#along with some lingering cultural trauma

[stainlesssteellocust]

US diplomat: "Okay, so you bought some of Alaska's land from Russia, okay, okay. But...your people live on the other side of the world, and, let's be real here, we're too racist to respect you as equals. Why should we honour your deal with the Russian Empire when we can just...waltz in and annex your little home away from home?"

Tsalal Alaskan colonist leader: "Good question! Do you see this missile, this one right here, bigger than a train? Its warhead is filled with several tons of fuel-air explosives. Now, I'm not saying that we have a dozen of these things stocked on ships ready to fire at any given moment and a bunch of fanatical suicide pilots ready to fly them ludicrous distances into your nearest population centers...

"But I'm not not saying that."

[sanrielle]

I've been thinking a lot about Katara and her feminism vs. her desire to preserve her dying culture. Like I know that the SWT probably isn't as sexist as the NWT, but there are still a lot of enduring practices that have roots in patriarchy, as demonstrated by Sokka's earlier sexism.

So I think Katara would end up with an odd mix. She's obviously a staunch feminist who thinks girls and women should follow their own paths, regardless of what society in general thinks their roles should be. But at the same time, she can't escape from some of the subtler (and possibly more insidious) traditions of 'propriety' and the role of women as the homemakers.

[Obligatory disclaimer that I don't know that much about Inuit culture when it comes to these things. I'm purely basing this off of what is shown in the cartoon itself.]

Something that kinda goes along with this is Katara's necklace. To her, it's a symbol of her grandmother's struggle for independence, as well as a memento of her mother and the sacrificial love she displayed. In the NWT, it represented (at best) a romantic commitment and (at worst) a transfer of property. I don't think she'd associate hers with either, and she'd probably be insulted if Aang tried to give her a new one when proposing.

(I maintain that the necklace she wears as an old lady is the same one she had in childhood. The fact that it looks wonky in that one screenshot is nothing more than lackluster rendering.)

Anyway, I've gone a little off topic. I just think she's a really interesting study in how someone can rail against the negative parts of their culture that don't appeal to them, while also having an internalized fondness for some of those same traditions, simply because they are familiar and nostalgic.

Take Toph for contrast. I don't think she's the butch anti-feminine person a lot of people make her out to be. She just does what she wants. She's perfectly happy to go to the spa or wear dresses and makeup, but only if it's her choice to do so. She's railing against the repressive and oppressive culture of elite EK society simply because she previously had no agency over her life.

Meanwhile, Katara takes an active role in seeing to the physical and emotional needs of her brother/friends. And even though that 'motherly' role is largely a trauma response and something she deeply resents at times, I think it's also a source of comfort to her. Something about her culture that she desperately clings to.

I think a lot about her and Aang's life post-war. They would be very focused on reconstruction for years, most likely. Katara would have her own projects with the Water Tribes, but also spend a lot of time helping Aang. Some part of her craves the validation of appearing to be 'proper' concerning her relationship with him. Maybe she's a bit hypocritical about it: unwilling to wait until they've settled down to be intimate, but also reluctant to publicly break certain social 'rules'.

She keeps telling herself there's so much to do in the world, and maybe she feels this heavy burden to do as much good as she can before allowing herself to rest and slow down and create the family she's always wanted.

But then ten(ish) years have passed and suddenly! Baby on the way! Oops! Katara knows she's a public figure and cares a lot about how she's seen. She wants the respect of the people from her own culture. And so they stop. They get married. They settle down.

Katara becomes the wife and mother, which she definitely wants while also having some lingering regrets and conflicting feelings. She still wants to be a role model for other girls and women, but she likes not being constantly on the move and fighting people and playing politics. She likes getting up in the middle of the night to sing an old Water Tribe lullaby to her baby. She likes it the most when Aang is there because he's always seen her as an equal partner, not a piece of property.

Anyway, I didn't really have a point. Just rambling about my own headcanons. I've always put a lot more thought into Toph and Sokka's characters, but I guess Kataang has been on my mind lately. And tbh I never gave Katara the attention she deserved when writing fics, which is a travesty.

[olivescales3]

Legends of Chima Pride Flags (part 1)

I tried making them align with canon characterization and worldbuilding as much as possible. I took a little bit of liberties to speculate how they would behave in the future too, of course while taking into consideration the effects of canon events.

(do not remove the watermark; do not tag as furry)

Explanations:

Because we don't know if animals feel the same type of sexual/romantic attraction like humans do, the animals from Chima are *at least* on the aroace spectrum due to them literally being just evolved, highly intelligent versions of their predecessors. Chi was made by the Phoenixes, which do not reproduce sexually; Chima animals' behavior and anatomy is almost identical to those of the Phoenixes, since language, third pair of limbs, among other Phoenix traits were projected evolutionarily onto them; this thus leaves the conclusion that 'human' romance and sex is not a thing for Chima animals, since it's also non-existent for the Phoenixes.

Laval is shown, throughout the show, that he is a caring lion who was also willing to choose a mate in the last episode, which is why I chose the partnering aroace flag for him. He doesn't have a specific choice of the partner's sex per se, since there weren't any teenage lions for him to be paired with (and the show not being focused on romance; point being that all romance subplots were pretty forced), and him choosing Li'ella really felt like it was some kind of last resort, so I kept that up to interpretation.

Cragger being hurt by those close to him (his parents' death + Crooler using him), along with his overall discontent about his existence being possibly forsaken due to Crunket, his mother, having an affair with Laval's uncle, Lavertus, all at a young age makes me assign him the non-partnering aroace orientation. During the first season of the show, Cragger's mental state is extremely fuzzy and miserable for a tween; he willingly told Laval to kill him out of spite, then attempted to personally murder him by letting the lion prince drown alone— all of it while behaving and speaking in ways that showed his depressing anguish. However, even if the later seasons show Cragger as a childish youngling that barely has any care in the world, he's still pretty aware about other's wrongdoings; he explicitly called out Fluminox' selfishness— "you let your son escape because you were feeling sorry for yourself?"; and he made backhanded jokes against Lavertus. It's not like Cragger would consciously be non-partnering, but the lingering, instinctive trauma would make him not want to have a mate.

Worriz was an easy pick for non-partnering aroace. He's constantly described in canon as a cunning liar who is willing to hide his true intentions– that is, gaining tremendous advantage in power– beneath treaties and promises. Not only that, but in Legends of Chima: Laval's Journey, Worriz immediately turned against Cragger when he understood that he was not getting his hands on the 'Triple Chi'; in the same game, he was shown to not be afraid of threatening others with extreme violence, like when he straight up told Eris he would maul her after he got his hands on the Triple Chi. His horrible violence doesn't end with just words; he directed attacks against the Eagle Tribe TWICE: once by attempting to pull the entire Eagle Spire down, which would cause as many casualties as possible, and twice by setting the Eagle Library on fire and subsequently erasing the tribe's culture and discoveries from existence, an event that happened in Laval's Journey. Of course, he'd make an exception for Windra since they're both vicious and violent... Worriz' violence is not the 'cause' of him being non-partnering; he is, in general, a real and terrifying threat, and would take advantage of anyone if he could— he wouldn't see relationships as innocent and would twist it to gain some kind of power.

Crooler was a hard pick. It's not known much of her besides her using Cragger, but the reason behind those acts are shown explicitly in the show to be envy, and not personal like one would assume. She was capable of demonstrating remorse to a certain extent, and told Cragger a few times she loved him. The honesty of these emotions are not known, but the fact that she was able to show a less 'evil' side of her places her view of relationships into question. If she grows into a better person, then she might get into a healthy relationship, but if she continues to be cunning then she won't. This nuance made me choose demi-partnering for her.

[pearlescentpearl]

Behind the scenes for reborn! Maedros bulletpoint fic?

This is a rather unspecified question here, not sure what you want to know, so I guess I'll just ramble about some things that didn't make the cut for the fic?

One thing I didn't really get to explore in the bullet point fic is Mísrilya/Maitimo's relationship with objectification.

The thing is, canonically, elves and Ainur alike have strongly developed senses of aesthetic appreciation/attraction. Getting lost in the wilderness bc the view is SO pretty is something they do. Wanting to hang out with certain people bc they are SO pretty is something they do. The denial of beauty is treated like an insult/punishment. A significant part of the reason the Valar invite the elves to Valinor is bc they find them SO beautiful they want to keep them around, and I can't imagine this didn't have an effect on Calaquendi culture.

So there's already this... aesthetic appreciation motivation at the forefront of the Valinorian Ainur's approach to relations with elves. It's not quite objectification. But it's not not objectification either.

And Melkor and the Ainur cleaved to him are not immune to this either! They also love beautiful things! Even if that love is the toxic kind that revels in possession, objectification, and despoiling.

So what does this mean for Mísrilya/Maitimo who is a very pretty elf? A mixed bag, mostly.

People want to be his friend, and have his attention, and linger in his vicinity just to look at him, and these are all socially acceptable things in Quendi culture. He's an idol, but he's not really a person to half the people around him, he's just Very Pretty so people like looking at him. He's half an object, in the way popular celebrities are half object to a good number of their fans. So Mísrilya grows up accustomed to a certain level of casual scrutiny whenever he's in public. He's incredibly conscious of himself, and his self image at all times, but at the same time, his looks are an unfortunately significant cornerstone of things like his ego, his confidence, and his sense of self-worth. People like him so much because he's pretty. What is he worth to people without that?

And that's just when Mísrilya is Some Guy at Cuiviénen. When he gets taken to Utumno the objectification becomes literal. He is now a pretty object for people to look at, and play with. There's no more privacy. There's no more respect for his feelings. He is a bauble on a shelf and he is expected to behave as such even when people are systematically destroying him for their own amusement. He is a barbie doll to them. As you can imagine, this severely damages his sense of self, his sense of self-possession, and his sense of boundaries. Not even his name is safe.

And when he's no longer pretty enough to save his life, he gets tortured to death

Enter; his new life as Maitimo, and the cycle has started all over again with being Excessively Pretty. The same cracks get built into his psyche, except now it's Worse. It's part of his very name. He lives in privileged place predicated on being available for aesthetic appreciation by powerful beings. Plus, he's royalty now so there is never any escape from the scrutiny. But Maitimo does something Mísrilya never did, and that's weaponize his objectification.

