite. After all, those who have passed Helcaraxe don’t care about bad weather. Ringaro sat down at a table without missing a beat, took from his bag his food and wine, his writing implements.

“I was also greeted extremely kindly in the Pine Kingdom,” the envoy said, “however they thanked me when learnt what had brought me”.

Hearing a familiar voice from the room Tyelpe went out to greet the elf for whom he felt feelings similar to those ones for Elendil: it seemed understanding but also inability to forgive. Ringaro greeted former friend’s son extremely politely and composedly and again turned his gaze to Esuil:

“An unpleasant story happened in Barad Eithel and it was decided to urgently warn everyone who took care of Atani.”

From a street, they heard shouting louder than wind noise that were requests to let them into a fortress on urgent matters.

“The fortress?” Ringaro asked amazingly.

“A palace,” Esuel explained proudly.

“Let them in,” the envoy said seriously. “They seem to be able to speak, so let give me their attention. If they don’t understand something then explain in such a way that everyone can understand what is required of them.

Tyelpe watched after faithful King Findarato who went to meet visitors, listened to voices from below. Yes, Firyar probably think they speak very well in Elvish. Well, there’s no point in upsetting them – they’ll may learn more. Footsteps began to get close but specific smell flew into the kitchen a little earlier than mortals themselves did.

“Sirs elves!” an young dark-haired, short man with sparkling curious eyes who entered first bowed looking at delightedly with devoted eyes. “My brothers met alone on a shore! He doesn’t look like an enemy but he doesn’t say anything about himself although he can. They brought him to me so that I could decide what to do but I don't know. I’d like to consult with nomes.”

Two fellows who entered after him pushed the third forward. Ringaro saw from his eyes immediately who was literate and who wasn’t. Oddly enough, the one who was suspected of something looked more well-read than all the others put together. Therefore, they don’t like him or what?

“First, listen to me,” the envoy interrupted Esuil who tried to start talking. “In Barad Eithel, a great stronghold in the north, shining spires on white-stone towers of which rush into the heavens,” the elf looked leerily at the displeasedly hissing wife of the owner of the “palace” and admired mortals, “a terrible tragedy occurred, unprecedented and unheard of before! In addition, a reason for this, sadly, was Creator’s Younger Children. Yes, yes, I'm talking about your tribe, Atani.”

“This is Beor, the head of a village,” Esuil explained sitting down at the table and pointing to all four mortals to a free bench, “and his fellow tribesmen”.

“Glad to meet you, Beor,” the envoy sighed sadly, “I am Ringaro, a great jeweler and an explorer of the Shadowlands. I have hundreds of thousands of discoveries on my account!” Seeing that Firyar didn’t fully understand what was said but beforehand they believed everything admiringly, the elf could hardly restrain his laughter. “And I, so great Amanelda, had to quit my favorite job and rush through snow drifts suffering from cold and hunger to report terrible misfortune that befell all of us due to stupidity of your tribesmen.”

The mortals all as one turned pale and nervous. Noldo satisfied with effect produced and began to speak in a very sad voice:

“Tell me, younger brother, how many wives should a husband have?”

Beor like many others, who dreamed of a hundred her-elves in his bed after defeating Morgoth, blushed and dropped his eyes.

“I knew it,” Ringaro shook his head, Esuil’s wife turned to a window without keeping from smiling. “Morgoth distorted each of you making to want two, three, four women! Moreover, what then? Then desires begin that are completely incomprehensible to normal mind! Women get bored and the man goes to another man's bed! Then something terrible happens! After such intercourse, both distorted men fall ill but continue to copulate with many women frantically, and those, in turn, getting infected, transmit a disease to their lovers, give birth to children already afflicted with a vile ailment! This is the terrible disease, brothers! The body rots alive from it, and a pain is unbearable! There is no cure for such a disaster, so the only chance to survive is to be faithful to your woman only! The only one! To the woman! https://ficbook.net/readfic/6544987