#and this purpose would be in the case of his kingdom to serve him first as their king

[oldestking]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤPurpose is glorious .

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! Part 2 of Merlin refuses to leave Camelot after a magic reveal won the latest poll, so here we go! I hope you all enjoy this continuation! :D

NOTE: You can find part one here.

Without further ado, onto the story!

For the first time in what must have been several years, Arthur recalled the dolls that Morgana used to play with when she first moved into the castle.

They were well-made dolls, crafted with fine cloth and neat stitching, but they were also well-worn from Morgana carrying them around with her, hugging them close for comfort wherever she went in the unfamiliar castle.

Arthur could remember scoffing at Morgana when he had seen her playing with the dolls in her new room, imagining names and lives for each of them and moving them around to play out whatever story she wished.

If his memories served correctly, Arthur believed that that was one of the first fights he got into with Morgana, after he had taunted and teased her for playing with those dolls. He had called it a stupid little game, only fit for girls.

As he watched Merlin Emrys go about his days exactly as he had for the past ten years, acting for all intents and purposes like nothing had changed at all and that he was just an ordinary human servant, Arthur was disturbingly reminded of Morgana playing with her dolls, moving them around this way and that and having complete control over their lives, their very reality. The irony of the comparison wasn't lost of Arthur either, given how many times he had also teased Merlin about being a girl.

Perhaps this was a part of Emrys's grand plan? To get back at Arthur for all of the humiliation he endured at the hands of the ignorant king by turning the king and all his people into little more than dolls, forced to play along with his fantasy of being a regular servant lest they also be struck down by his rage, their souls tossed aside like broken little ragdolls?

If that truly were the case, then this punishment was far lighter than what Arthur deserved. He had hunted down and slaughtered Emrys's followers, burned his temples, and had demeaned the god of magic himself for nearly ten years by somehow missing the fact that his manservant was secretly a god the whole time, and his punishment was to simply continue on as if everything was the same?

No, that couldn't possibly be the case. Emrys's forgiveness might extend enough such that Arthur wasn't immediately struck down for his hubris, but he had to have some other punishment in store for Camelot. But now, the question remained: what punishment would the god of magic levy upon the kingdom that had so greatly disrespected him, and could Arthur spare his people from the divine wrath that he had brought down on them?

As Arthur sat at his seat at the round table, feeling the full weight of Emrys's gaze on his back, he made a solemn vow to himself: whatever retribution, whatever wrath that Emrys wished to rain down upon the people of Camelot, Arthur would shoulder it all. This was his duty as king.

But, to Arthur's dismay, no matter how many times he pleaded with Merlin Emrys to spare his people, the god never obliged, simply giving Arthur a menacing smile and setting out his clothes for the day, dressing Arthur up like a helpless doll.

Arthur couldn't even get away from Emrys long enough to convene with his knights and form a plan of attack against the god of magic holding their home hostage. Nothing that Arthur did was outside of Emrys's sight, and any attempt at resistance was snuffed out before it could even begin.

(Arthur couldn't help but think about how Merlin's constant presence was a comfort, before... before the truth.)

The only time when Arthur got any privacy from Emrys was at night, when he was able to climb into bed and stay up late into the night wracking his brain for any strategy, any way to persuade Emrys that might protect his kingdom.

But the next morning, after a restless night that bore no new ideas to beat Emrys with, the god would burst through the doors of the royal chambers with a tray of breakfast in hand. And, like every morning since that damned battle at Camlann, Arthur would leap out of bed, sword in hand, only to be disarmed and sat down at his desk with little more than a flash of gold in Merlin's Emrys's eyes. Pushed around like a ragdoll.

After dozens of mornings like this, over a month of feeling powerless and useless, Arthur had had enough. His already too-short patience had run dry, and in his frustration, he made a stupid, foolish mistake. The kind of mistake Merlin- before- would have chastised him for and then have gently guided him towards the better solution.

But Merlin wasn't here. He was gone, perhaps he never even existed and was just a lie the whole time, and Arthur was stuck with an unpredictable and dangerous god in his place.

Namely, an unpredictable and dangerous god whose head Arthur had just thrown a platter at with all of his might in a fit of rage.

Oh no.