And in my head, that's due to all the time Mísrilya has spent in Mandos grappling with the way people treated him for being pretty, both the good and the bad. As Maitimo, he seeks to exert control over it. You see that in how Maitimo takes a lot of modeling jobs for artists and college classes in order to network socially. Maitimo quite literally uses his face to get in doors and influence the right people to move the way he wants. He's in control of his own affect now.

He even, at his most desperate, uses this maneuver on Melkor to keep his attention off other people, even as Melkor reminds him of the trauma objectification has caused him by saying such things along the lines of '[being pretty/looked at is] all you're good for'. By the time Mahtan visits Maitimo in Lórien you see this toxic view has sunk claws in Maitimo when he makes comments about being useless, and needing to be good for something.

So yeah, I didn't really get to explore the objectification aspect of Mísrilya/Maitimo's character in this au to its fullest, but do know it is there from start to finish.

[90s-html-lesbians]

i feel like a lot of how beatrice’s parents are commonly protrayed in fandom, kind of a bit western, very black & white and lacking in context

before i elaborate, to be clear, i am not at all justifying or excusing any of beatrice’s parents’ actions, this is a critique of some of the fandom’s assumptions about them and their motives. this is a bit of a extended version/part 2 of the previous post about beatrice & her parents

what do we know about beatrice’s parents? we know that they’re concerned with appearances, involved with politics, well off, conservative, homophobic, and sent beatrice off to catholic boarding school because they’re homophobic

i see a lot of people treat the first bit as inherently negative and proof that beatrice’s parents inherently don’t care for beatrice beyond how she reflects on them, even before/without finding out about beatrice being gay and their homophobia, when, ignoring how often the way that i see that handled treads dangerously on playing into racism, specifically the dragon mom stereotype, ofc they’re concerned with appearances, that’s their literal jobs, ofc they’re concerned with appearances. especially since one or both of them is a person of color and they could also be immigrants, which would make concern over appearances even more understandable

and, aside from the homophobia, we don’t know how reasonable or how unreasonable, how lenient or unlenient they generally were about appearances when it came to beatrice

(again, not defending or excusing beatrice’s parents’ actions) as for the conservativeness and homophobia, well, white supremacist western influence made sure to hammer in that any kind of queerness was bad into non western cultures extra hard, so much that it is very much still prominent and/or lingering in a many many places, especially with cultural christianity being a thing in many of those places as well (thanks colonizers!!)

we also don’t know the degree to which they’re homophobic. (again, doesn’t justify or excuse it) they very well could’ve genuinely thought they were helping beatrice by sending her to a catholic boarding school, in their eyes it might even have been a sacrifice on their part for beatrice’s sake, sending their beloved daughter so far away out of reach in order to help her “get better”

although the implications most likely point to them thinking queerness is inherently wrong, there’s still the slim possibility that beatrice’s parents’ don’t even think being queer is wrong (you can be homophobic without thinking that), that they’re the well meaning type of homophobic that’s like “i don’t want you to be queer because this world is so queerphobic and I don’t want you to have to go through that” and/or “we’ll accept if you’re really queer, but please try being straight for a bit just in case this is a phase”

or, most unlikely but still possible, that, knowing how secluded boarding schools and catholic schools can be, they sent her off so that beatrice could be herself in peace without having to worry about having to tamp herself down for the sake of her parents’ images or her queerness being weaponized against her by political rivals or something

we only really have beatrice’s pov from the limited things she’s said about it like, two times, which doesn’t tell us much about beatrice’s parents’ full motives, pov & thoughts about their daughter being a lesbian, only that they’re homophobic to some degree, fucked up majorly because of it, and beatrice very much has the cool trauma that comes along with, regardless of their motives

lastly, i’d like to question the assumption that Beatrice’s relationship with her parents and their actions as inherently not caring for and/or hating beatrice, and their homophobia the big straw on the camel’s back moment which is why beatrice either has or needs to cut off her parents to actually thrive, because aside from how it’s very likely that beatrice’s parents weren’t black & white saints or sinners, even including their homophobia, how i see that assumption sometimes treading dangerously close to playing into racism, and is also a very western view of things (complete self independence is a lot more of a western culture thing, as is completely cutting off family, many other cultures esp asian highly value family a lot more than anything else), healthy relationships and forgiveness are different for everyone, especially as everyone’s situations vary.

healthy relationships & forgiveness depends on whether the good outweights the bad, what’s most important to someone, whether the other involved parties are genuinely trying to be better or not, what someone can take and what their limits are. healthy (or becoming healthier) relationships can exist without forgiveness and genuine forgiveness can exist without a healthy relationship or even a relationship at all

relationships can also just be mediocre, and that’s also perfectly fine as well, if you want to maintain it and aren’t risking yours or others’ health, physical, mental, emotional, or otherwise

[astrovagrant]

layers on layers. senna, a ghost moving through the void, docking to a ship adrift and dying in an area far too close to her own inherited cultural shame for comfort - what will she find? crew dead? crew gone? crew changed, and something terrible left behind after their metamorphosis? she knows how to protect herself from the null, the suggestion, the cleaving (not as in cut. as in... simply fall away from yourself, decohering as the sweet, inaudible waves - music - become all you could want, all you could ever dream of. not that there's a 'you' left to want, anyway)

and yes, there are corpses. some have the usual RCL marks, some with less standard injuries. there is also nearly a corpse, slumped over the pilot's interface, fingers barely cupped around the controls and breath so shallow as to barely stir the curls tumbling over the stranger's face.

are they a stranger, though? more importantly: that jacket. it's littered with patches and flash, locations ranging far and wide, a document and exultation of vagrancy - but the fabric, the color, the shape, which is a bit too big on this person's frame - a woman, now that senna can see the broken shape of them - she knows the jacket. in a rising wave of violent fear, she knows the person, too. she sees a young man in her mind's eye, grinning somewhat slyly at her from the side, blonde curls cut awkwardly short as he leans forward towards a ship's chemical balancing system. the jacket, unadorned, hangs a little loose on him, too, the sleeves shoved up around freckled, wire-corded forearms as he works.

this is not him. but she's... too big. too old. too... senna's disaster response works faster than emotion, a skill honed over more than two decades. she removes the woman (the girl, a missing front tooth with tongue poking through in a cheeky smile, lingers in her mind) from the console, moves her back through the nearly-zero g, pulls her so close so she can brush the hair from her face - a bloody, bruised mirror looks back at her. not the same mirror as senna's twin, lost to her now for over a decade, but a mirror that blooms hard vacuum in her chest all the same.

the jacket belongs, belonged to her love, also lost (or left behind, a sharp part of her reminds). but it seems like it has changed hands to its newest owner, who's bleeding out in her arms past the hastily-applied plast that's beeping urgent medical messages to no one. past the deep, gaping fissure on the front of her skull from which bubbling low-g rivulets of blood float - evidence of some horrible trauma that senna has no context for.

the experience kicks in. hand to side pack, stop the flow, apply pressure, remove bioplast, clear factory settings, apply to visible wound, allow for seal and feedback, clean area- it's routine. it's so practiced as to happen without thought. the freshly-applied bioplast exterior on the woman's chest is wet, suddenly, and it's not blood - distantly, senna realizes she's sobbing, glittering planets of tears congealing around her face and floating away to collide with everything around her.

another bioplast to the skull, the medical alert system going off like a geiger as it grapples with the finer details of brain hemorrhaging. the bleeding is extensive, but the low gravity and some other factor that the system cannot determine has kept most damage at bay. most. senna's body continues basic medical care; her mind is far away, viewing her actions through a dark tunnel. she cannot lose control, now. back to her ship. both of them. the thrust gravity will help the bleeding. then to the nearest station. now. move, now.

her body obeys, hands under the other woman's armpits, effortless movement through the float. the ship is too far gone, but... she will vent it, stow it, mark the location. it may be valuable, later, for someone. the weight of her new patient is nearly nothing as senna tugs her along, and the memory of a life she surrendered rises like bile to her throat. a foot on a bulkhead, and she sails through the duralock tunnel allowing the two ships to share atmosphere. airlock, closed, cycled. woman strapped into the awkward, cupped shape of the medical chair, and senna back to the controls. she has no time to spare, and lets the caravan software form a micronetwork to vent, hide, and mark the dead ship, accepting whatever synchronicity risk comes with her decision.

the other ship dealt with, she pulls away and starts the computer with the navigation to the closest station, then eases into full thrust. anxious, she returns to the medical chair, checks the plast readouts as the patient's blood pressure modifies to the new environs - too low. she needs more. senna sits, inserts a blood cleaner needle into her arm and adds one to her patient's, watches the rich red flow out of her veins and transfer over to the medical chair. the tears fall, now, subject to full gravity, and senna leans forward to sob into her unconscious daughter's bloody chest.

wyn's slack face now so poorly resembles the soft, sleeping look and round cheeks of childhood she had the night senna stepped out the door for the last time - distress and regret and a thousand other colors of loss and longing spill out into the white noise hum of ship systems and regular intervals of the plast beeping as it monitors vitals and the steady transfer of blood. her fingers comb through wyn's bloody curls, and senna leans in again to whisper a solemn promise into wyn's ear - not that she would remember. if she even survives.

after a time, senna pulls herself up and away, removes the needle from her arm. her body continues necessary tasks, mind subsuming to muscle memory. the ship speeds up, pushing the advisable medical boundaries to their limits. but wyn will make it. she must. there is no world senna will live in where her daughter dies before her - she's already lost her once.

[sophiethewren]

Sophia Wren

Sophie is a lot of things.

She's newer to this world She gets along well with animals She stares birds, waterfalls, and fire for too long She does really well at the first 90% of a project and needs help with finishing She is scared She doesn't know how the world will perceive her She lived in a cocoon most of her life and didn't mind what people thought of it She lives for creativity and curiosity She has a family history and loss associated with addiction She works very hard on things that come easier to others She sometimes needs more time to recover than one would think She gets shivers in her jaw when she hears a pretty harmony She cries when hearing about or experiencing others engage in their passions She's worried about looking like a man dressed as a woman for the rest of her life She's been burnt out for years She's tired in a way that sleep won't fix She thinks she looks cute in her glasses and is happy she got them when she started hrt She is still learning what it's like to be in the world without a veil of dissociation She loves her daughter (pup) She sometimes misreads situations and can be slow to respond due to the uncertainty She wishes she could say sorry to the people she's wronged or hurt She likes little boxes to hold little things She loves small acts of caring but struggles with large gifts She can be calmed with a blanket and warm drink She can be forgetful and distractable but when you have her attention, you have all of it She misses her grandma She likes corkscrew willows and cherry blossom trees She likes the feeling of linen and fingertips on her skin She feels best with at least some small physical contact when sitting on the couch She's lactose intolerance She knows how to drive a dump truck, heavy machinery, how to weld, pour concrete, build wood structures, make furniture, and work outdoors She taught her self to code and is proud of the career she's worked for She's tired She struggles to be a full time caretaker She needs quiet time to recover She likes fashion and enjoys modifying or making her own cloths but is still learning She likes to learn through doing, testing the boundaries along the way She's not musically talented at all but marvels at those who are She hasn't had any red meat in years and only misses fancy hotdogs She crushes hard and loves the best she knows how She is trying to do better but closes up when she is overwhelmed She can type about 60 words per minute She can place sights, sounds, and smells to past memories much better than conversations had She missing holding and being held She values all forms of intimacy highly She doesn't feel comfortable being herself around her parents and extended family She has lingering religious trauma that she's slowly working through She likes listening to history and geopolitical commentary while doing chores She misses her friends and going to social gatherings She'd like to travel to Europe one day, even dreams of living there for a while She gets dysphoria from her body/facial hair but not her voice She longs for a quiet space to herself, something she hasn't had yet in life She longs for the feeling of living alone, making her own decisions, not those based on others desires or needs She is dreamy and whimsical, sometimes making outlandish suggestions She's finally a person she cares about and is unable to explore that identity in a broader context She wrestles with the weight of being someone else's access to a comfortable life She's worried that she's overly selfish or that her perception of self is warped by her isolation She's got a lot to say if someone is willing to listen She loves to learn about other people, their stories, and experiences She loves trying new foods and learning about other cultures, particularly through their food She enjoys every season for it's unique qualities, often changing which is her favorite when asked She misses people she used to spend time with but isn't sure how to interact with them as her new self She's all this and much more But most of all, she's excited and ready for her new life

[vision-bound-muse]

More Kuki HC things: Not verse specific, just things that lurk or 900+ words of Rene rambling. This is a long post.

I hate the fact that is game is so vague, while simultaneously dropping small trauma bombs.

Her entire reason for leaving home is “I didn’t want to be a shrine maiden.” I… really think it goes deeper than that. I get that it is partially cultural, but even considering that it still doesn’t sit quite right. She says she got stuck in Inazuma when she went back to visit family but given the reaction to her seeing her sister. I really don’t think that’s quite true either and was just an answer provided to keep nosy travelers out of shit.

Kuki’s story quest really made me hate the Traveler and Yea on her behalf, that’s a ship that’s never going to happen here. I would be hard pressed to call it friends even and verges on a level of disrespectful behavior I have a hard time thinking she would be okay with… Getting.off.topic… If it was simply just about the shrines, there should have been a stabbing. (tbt it should have been a stabbing period).

Sdkfgsh

The mask was presented as a way to prevent people from recognizing her as a shrine maiden, (and also intimidate tf out of people) buttttt again half-truths, and she is hiding from her family. It is also a visual representation of that wall between her and everyone else.  

Shit only hinted at, again. I have thoughts, but I don’t want to linger in this headspace for too terribly long. TL;DR there are scars. Hence, Fortress Shinobu. She cares about Itto, that much is obvious, but he is very much kept outside those walls like (almost) everyone else she comes in contact with.

There is Shinobu and Shinobu presenting. They are both her to a degree, but really in? That’s specific to Caelus right now, thus discord thoughts for Jace along with some other things.

Less specific and mere rambling of theory crafting. Sorting, acclimating, expanding and so on. My brain is a pingpong ball, truly, which is why I dump these things here.

When I write her I get the general sense she feels like she does not fit in anywhere in Teyvats verse. Stuck kind of feeling… just there because she has nothing better to do than study look after a hand full of idiots. Which should feel like family but fuck it’s just not and its empty and forced. It’s babysitting in the true sense of the word, and I leave that bullshittery at the doorstep of Hoyo, flaming. You gave this girl a machine for a brain and ambition for centuries to leave her… a.fucking.babysitter. There will be none of that on this blog, she is a person with desires, and we will be putting that pretty brain and ambition to good use.

Direction: She will play up the responsible professional girl act because she full well knows that is what is expected of her and it is business. It has been drilled into the core of default Shinobu operations, but she is a rebel at heart. This girl is a runaway and the defacto leader of a gang which she has used to facilitate light organized crime.

To further, she is a Consigliere equivalent minimally and she is quite happy with this. Thus we will lean on that heavily in a less babysitting way and more of an I actively want to be doing this way. Seperate from the gang, because welp, that’s just done. There is just no room for growth there.

Problems? From subtle to brutal, it will be taken care of. She will use this to protect and provide for those she cares about, but also to quietly stir the pot. Bad little fingers there. This also speaks to some of the more negative aspects of her personality, a lot of interactions being very transactional. It is business, and she does look at it entirely as business at times. Additionally, it lets her have these special interest in a meaningful way beyond just a gaggle of lunatics. She will look to build her own little empire.

Knowledge: Varied per verse, but she is a quick learner and is going to look for things which can be useful from a problem-solving business aspect. Due to the force that is Itto and her mechanical role she field medic + she’ll quietly pull those bullets and patch you right the fuck up. Lawyering, given canon. The rest is tucked in that has nothing to do with her as a person and is just there to say she is smart without showing that she is smart. God bless you, Hoyo (in every sense of that southern fucking phrase).

Morally gray pumpkin: Kuki has her own rules. She is likely not going to stand for injustices or bullying. As she is self-sacrificing to a degree of insanity, she does not like to see people suffer without cause, being on the opposing side of that will probably be met with violence. With that being said, she is not above doing shady things if the job calls for it but do take care to make sure one is in the right before requesting her services as she is not going to have any issues turning shit right back around on people.

Personality and other junk: She likes a challenge, to be specific people that challenge those walls (or you know, just bulldoze right the fuck over them), and she does like it when people playfully mess with her. Earn that trust? She will give you unspeakable loyalty, but she also does not give up ground easily at the same time.

Society is dumb, expectations equally dumb. She is headstrong and aggressive, but not immune to reason and likes to be the one in charge.

What she is looking for is home and acceptance. Simple, seeing as she is very independent.

All things considered; this is what I want her to find.

[accentsantiago]

The Psychedelic Revolution: Discovering the Restorative Benefits of Psychedelic Drugs

For decades, hallucinogens have actually been the topic of a heated argument. While some view them as unsafe and possibly damaging, others are beginning to explore the possible restorative benefits of psychedelics. As the psychedelic revolution remains to obtain energy, an expanding variety of researchers are beginning to check out the possible healing benefits of these effective compounds buy ayahuasca online. Psychedelic drugs are a category of medicines that create extensive changes in consciousness as well as perception. The most popular of these medications is LSD, however other psychedelics include psilocybin, mescaline, as well as ayahuasca. These medicines have been made use of for centuries in numerous cultures worldwide, typically for spiritual and medicinal objectives. In the 1950s as well as 1960s, psychedelics ended up being preferred in the West and were utilized recreationally. Nonetheless, the entertainment use psychedelics was soon banned, as well as the medications were identified as harmful and habit forming. This adverse understanding of psychedelics has lingered for decades, yet recently, there has been an expanding rate of interest in checking out the therapeutic advantages of these drugs. Current research study has discovered that psychedelics can be utilized to treat a variety of psychological disorders, consisting of clinical depression, anxiety, trauma, and addiction. Psychedelics appear to be specifically effective in treating problems that have actually not reacted to standard treatments, such as psychotherapy as well as medication. In addition, psychedelics may also be valuable for those that are dealing with existential problems, such as sensations of meaninglessness or an absence of purpose. One of one of the most promising applications of psychedelics is in the therapy of dependency. Researches have actually located that psilocybin, the energetic ingredient in magic mushrooms, can be incredibly effective in helping individuals gave up smoking, in addition to helping people learn much healthier coping mechanisms for handling their dependency. In addition, ayahuasca, a traditional South American brew containing the psychedelic compound DMT, has actually revealed assurance in the treatment of medication addiction as well as anxiety. Psychedelics have additionally been utilized to improve the therapeutic process in psychotherapy. Research studies have actually discovered that psychedelics can raise empathy and also understanding, along with reduce concern and also defensiveness. This can develop an extra open and trusting healing connection, which can be extremely useful for those struggling with emotional concerns. While the potential healing benefits of psychedelics are interesting, it is very important to bear in mind that these medications are still illegal in many countries. Therefore, those that desire to check out the possible therapeutic benefits of psychedelics need to do so with care. It is essential to collaborate with a seasoned specialist or overview that can make sure security as well as give support throughout the process buy ketamine online. The psychedelic transformation is still in its onset, yet the prospective therapeutic advantages of psychedelics are urging. As even more research study is conducted, it is most likely that psychedelics will certainly end up being a significantly accepted type of treatment. For now, those that desire to discover the possible therapeutic advantages of psychedelics should do so with caution as well as with the support of a skilled expert.

[cookingupcommunity]

For the love of food

Earlier this fall, the "Cooking Up Feminism" participants were invited to participate in a workshop that was guest facilitated by Pakistani-Canadian artist, writer and trauma-informed healer + coach, Maya Nadeem. Maya was incredibly creative using effective methods such as ice-breaking activities, reflection exercises, nervous system self-regulation practices, art + talk therapy to gently guide the participants through a variety of emotional awakenings around their relationships with making, and consuming food. Maya was successful in fostering and co-creating a safe space with the participants, using culturally sensitive facilitation methods to ensure an inclusive and compassionate experience for all involved. Many of the workshop participants were engaged and responsive throughout the workshop, which is a testament to the creativity and seamlessness with which Maya leads her healing and transformational workshops. The self-soothing care practices shared by Maya resonated with the participants, and were designed keeping ease and accessibility in mind. Read Maya's guest blog below "For the love of food" written exclusively for Cooking Up Feminism.

Painting by Maya Nadeem

For the love of food" by Maya Nadeem

As a child I struggled a lot with my family when it came to food.

I was often forced to eat things that I had an adverse reaction to, in terms of texture and flavour. Being punished and force-fed, while getting other foods as a ‘reward’ set up a complicated relationship with food. Instead of seeing me as being me, with a sense of curiosity for my preferences, and respect for my boundaries, it was assumed that I was the problem.

At the time I was also not fully aware of how affected I was by the relationship others around me had to food. I saw the push and pull between food and individual, where pleasure and guilt intermingled. I witnessed how food became an invitation to bring people together and nurture belonging, and on the flip side how it was used to feed inner longings that were deemed best hidden and yet seemed all encompassing.

I picked up on subtle cues of how others used it to avoid their pain or to soothe themselves through it.

It set a foundation for my own relationship with food, one that has evolved and shifted, and still has a stronghold on me in some ways as it was the default for so many years.

It’s a complicated and complex adventure to delve into the intimacy of our relationship with food-the various ways we use it for connection, and for disconnection.

As you read along, perhaps you will pause and reflect on a time when you have reached for a certain flavour or food to reconnect you to a place or person or feeling, of belonging, or of a time when you felt fulfilled. Maybe you have looked towards food to recreate those sensations or to hook you in to a remembered state.

Or maybe, you will notice a memory nudging its way through of a recollection of using food to avoid a discomfort, or to distract from something niggling inside that feels painful to sit with.

We rarely engage with food just one way or the other. Usually it’s on a spectrum, somewhere between nourishment and indulgence.

For many of us we inherit blueprints for how we use food to connect or disconnect, from both our inner terrain and our external realities. Later, as we become more cognizant that maybe we have a choice when it comes to how and what we feed ourselves, those old relationships still linger, as often some of what we navigate through, is a reaction to old habits-we focus on what we don’t want instead of what we do.

My palate has expanded exponentially from when I was a child. A born rebel, I realized that I needed the space and the freedom of choice to explore. I’m still learning how to make choices that are gentle on my digestive system and body while finding ways to weave nourishment and pleasure together. As an artist bringing flavours and textures together in a way that evokes a sensual seduction of my own senses is prioritized, and as someone who is invested in her own growth and healing, I keep coming back to my desire to find my own balance with consumption of food.

Sometimes I’m right on target and other times, I’m a bit all over the place.

Which I’m learning is okay.

My preferred way to get to my desired reality and to help others towards theirs, is to be met where we are at with compassion and gentleness. This might not work for everyone but for me it has had the most profound impact, because beyond discipline what my inner-self needs most is curiosity and warmth to explore what is happening underneath the surface. When I address my challenges from this place instead of fighting with them I learn what would help me most.

I believe strongly that needing to bring healing and transformation to the relationship we have with anyone or anything needs to start with fully acknowledging where we are now while developing clarity on what we’d like to cultivate more of. It’s not going to be a perfect process, metamorphosis is tremendously messy. Bringing kindness to our gaze, we bring sensitivity to our investigation of the habits and patterns we’ve developed over the course of a lifetime. We learn more about what keeps them in place and find the tools and resources we need to process the emotions that emerge as our curiosity pokes and prods around, eventually turning towards rewiring our neural pathways by expanding our capacity for more of what we’re saying we want.

When I facilitate workshops or one on one work I use a process I created called the "Heart of Flow" method, using creative expression to process raw emotion so that what has felt unbearable or challenging to feel can be digested and metabolized, and to build a steady path towards ourselves. Recently I facilitated a workshop for a delightful bunch of seniors within the Scarborough Arts community. ‘For the Love of Food’ was an exploration of our emotional bond with food, to dig a little deeper into our psyche to see how we engage with this form of sustenance, to process and express the ways it contains our hopes and desires and our secret fears and conflicts through art, writing, somatic movement and dialogue. We shared boisterous laughter and tears as we came together into the underbelly of our entanglements in the realm of food. Shame, guilt and sadness were tenderly peeled back and collectively opened into celebration, ancestral roots and the resilience of community joyfully being proclaimed.

Part of the complexity of how we relate to food is how it functions where survival and gratification intersect, a tapestry soaked in colours and weaves found within domains of emotion and memory.

To transform our relationship with food into something grounded in intentionality we have to learn more about the ways we relate to it and what parts of us are being served by the current dynamic. Instead of fighting with the parts of us that want to maintain the status quo (because what we fight with fights back, and when that comes to our internal parts it can be very chaotic to experience) we inquire more about what it is they need and how we can help resource them in other ways so they can help us in our endeavours instead of sabotaging our efforts. What happens when instead of force we use understanding to lean into a new dynamic that helps us revolutionize our relationships, to ourselves, to each other and to the world around us?

However it exists in our lives, at its core it is an expression of how we relate to ourselves a reflection of some aspect of how we feel about ourselves and our place in the world. When we come with this stance perhaps as we move towards intentionality we will also be moving towards a tender sense of respect and belonging.

Portrait of Maya Nadeem

Maya is a trauma informed creative facilitator and coach who has been involved in community healing and support work since 2007. Passionately committed to her own healing journey and creativity, Maya created the Heart of Flow Method which she uses to design her workshops combining creative expression and somatic movement to help others experience joy in their lives while cultivating security in themselves as they gain tools to process challenging emotions and self regulate, building emotional resilience and a solid sense of self worth. She believes in meeting people where they are at, holding deep space for others while providing nourishing support that is both gentle and playful.

She offers individual sessions as well as group workshops for non profit organizations and corporations. With a BA in Sociology from U of T, she has trained extensively in creative facilitation, trauma recovery, somatic and embodiment modalities. Since 2012 she has been providing volunteer bereavement support at the Toronto Distress Centre as a grief facilitator for survivors of suicide and homicide loss and used to be on their phone lines for ten years as a Distress responder. She has worked as a workshop facilitator for Dandelion Initiative with survivors of gendered assault and sexual violence.

Maya finds joy and freedom by creating a life that spins together woven threads of art, movement, writing and wild laughter. Connect with Maya through her website: https://www.mayanadeem.com/

All of the recipes and stories we share in "Cooking Up Feminism" will be published in a unique cookbook by Scarborough Arts, available to the public in 2023, so stay tuned. Bookmark our blog and follow along. Thank you for your support.

~Mariam Magsi (Workshop Facilitator, Scarborough Arts)

[beginagaincolorado]

A LOOK AT MEN AND INTIMACY

Barriers exist that keep men from living their most authentic lives. One of those barriers is the idea that “real men” don’t have problems with intimacy. But many men struggle with intimacyand being true to themselves.

Ed Tilton, Chief Operating Officer at Begin Again Institute, sat down with Tom Gentry on the“Men Who Talk” podcastto discuss what intimacy is, why it matters, and how this topic is relevant to modern men and the people who love them.

Men and Intimacy

Intimacyis a closeness with another person. To deepen intimacy, it’s essential to talk about your feelings. Unfortunately, manhood as culturally defined discourages men from talking about emotions. Instead, when men hurt, people don’t want to hear about how they feel because it makes them seem “less manly.”

Sometimes men want to talk about their feelings, but they just don’t think it’s the right thing to do. Men should stop denying and start discussing their feelings to be healthier.

Ed said men come toBegin Again Institute to get treatmentfor their sex addictionandintimacy issuesand arrive with what he calls “emotional dyslexia.”

“There’s no connection between their head and their heart,” he said.

A lot of that disconnect, Ed claims, is the result of service to the patriarchy.

“It’s the idea that I’m going to numb that aspect of you that could be problematic to the bigger picture, and you have to conform to a certain way of being. You have to provide in a certain way. You have to love in a certain way. If it doesn’t fit, then you have to discard it.”

According to Ed, encouraging men to discuss their feelings is a big part of what happens at Begin Again Institute.

“We use different interventions to be able to help them really connect with that authentic self that is able to feel,” he said. “That’s how we’re able to help them develop empathy for those they’ve harmed along the journey with their addiction.”

How Intimacy Develops

Much of the way men approach intimacy develops during their first relationships, which typically are with their parents. That’s when people learn how toform attachmentsto others.

Men with addiction typically fall into one of two categories, Ed summarized. They either grew up in relationships where their parents withheld emotions or emotions were so overexpressed that they were abusive. In both environments, men learn to suppress their feelings and think of them as wrong.

Ed shared that men learn they have to get their needs met themselves because no one else is coming to help them.

“We start to get this understanding that people aren’t going to come. People aren’t going to care,” he said. “If I’m sad, people aren’t going to care. If I’m worried or anxious, people aren’t going to care. So, I need to take care of that myself.”

Some men take care of themselves and cope with past trauma through maladaptive behaviors that become addictions. Part of healing is understanding therelationship between sex addiction and trauma.

“The thing about trauma is that it has no timeline,” Ed said. “We start to really see how those traumas impact us.”

Lingering Trauma

Men carry the impact ofdifferent types of traumawith them and respond negatively when those feelings are triggered. This response is because they think they’re meant to suppress those feelings but can’t, so they have to find a way to cope with them. Ed described this lingering trauma like this:

“It’s emotional residue. Like when you peel off the label on a soda bottle and there’s that sticky residue. It’s like that. It clings to every one of your relationships.”

This lingering trauma negatively affects relationships, especially with romantic partners.

“You want a relationship to be able to grow with intimacy, but when you’re dealing withintimacy disorders the closer you get, the more fear exists in the relationship,” Ed said.

People with intimacy disorders respond by pulling away from people they start caring about. They have afear of intimacy.

Leaning on Others

Men aren’t intentionally trying to developintimacy issuesor even addictions. They’re just trying to survive.

“I think the reality is that everybody’s doing the best they can with what they were given, and nobody has it figured out,” Ed said.

Ed thinks that’s why people are tribal by nature and rely on community. He said people need each other because everyone is trying to figure out how to do the best they can in their unique situations.

That’s why, Ed said, guys need other guys. Not for fantasy football or softball leagues. Not in ways that are just surface and safe. It’s not even about having guy friends. It’s about having people they can really talk to.

Creating this community of openness and vulnerability people who understand is part of what happens at Begin Again Institute.

How Begin Again Institute Helps with Intimacy Issues

Begin Again Institutehelps people heal from sex addictionsandintimacy disorders. Counselors use the Trauma-Induced Sexual Addiction (TINSA®) model, which treats the root cause of sexual addiction instead of just managing symptoms. This process helps people process their trauma and learn positive ways to cope.

Begin Again Instituteoffers seven-, 14-, and28-day intensive treatment programsto meet individual needs. To learn more or sign up,contact ustoday. You deserve help healing.

Source: https://beginagaininstitute.com/blog/a-look-at-men-and-intimacy/

[ravenvsfox]

I simply have to write down my thoughts for anything to have meaning, so here are my awtwb opinions in no particular order (spoilers ahead!!!):

- the break up absolutely needed to happen, and also frankly it was very tasty

- "you're crying from simon/baz?" "the 'we’re not made of pieces that come apart' got to me"

- the last ditch effort sentimentality on baz’s part and ill-conceived sacrifice on simon’s........ such a lovely lil piece of angst. hurt stokes honesty and vice versa

- why did they get back together literally the next day though. it was like watching someone tear down an old condemned building and then OVERNIGHT an identical building has been rebuilt in its place. the dust hadn’t even settled yet. can we sit in it for like a minute.

- it definitely IS in character for simon to look at the emotional mess he just made and be like wait. I hate this actually. I’m immediately going to fix it despite the fact that I haven’t thought it through and have no plan :)

- this sure is a horny book huh

- actually very tonally appropriate that simon sees intimacy as too much to possibly grapple with. sex is easy when it's prescribed, and he's not really invested in it, but when he wants things very very badly he knows he can never truly have them. he can only host power or love or acceptance for a while before it's taken away.

- (something something orphan something something instability/insatiability)

- he always used to have one clear path, and now he can’t tease apart all his options. he wants everything or nothing. no embarrassing in-betweens, no gentle half-touches, no one foot in and one foot out of the magickal world

- also he wants to be manhandled and told what to do and bitten and consumed. sub behaviour

- every minor character in this book rules. ent bartender, butch legend niamh, cake-maker ruth, tracksuit fox. demon bear lady please wife me.

- sapphics kissing over the birthing juices of a fresh goat? come ON

- I think it’s fitting that goatherder agatha found her own productive, unconventional niche just outside of the place where she felt so constricted and misunderstood. like she wandered out of her ivory tower and found all of these sprawling open pastures

- shepard is so supremely & unbelievably likeable. so delighted and delightful. a mover and a shaker and a monsterfucker. spin-off when

- penny & shepard were also such pleasing complementary colours, and I like that they were both highly self-assured (in contrast w baz/simon's insecurity) and highly impressed with one another

- there’s a lot of awkward pacing in this book, which does feel (possibly by accident) like a testament to the non-linear, unexpected way that people deal with trauma. like it’s realistic that emotional pitfalls and relationship turmoil will always clumsily insert themselves into your “narrative,” you know?

- the demon bride storyline felt like a (super fun) short story nested within the book rather than an important element of the overarching plot itself

- some of the interpersonal groundwork laid in wayward son definitely paid off, but there were also a lot of superfluous plot points, and not a lot of fall-out/consequences? no real stakes (pun intended)

- so much good relationship stuff though! the communication is bantery and productive and tender and sometimes uncomfortable. it all feels like growing pains

- it’s so clear that simon’s innate sense of self is completely hollow; he’s petrified of self-identifying (and thus committing to a label which might turn out to be false again), and he’s afraid of smothering people with how much he wants and relies on them so he ghosts them instead

- the way he self-sabotages just for the rush of fixing things afterwards…. baby let me study you

- he constantly kind of has to reassure himself that he’s normal and also that he’s a Normal (this is what regular people do. this is what healthy affection looks like. And also—I have to remember that I don’t have or deserve magic. I’m not the person I thought I was.)

- he was the chosen one, and it turned out to be fake. and now he’s another kind of chosen one—chosen by Baz, by his friends, and later by the Salisburys, but he doesn’t really trust the sensation of being important to people anymore. he thinks that everything good he has or will ever have has been stolen or coerced somehow, and too much feeling is always inevitably going to be followed by total devastation. doesn’t that make you insane

- the excalibur thing was such a neat little piece of world-building (ancestral magic swords? yes ma’am) although I definitely expected agatha to have a hand in that reveal

- wings y/n?????

- no real resolution for the magic immunity. okie dokie

- I wanted to linger with that mage paternity reveal a bit longer. the upgrade simon’s daddy issues just received…… astronomical

- I liked that penny and simon had a little bit of independence from one another actually, because simon had to think through his problems like a Normal, and penny had to fact check herself when no one was nodding benignly along with all of her ideas. growth!

- a society of chosen ones? cult-leader villain obsessed with empty symbolism? mages seduced not by the promise of power but of acceptance and healing? delicioso

- the climax of this book lasted about twelve seconds, but I enjoyed the continued chapel motif, and the fact that every villain ends up being a shade of simon snow

- the conclusion for daphne, prof. bunce, etc, wasn’t super fulfilling, I was half-expecting a reveal that they were all under some kind of thrall, but since they were just like.. insecure and ostracized by their community, I wanted a denouement where their respective spouses meet them where they’re at, and the world of mages pledges some kind of fundamental change in attitudes/policies towards differing magickal proficiency. maybe! idk!

- so much pop culture in this book. (the yeets…… the vibe checks…..) this one’s going to age like milk, ladies

- it’s cute though! I like a book that is a little parcel of the time that it was made, and I like how un-embarrassed it is of itself

- I love the way all three couples had a really clear, “oh this is what it’s supposed to feel like” moment—the transformative potential of being loved the way you want and deserve to be loved

- so many fab individual moments that I'll think about for the rest of my life, and overall so indulgent and fun to read, but a little messy and out of balance for the final book of a trilogy. the end ✌️

[taylors-fourth-cat-meow]

ACOWAR Chp 4 :)))

This is long because that's how stupid this chp was. 😭😭😭😭

(This is the chp with the summer solstice)

Let's goooo

But what had not existed here a year ago was Ianthe.

Wait so you're telling me thats its only been a year since feyre said she was the happiest she had ever been with Tamlin?? When they had their first kiss??? Wtf and now she hates tamlin??? Look, i get he abused her and stuff but you just suddenly don't loose feelings for someone you plan to marry or idk...die for??? Thats what makes the abuse so much worse. You still have lingering feelings. This whole dynamic between tamlin and feyre is so rushed and let me tell you it doesn't look too good on rhysie. It only shows just how manipulative he really is. And how hes managed to change feyres entire way of thinking in less than six months. Someone needs to slap some sense into her and say that when you see a TOXIC PERSON you gotta WALK THE OTHER WAY.

"Cue that whole audio*

If I had wanted to paint a picture of serene purity, it would have been the image I cast that morning, my hair braided above my head, a crown of white hawthorn blossoms upon it.

OH MY FCK THE AMOUNT OF PICK ME-CHOOSE ME-LOVE ME- CHARACTERS IN THIS SERIES MAKE MY HEAD SPIN

SHES LITERALLY TALKING ABOUT PAINTING HERSELF AND HOW GREAT AND PURE IT WUD LOOK. AS IF SHE ISNT PLANNING A MASS MURDER LMAO

wondered if Ianthe could spy the wolf grinning beneath.

WTF NO SHES CALLING HERSELF A WOLF????? OKAY.....so now shes a dragon with smoke in her mouth/ a horse for tamlin to mount/a grinning wolf. Thats... interesting.

Well guys heres your diversity. Sjm doesn't discriminate between imaginary, domestic or wild animals 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

When my mate had rescued me after I’d decided not to go through with the wedding

Well there you go feyre admitting she is a damsel in distress that needs saving from prewcious mate 🥺🥺🥺

Way to write a feminist seires sjm 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

He had saved me.

There you go again...more of this first class feminist seires with your favourite girl boss heroine.

How many others had seen the truth of my suffering—and tried to spare him from it? Seen my suffering and done nothing to help me.

OH.MY.GOD (Janice's voice)

SHE'S SO FCKING SELF CENTRED AND SELFISH??????? ITS ALWAYS MY MY MY?!?? SHE REFUSES TO ACKNOWLEDGE TAMLINS TRAUMA!!!! BITCH YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO WENT THROUGH SHIT!!! HE DID TOO!!! AND ARE YOU LITERALLY ASKING WHY HIS PEOPLE PUT THEIR RULER WHO HAS INDEED BEEN A GOOD HL FOR CENTURIES OVER A GIRL THEY HAVE KNOW FOR A FEW MONTHS?????? HOW DOES- HOW IS THIS THE MC OF THIS BEST SELLING SEIRES?!?!??????

“As the light is strongest today, let it drive out unwanted darkness. Let it banish the black stain of evil.” Jab after jab at my mate, my home. But I nodded along with her.

Ummm...rhysie does indeed always show up at the SC to bother tamlin unwanted. And you literally about to cause a mass murder so yeah...you are evil....and do i again have to repeat myself about what rhysie did for 50 years???

Also...isnt this part of the ritual??? why is she assuming this is about the NC???

More prayers and rituals, until Tamlin was summoned to the other side of the altar to light a candle for the souls extinguished in the past year—to now bring them back into the light’s embrace when the sun rose.

This isnt really relevant but i just love this so much. In my country too at places of sacrifices and death there is a lamp (diya) always burning to honour the dead and i think this adds so much culture and meaning to the SC. What i dont get is that NC is main setting of this series yet...they have like no culture..no rituals on festivals?? Its just rich af people giving unnecessary gifts to each other and drinking wine and having sex in clothes made by dead moms???

Pure as day, pure as starlight.

I- does she- does she not realise that day and starlight are two contradicting terms...that dont even go together... I mean i am not a professional writer...but shouldn't it be day and night??? Or daylight/sunlight and starlight...and why is she even talking about day...isnt this dawn??? shouldnt it be pure as dawn?? Isnt she using thesans power??

A knight before his queen. (feyre about Lucien)

QUEEN???!?

I THINK THE FCK NOT

YOU ARE NOT HIS QUEEN BITCH. HE DOESN'T OWE YOU ANYTHING. IF ANYTHING TAMLIN IS HIS HL AND YOU SOME GIRL HE MET A FEW MONTHS AGO!!!!

No wonder she acts so entitled around him making fun of him ordering him around then demanding respect for her and the guy who called him rabble, threatened his mother multiple times and threw a head in his front yard for fun.

I let a little bit of the wolf show.

😭😭😭😭

Pls someone take the computer away from this woman i can't- ✋🏼

Also the symbolism is so bad😭😭😭

Wolf is always associated with the SC. Andras was a wolf...ig tamlin's beast form was also originally described wolf like...our miss archeron is now High Lady of the NC...shes representating the NC but she chooses wolf as her animal like what even does this line mean????? Is it because she is in the SC??? I am genuinely so confused..whats the significance of this wolf ?!?!?

I had no quarrel with the people of these lands, who had suffered alongside the rest. None.

Huh.

So she really is that dumb.

“I should apologize.” His eyes flashed. “What for? Perhaps it was a blessing. Magic still surprises me. If she’s angry, it’s her problem.”

(talking about ianthee)

NO PLS DONT I'M GOING TO CRY😭😭😭😭

WHERE CAN I GET MYSELF A TAMLIN PLSSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

He has learned from his mistakes he's trying to do better... And yet they don't even give him a chance because of one mistake?? That's... Not right you guys...

Also this is so FCKING FRUSTRATING. I mean isn't Tamlin an established abuser and an...if i may put it Sarah's words 'alphahole' *gags* at this point??? Shes already retconned anything good about him...so why go back to caring sweet tamlin??? Just continue with your new character!!!!

JUST MAKE UP YOUR FCKING MIND SARAH LIKE DAMN!!!

I didn’t know how Rhys had endured it—endured Amarantha. For five decades.

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE

BITCH DID YOU JUST COMPARE TAMLIN TO AMARANTHA ?!??!?!

hhdehsjdhdjkdkdn

Idk how i feel about feyre comparing tamlin to the women who has been objectifying him since he was a CHILD.

BITCH Are you forgetting that Amarantha SA your mate while Tamlin never NEVER touched you without your permission (atleast when he wasnt drugged by some magic)

Are you forgetting that you loved him and actually died for him?!?!?

Are you forgetting that Amarantha fcking ENSLAVED tamlin and his court?????

What even is this comparison?!?!?

How did this get published?!?!?

And you let Ianthe take him into that cave instead.

AAAHAHAHHAHA THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE

Just in the previous chp Lucien says he went of his own free will. So stop blaming Tamlin for letting lucien take Ianthee into the cave. Calamnai wasn't a SA. The whole setting of this festival and the disgusting sex maniac crazy omega world sjm has set it in blurs the line of SA. But it wasnt. Its the magic that chooses not Tamlin!!! Tamlin didnt let anything happen you bitch.

And also, why shud tamlin take part in calamnai...his fiancee who he is committed to has been abducted by the same guy who killed his family and SA her for three months. Why wud he want to sleep with random women while being drugged???

And yet you could stomach making a deal with Hybern, as if I were a stolen item to be returned.

Look right here, this is the manipulation of the readers mind. THIS is not healthy for an impressionabke mind. You know YA is a hit genre cause teenagers relate to the main characters but they shud also be allowed to explore it themselves. This doesn't let them. I'm telling you this isn't healthy. I hope to god you dont recommend this series and put anyone through this.

A stroke of his hand down my back was his only reply.

(his= tamlin)

Okay just to make it clear...this ... tamlin showing affection like this...we can say his love language is touch...cassian on the other hand... shoving his dick in nesta when he wants to show affection wouldn't really count as touch...it is in a way...but that way is just gross. M srry if i'm not making sense its literally 1:21am.

I nearly asked if it was worth it—if giving up this sort of peace was worth it, in order to have me back.

In 4 chpters i think she has mentioned this 50 times that tamlin made the deal to get her back when she was just a small part of it. Its like shes listening to what they are talking (the dialogues they speak) and yet refuses to acknowledge them or is unable to comprehend the depth of it...which just makes her all the most stupid and dumb.

The more chpters I break apart like this makes me think that her editors were on drugs lmao

[transskywardsword]

ive been thinking abt my boy so here are some adult post games oot/mm link headcanons

-- lost his eye shortly after returning from termina; he likely could have saved it if he just got proper medical attention after the injury but he insisted on taking care of it himself, leading to an infection that required what little was left of his eye to be removed. it scarred horribly, and he experienced major nerve damage in the area. he can't feel almost half of his face. he used to hide the empty socket behind an eyepatch but gave up on it as he got older. tells anyone who asks it was a nasty scratch from a wolfos-- it absolutely is not from a wolfos.

-- no clue how old he is mentally. time travel messed with his sense of self, and he honestly couldn't tell you if he was 15, 20, or 50. he struggles with involuntary age regression, somewhat from trauma but mostly because of lingering effects of using the ocarina of time far too often at far too young an age.

-- speaking of time travel, supernatural aging is not good for your body! he has severe arthritis and nerve pain, and if you were to see him naked you'd notice that his body doesn't look quite right, which comes from his biological struggling to keep up with the constantly changing time while he was growing as a child.

-- prefers bright colors and natural fibers; some people say he dresses childishly for his age, but he's lost almost all access to kokiri culture after his adventures. this is the best he can do.

-- doesn't talk, and rarely signs. the only people he'd ever spend time signing to were navi, tatl, saria, malon, and sheik. he was just quiet as a kid and it developed into severe selective mutism as an adult. he just doesn't like most forms of communication. he'd rather be left alone

-- agender. the kokiri don't really have a concept of 'gender'-- they're spirits after all-- so link wasn't raised even knowing it was a thing. he was deeply confused at being called a boy when he left the forest. it doesn't bother him per se to be referred to masculinely (he finds malon's 'fairy boy' nickname quite cute) but it does seem silly to him. he uses he/him out of convivence

-- aromantic. the kokiri are all siblings coming from the same deku tree's spirit, romance literally doesn't exist for them.

- doesn't get along with this timeline's zelda, which he feels a little guilty about. she's just not the zelda he bonded with, the zelda/sheik who lived with him through his trauma. she's a stranger.

-- being with malon makes him feel closer to the kokiri forest than anywhere else in hyrule. it makes him both nostalgic and incredibly homesick.

-- despite knowing objectively that the goddesses are real, choses not to believe in them out of spite. purposeful atheist

-- the idea of growing old terrifies him. seeing his body age terrifies him. he hates looking in the mirror. he has EXTREME body dysmorphia

-- just a sad guy. needs therapy

[cross-d-a]

Morai appeared in the Clone Wars season finale and I’ve realized that she symbolizes Anakin’s connection to Ahsoka

As we’re all reeling from the Clone Wars finale, I’m struck by the lingering image of a convor circling above Vader as he holds Ahsoka’s lightsaber. Since the convor is so strongly linked with Ahsoka I can only guess that it’s actually Morai and that this is where she begins to guide Ahsoka personally.

I’m sure we’ve all read meta about Morai’s symbolism as the Light Side of the Force, more specifically the Daughter from the Mortis Arc (especially since they share the same colour scheme). After Anakin helps the Daughter transfer her lifeforce to Ahsoka, the convorees begin to appear whenever Ahsoka is being tested. Filoni has even said:

"In some ways, I could say that it's a messenger, it's an observer. It is definitely something. And... I would rather have fans debate—but I would suggest... that whatever that thing is an avatar of has actually appeared in the animated Star Wars universe before. So decrypt from there."

This symbolism continues throughout Rebels where Ahsoka calls Morai by name, actually acquainted with the bird. Morai even leads Kanan to the Bendu when he was in need of guidance.

Ahsoka is intrinsically tied to the convor and through it, the Light Side of the Force. This lingering scene at the end of Victory and Death is absolutely so important, helping tie in the episode, and Vader as we see him, to the rest of the Star Wars universe.

Vader finds the 501st ship at last. We don’t know how long it’s been, how can we? All we know is that snow has covered the ruins and the carefully dug graves. We don’t even know if the troopers with him are clones or normal men. Silent and alone, Vader steps into the ruins. Eventually he stops and observes the wreckage, only to notice a glint in the snow. He bends his knee and reaches down. Almost gently, he brushes the snow away and discovers:

Ahsoka’s lightsaber.

He cradles it in his hand, brushing the snow away again with the other. Then, inexplicably, he flicks it on and we see Vader wielding a blue lightsaber for the very last time onscreen. Who knows why he turned it on. Maybe he couldn’t quite believe it was Ahsoka’s and that she’d lost it once more. Maybe he was testing to see if it still worked or if the colour was still that brilliant blue he tweaked it into.

Maybe it was one last goodbye.

But his gaze follows the point of her ‘sabre and when he reaches the end he sees Morai, soaring high above. He watches her for a long moment and this is when we see his eyes. Darth Vader’s eyes.

Anakin’s.

It doesn’t matter whether they’re blue or a sick-sulfur gold. All that matters is that we see them. We’ve never seen Vader’s eyes through his mask. In this one little moment, in Ahsoka’s lingering presence, we see Anakin Skywalker again.

It’s a clear parallel to Twilight of the Apprentice when Ahsoka destroys the side of his mask with her ‘sabre and Anakin leaks through.

Vader leaves and takes the ‘sabre with him.

It’s so, so obviously clear that he still loves Ahsoka in this moment. That Ahsoka still brings out the good in him. That this is, awfully, their final goodbye as they knew each other.

We always read about how Ahsoka and the convor are linked and how it’s really Ahsoka and the Light Side of the Force that’s linked. But I don’t think we’ve ever really seen anything about how Anakin is linked to the convor and Ahsoka.

The thing is, I think the convor also represents the link between Anakin and Ahsoka.

During the Mortis Arc, Ahsoka essentially dies. The Son kills her, inadvertently mortally wounding his own sister in the process. As the Father grieves, Anakin rushes over to Ahsoka and pleads with the Father.

“You must help her!” Anakin says.

But the Father only replies: “I cannot undo what is done. There is no hope.”

Despite dealing with his own trauma and insecurity and then, of course, eventually Falling to the Dark Side, Anakin has always been a hopeful person. We see this from the very first time we see him: a bright and cheerful slave who only wants to help others.

So of course Anakin pleads again: “Yes, there is. There’s always hope!”

Through his hope and conviction, Anakin convinces the Father to help, and so Anakin becomes the conduit through which the Daughter’s lifeforce is transferred to Ahsoka. As this happens, the main Star Wars theme rises.

This is so incredibly essential to the Star Wars universe, which has always, always been about hope.

Obi-Wan and Bail sequestered the twins away because of hope. The Rebellion rose and thrived and eventually won because of hope.

Luke saved his father because of hope.

Every single goddamn movie is about hope and the perseverance it takes to continue on, one step at a time, no matter how hard it gets.

The Star Wars movies have also always been about Anakin Skywalker. He’s the overarching shadow and the brilliant light in every single one, whether he’s actually in it or not. It’s called the Skywalker Saga for a reason. The only reason Star Wars exists is because of him. He is both villain and hero. He leaves behind a legacy that we can’t shake.

Luke saved his father, but only because Anakin had that little bit of light left in him. That little bit of lingering hope.

And we see it in the finale, in those few moments where Anakin holds Ahsoka’s lightsaber and she points him towards the Light, towards Morai. And we see him for who he is, who he was, and who he will become.

Anakin Skywalker has always been about hope, and because of that Ahsoka survives Mortis. Because of him, she survives everything that killed all the prequel Jedi. She survives the entire original trilogy.

Right after the Mortis Arc, Ahsoka gets kidnapped. It’s the first time she’s ever really been alone and forced to fight to survive. But she manages it, despite the other Padawans on the island giving up or succumbing to their fate. Again, out of everyone, Ahsoka survives. This is also the first time we see the convorees.

During this arc, Anakin is left alone, as well. Fearful and lost, he worries for Ahsoka, but Plo, the Master who found Ahsoka in the first place, guides him.

“What is Ahsoka’s strength?” Plo asks him.

“She is fearless,” Anakin replies.

“That can also be a weakness. Is she a worthy apprentice?”

“No one has her kind of determination.”

“Except you.”

“I’ll find her.”

“This may not be within your power.”

“Whatever you’re trying to say Master Plo, just say it!”

“I am suggesting that perhaps if you have trained her well, she’ll take care of herself and find a way back to you.”

This, again, is so, so important. “Except you,” Plo says. No one has Ahsoka’s determination except for Anakin. No one has her hope except for him. Ahsoka was already a wonderful, resilient person, but Anakin brought it out in her. He taught her, guided her, and now those lessons must guide her as she faces the world alone. This is only reiterated when Anakin and Ahsoka reunite.

“Ahsoka, I am so sorry,” Anakin tells her, clearly very upset.

“For what?”

“For letting you go, for letting you get taken. It was my fault.”

“No, Master, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve paid more attention. I should’ve tried harder. I…”

“You already did everything you could, everything you had to do. When I was out there, alone, all I had was your training and the lessons you taught me. And because of you, I did survive. And not only that, I was able to lead others to survive as well.”

This is, of course, a recurring theme throughout the Clone Wars and Rebels. Ahsoka perseveres and survives. She saves and guides people in kind. Ahsoka will always be Anakin’s Padawan, his legacy. She embodies all his best qualities, including, of course, his ever-lingering hope.

And that is one of the reasons why Ahsoka is so important: Anakin’s goodness lives on within her. Of course she is her own person, I wouldn’t love her as much as I do if she wasn’t, but being Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan shaped her into the woman we know today.

“You never would have made it as Obi-Wan’s Padawan,” Anakin told her in that very first movie so many years ago. “But you might make it as mine.”

That has never been more true.

If Ahsoka had been Obi-Wan’s Padawan, she’d be dead along with the rest of the Order. If she’d been Obi-Wan’s Padawan, yes she’d be skilled, and yes she would have learned to persevere throughout hardship— But there’s a certain passion for life and hope in Anakin that Obi-Wan simply doesn’t possess.

Ahsoka inherited that from him.

So now we circle back to the convor.

In various cultures owls represent death and wisdom. Filoni has even confirmed that in the Star Wars universe, it is the same. This isn't surprising when Anakin and Ahsoka are constantly facing off death and rising above it, becoming wiser because of it. And, horribly, I'm reminded that this finale is the death of them. They cannot be who they once were, and they cannot be to each other who they once were.

But owls can also represent luck and good fortune.

“Master Kenobi always said there’s no such thing as luck.”

“Good thing I taught you otherwise.”

All throughout her life, Anakin’s lessons and influence guide her, and after the Mortis Arc in moments of great struggle: a convor appears.

What I’m trying to say, I suppose, is that the convor not only symbolizes the Light Side of the Force. It also symbolizes Anakin Skywalker.

And maybe that’s because Anakin Skywalker does embody the Light Side of the Force. Despite everything he goes through and everything he does, Anakin Skywalker clutches onto that bit of hope and comes back to the Light. He brings Balance to the Force.

The convor lingers above Anakin at the end of the Clone Wars after Ahsoka has survived despite the odds. It appears again after their duel in Twilight of the Apprentice. Morai watches Anakin limp out of the Temple, and then returns to Ahsoka after guiding her back from the World Between Worlds.

After guiding her back to Anakin.

“I am suggesting that perhaps if you have trained her well, she’ll take care of herself and find a way back to you,” Plo told Anakin that first time Ahsoka was lost. And he’s right. Ahsoka does find her way back. Again and again and again.

She loves him. He’s her brother and he taught her everything he knew, and she survives because of it. Ahsoka won’t ever let that bit of Anakin go. She won’t ever lose sight of the good in him, or in anyone else.

“I won’t leave you,” she promises him. “Not this time.”

It’s more a promise of hope than anything else. A declaration of loyalty and determination and love. She still believes in him, and she wants, no needs him to know that.

So yes, we talk a lot about how the Daughter and Ahsoka are connected through the convor, but we never talk about how Anakin was that conduit in the first place. The Light and life flowed through him into Ahsoka and so she survived.

As she continues to.

And maybe the ending of the Clone Wars was unbearably heartbreaking. And maybe it’s still making me cry as I write this, but we know how this story ends, and we’re reminded when Anakin, not Vader, looks up into the sky, Ahsoka’s lightsaber in hand and watches Morai circle above.

Star Wars is about hope. It always has been. Despite everything they’ve gone through, there is hope for Anakin Skywalker. And there is hope for Ahsoka Tano, too.

[anyoneseenadam]

Home: chapter one

azriel x reader (acotar) 

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast. 

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also some for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing

word count: 2.8k 

a/n: this is the first proper fic I have written in so so so long and i’m legit nervous to post it so pls be nice, plus feedback is always appreciated. there are more parts to come, I’m not sure how many yet but i’m going to try post regularly! message me if you wanna be tagged and i’m gonna try figure out how to make a masterlist :) 

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The view from your window was beautiful yet haunting. Your eyes roamed over countless wildflowers, yet your stare would linger on a poppy or a Red Admiral butterfly and you were back there. You were tied down and crying, body and brain equally numb until another searing lash stripped your back of flesh, white-hot pain rushing through your body and forcing an involuntary cry to tear from your lips.

You quickly stood, wiping your hands down your skirt in an attempt to quell the memories surfacing, the ones you had desperately tried to supress since you had fallen. You quickly moved, all but running to the bathroom, needing to do something, anything, so long as it got you out of your head. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, looking exactly as you felt. The dark circles under your eyes from nights spent with hot tears flowing freely down your cheeks and into your hair and ears made you look ghostly, paired with the dull tone your skin had taken on, losing its natural glow. You looked as empty as you felt, a shell of the person you once were.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you quickly moved away, instead walking to the kitchen, the nausea from not eating overcoming you, yet the thought of eating just made you more nauseous. You found an apple at the bottom of a practically empty fridge and cleaned it softly, then used a blade to cut it into four, forcing it down, repeating the benefits it gave your body as you went, the basic information you had learned in your high school biology class, using the information to push through the sick feeling residing in your stomach, and instead focusing on the energy you desperately needed.

Your gaze drifted to the ajar door that led to your expansive garden, the cottage you lived in itself was small, but your garden was your pride and joy, your power sifting through all the plants in it, bringing them to life in ways of indescribable beauty, nearby animals coming to exist in harmony, safe under the care of their protector. But recently the usual vibrancy of the garden was dimming, the grass turning yellow and the plants wilting. There were no deer napping under bushes and barely any birds taking full advantage of the seed you laid out for them. You pushed past the door and into the garden, the plants brightening as you trailed your hands over their leaves. You found your favourite spot to sit in and dragged your fingers through the grass, smiling despite yourself as it visibly perked up, turning greener instantly. Your gaze trailed to a ruby throated hummingbird that had landed on the special feeder you left out for them, your breath hitching at the red colour, mind instantly returning to the dark, unable to tear your eyes away from the innocent bird.

The first thing you remember seeing was red, red water flowing like blood, red rocks beneath your bent knees, and your skin tinted red from dried blood seeping out of the wounds the chains around your wrists had inflicted on you. You sought to remember where you were, your mind drifting back to how you clung to Annabeth, your stomach aching from what must have been a broken rib, even as she was roughly pulled backwards, even as Percy desperately grabbed her, falling over the edge too, not quite reaching Nico’s shaking hand as he desperately tried to save you. You remembered been torn from their grip during the fall, a Fury hoping for a demi-god it could pick apart, you remember Annabeth screaming they would save you. But you don’t remember landing here, and you don’t remember the chains being attached to your wrists and ankles, or your shirt being removed, a choice you decided couldn’t mean anything good. However, you knew you would never forget the dark chuckle you heard behind you. Or the colour red.  

--

Azriel didn’t know where he was. He knew he wasn’t in his world at least, but that was as far as his knowledge went. He was simply tired after a long mission far away from Velaris and his family and had tried to travel through the shadows to his home. Yet here he was, farther away from home than he had ever been and absolutely exhausted. He stepped out of his shadows and had to blink as the tallest buildings he had ever seen came into view. He absentmindedly took a step forward, then another until he was roughly shoved into, a man with a thick accent he couldn’t place swearing at him. His head whipping around as he got his bearings and moved to follow the direction more people than he could believe were walking until the crowd thinned out.

With less people present he slowed his pace, hands drifting to his pockets when civilians stared, old insecurities that never really left him rising to the surface, and instead took the time to admire the strange world he was in. the fashion in this new world was vastly different to his own, groups of girls congregating in tiny shorts and tight tops, next to groups in which there were girls in all black and boys in skirts. There were men and women dressed sharply talking quickly to no-one in particular, with hands pressed to their ears, there were people in rags begging for money and there were people dressed in ways he couldn’t even fathom to understand. By the time he reached the end of the street he was sure he had seen everything, and walked onto a more recognisable street, one with smaller buildings, unlike the magnificent glass structures, made from stone and wood and with friendlier faces behind stalls filled with food he recognized along with food he had never seen before.

He made his way through the market, losing track of time, the initial anxiety he felt seeping away, if he got here, he could easily return home, right? Instead, he chose to focus on the culture of this new world, determined to tell his family of the wonder he had uncovered, faintly hearing different languages from people’s conversation, and music coming from the open window of what he presumed was a coffee shop. He distantly wondered if they could see his wings, as no-one eyes lingered the way he had grown used to, in fact it seemed they couldn’t look at them, he presumed humans in this world simply had a natural glamour preventing them from seeing fae, that being said however, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t spot another fae.

Eventually he reached the end of the street and decided he should return home now in order to stop his family from worrying, searching for a shadowed alley so as to not draw to much unwanted attention to himself. He walked to an alley that he decided would do the trick, excited to share this adventure with his family, but stopped short when he came face to face with a girl in a short skirt with incredibly pale skin and fire-like hair leaning over a passed-out man, sucking blood from his neck. She looked up when he approached and he saw that her hair was not just fire-like but literally fire, and her eyes were glowing red, and angry. More alike her then came out of the shadows, he quickly counted six, sighing as he pulled Truth-teller out of its sheath.

Shit. I am not in the mood for this.

--

You strolled through your favourite farmers market in NYC, the colours that filled the stalls always bringing some cheer back into your life, along with the thought of home-made meals and your practically overflowing basket, filled with fruit, vegetables, bread, and other necessities, but not meat, not since the animals started speaking to you when you first arrived at camp, and nothing red, you still couldn’t face that.  

You made a quick stop at your favourite coffee place, opting to get your drink to go, only making polite conversation when you had to, and smiling through any other interaction. You were soon ready to leave, basket and dusty blue corduroy jacket slung over one arm, cup in that hand and your phone that the Hephaestus cabin had adapted in the other, when you heard pained grunts and the cackle of a monster you wished you could just forget already from a nearby alley.

You gave a pained sigh, looking longingly at your coffee before chugging it and throwing the cup in a nearby bin, making your way over to the alley. When you got there, you saw an unnaturally dark alley filled with a gaggle of Empousa surrounding a tall, winged man who was fighting incredibly well but clearly hadn’t gotten the celestial bronze memo, as his blade was defective.

“Long time no see ladies” you said, smirking at the growls that tore from the back of their throats as they tore around to stare at you, recognition in their horrifyingly red eyes. “What no hugs, no happy reunions?”

“You.” The middle one snarled, lunging forward, only to be cut down by the thick, green vine you had grown, intertwined with strands of celestial bronze you kept wrapped around your wrists disguised as thin, looping bracelets, and exploding into dust which you nonchalantly wiped from your shoulder.

“Whose next,” you laughed as three of them leaped at you, two staying behind and keeping the winged man, who had taken to staring at you with an unreadable expression, occupied. You destroyed them quickly enough to see the man falter as one of the Empousa force their talon like nails into his side, twisting it and pulling it out. You rolled your eyes, moving to pick up his slack, wrapping the vine around its neck and pulling until it exploded into the fine dust. The man was on the floor now, clutching his side, as you stalked forward to the final monster.

“You know I really just wanted a chill day,” you complained,

“I remember you,” it hissed, smiling at you with razor sharp teeth.

You fought a shudder and forced the memories down, “I’m glad I made an impression.”

“They want you back you know, we never got to finish playing.”

You snarled and went to move, but it was too fast, and you realised your mistake in waiting too long as it released a piercing cry that must have notified monsters from miles away, “shit,” you muttered under your breath, killing it quickly and moving to the winged man’s side.

“Hey, any chance those wings are good at flying,” you asked, “cause we’re about to be swarmed and I really just wanna get home.” You put his arm over your shoulders and dragged him up, grunting under his weight.

“I-it, poison.” Was all he said, fully leaning on you.

“Shit, okay um,” you racked your brain for an idea, furrowing your brows when you saw monsters start coming around the corner, eyeing you like their favourite toy. The man looked up from beneath his thick, dark hair before cursing and tightening his grip on your shoulder.

“Just hold on,” he said,

“What? Wait no!” you shouted, clinging to his arm as suddenly you were engulfed in darkness, only to suddenly be blinded by bright, hot light, forcing your eyes closed.

When you opened them again, you were on a sandy beach facing an impossibly blue ocean. Your mouth fell open and you turned to ask the man some questions, (or yell at him you were yet to decide) just in time to watch him collapse, falling onto the sand with a soft thud, red blood steadily flowing out of his side, the blood draining from your face at the sight.

Shit.

--

You stared down at the man in disbelief for at least two minutes. He can shadow-travel. Is he a son of Hades? Gods know I don’t need another step sibling. Also, where the fuck am I? Why a beach? Is it LA? I might marry him if it’s LA. A million thoughts raced through your head as you stared at him, guessing that the unnatural darkness you saw before must have come from the shadows you could now see were surrounding him, protecting him from the light and, when you moved closer, you. From what you could see, he was handsome, if not slightly dead looking, thick, dark hair and a lean, muscular build. Wait dead looking? You cursed jumping into action, checking his pulse, relieved when you found it, before moving to his side using the knife you kept tucked into your boot to hack through the leathers he was wearing in order to reveal the gash.

It wasn’t wide but seemed deep as it was gushing dark red blood, you blanched and screwed your eyes shut at the sight, fighting the memories of your own dark red blood. You opened your eyes purposefully not looking at the cut as you used his torn leathers to put pressure on the cut and start dragging him up the beach to an area you could grow the thin vines you would need as makeshift stitches.

--

Azriel woke to an extreme discomfort in his side, in a place he didn’t recognise. He pushed up into a sitting position, wincing at the reminder of his wound, and looked around, finding himself shirtless, surrounded by trees on a sandy floor. A girl was sitting cross-legged, staring- no- glaring at him and he felt himself return a confused expression, vaguely remembering her as the girl that had killed the monsters that he could have sworn were completely invulnerable.  

“What are you?” She asked suddenly, her bluntness taking him by surprise, but before he could answer she continued, “I mean I’m presuming you’re some sort of child of Hades, given you shadow travelled, but I don’t understand what else, cause you’re defo not part human?”

“Hades?” he asked, frowning at the words he didn’t understand.

“Yeah?” she asked slowly, raising her eyebrows at him as if it was something obvious.

He scoffed, “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“Oh, is that so? No thank you or anything? I mean it’s not like I saved your life and I mean least of all I would expect an apology.” She was rambling as she stared at him in disbelief.

“An apology?”

“Yeah, for getting me stuck here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Fuck if I know,” she threw her hands up in exasperation, “I thought you know, I’ve done enough, I’ll let him find a cure for that poison on his own, I just wanna go home, so I decided lets get my bearings. I’ll find a high place and work out where I am, only to climb to the top of a fucking mountain and realise you got us stuck on a fucking Island!”

He slowly stood, bracing himself on a tree, as she remained sat, levelling him with an unimpressed stare. He shook his head, not needing to babysit this girl, and instead shot up from the ground, flying above the island to see she was in fact correct, there didn’t seem to be land for miles.

Suddenly, a sharp shooting pain went up his right side and he lost control of his balance for a second, all but plummeting to the ground.

“Yeah you shockingly haven’t healed completely yet,” the girl said moving to his side and pushing away his maimed hands from his wound, barely even glancing at the scars, “I have some ideas as to what will cure the poison, but if you want to fly away and leave me to die here, be my guest,” every word was dripping with sarcasm and he fought back a growl at her as she inspected his wound, were he saw he had torn the peculiar, green stitches.

He watched her carefully, not fully trusting her, as she inspected his stitches, furrowing his eyebrows when she significantly paled at the sight of his blood. “What scared of a little blood,” he instantly regretted the biting words when she snarled at him and put more pressure on the wound than was necessary, feeling slightly guilty given she had saved his life, but her attitude was infuriating, and he just wanted a hot bath and food.  

“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to stitch you back up, and then we’re gonna find a lake or some source of fresh water, you’re going to heal extremely quickly so you can take us back home and you’re not going to give me anymore shit? Kapeesh?” The stare she gave him could’ve rivalled his own in terms of intimidation, but instead of challenging her he just nodded, setting his jaw.

“Good. Now, nice to meet you, I’m (y/n),” she said reaching out a hand,

“Azriel.” Was all he said, meeting her small, soft hands in his rough, scarred ones, the difference in texture astounding him, still not entirely used to touch, and ignored the tightness in his chest when she offered him a cocky smirk.