Arthur's heart dropped to his gut as Emrys, with an irritated huff, froze the platter in midair and the reality of what he just did came crashing down on him, making his knees weak with horror.

His only method of keeping his people safe was by keeping Emrys appeased enough to limit whatever punishment he had in store for the kingdom to only Arthur himself, and Arthur had almost just hit him in the head with a platter!

Arthur opened his mouth to beg and plead for his people's safety, kingly pride be damned in the face of his entire kingdom being wiped out by divine wrath because of a stupid mistake that Arthur himself made, but was cut off by a sound that once made his chest bloom with warmth, but now only brought dread.

Laughter. Merlin Emrys was laughing at him. Was the god of magic truly so excited about finally smiting the king that had humiliated him for almost a decade that he would laugh about it?

... On second thought, the laughter made sense. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past month, Arthur braced himself for the agony of being struck down by divine wrath, certain that this time he had finally crossed the line and that Emrys would put an end to him here and now.

"Oh Arthur, you really never change, do you? Always such a prat no matter what."

Merlin Emrys shook his head, laughing and smiling all the while, much to Arthur's bewilderment. What was he playing at?!

Suddenly, Arthur's feelings of hurt and betrayal welled up alongside his frustration, and his mouth moved before his brain could register it.

"At least I haven't changed. The same cannot be said for everyone."

Emrys's eyes widened at his words, looking shocked and, surprisingly, hurt. But why would a god care about what a king that he was holding hostage thought about him?

"But I haven't. I haven't changed at all, Arthur, it's only your perception of me that has changed. I've always been... this. And I'm happy with my life as it is, and I don't want it to change.

Don't you see? That's why I'm still here, why I'm doing all of this. I don't want anything to change."

Merlin looked at him earnestly, as if pleading with Arthur to hear him. It was strange, thinking about a god looking at him, a mortal man, pleadingly.

But, if this was truly all he wanted? To live out his life as Merlin the manservant, and not the all-powerful Emrys?

While Arthur certainly couldn't understand it, if treating Emrys as his servant would be what kept the god of magic's wrath at bay, then Arthur would play along and pretend for as long as he needed to.

For everyone's sake.

Arthur gave Emrys Merlin a strained smile as his new plan to ensure his kingdom's survival formed in his mind.

"In that case, why don't you get my armor and weapons ready for training later today, Merlin? We've got a long day ahead of us."

As Merlin gave him a familiar bright smile, Arthur prayed to any gods who weren't Emrys that he hadn't just made a deadly mistake.

And that's all for this au for now! I hope you all enjoyed Arthur's POV! Please let me know if you would like to see a continuation of this au!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

Also, a big thank you to everyone who showed support on this au! I'll try to tag you all here:

@obsessionrepression @transteddyd @merthurogies @dontknowanythingohwell @scuttlingsleipnir

@auroraboringaliceinwonderland @thedollopheadofcamelot @starlight-kestrel @iron-niffler @rainbowsmagicandshit

@linotheghost @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @archiveofcamelot @elementalpirate4 @anemwevieam

@spekulatiusmuffin @theintrovertedintrovert @esoulix @wheneverfeasible @auldsusie

[eric-r-malice]

Yo, I've not got a snappy hook for this, uh. Seen people theorizing that the end of the prophecy- the inevitability nobody wants to see happen- the panel Susie destroyed- was that Castle Town's dark fountain would have to be sealed.

I disagree. Lemme tell ya why, and also a little bit more, too.

First off, I may as well get the obvious point outta the way- read carefully. "TO SAVE THE WORLDS, THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY." The worlds. Worlds, plural. If we were sealing away all the dark worlds, wouldn't this be singular? After all, I wouldn't exactly refer to sealing an entire world away into nothing as "saving" it... we'd only really be saving the light world in that case, wouldn't we?

And that's usually the one counterpoint everyone uses to argue against this theory. But I think there's a lot more to it than just that. But we gotta look into the game's themes and metaphors.

So, what is a dark fountain? What are the dark worlds? Of course, in an in-universe sense, dark fountains are, well- fountains of darkness, negative light, created by stabbing into the earth with determination- and dark worlds are a different view of reality. The other side of pitch-black darkness.

But what are they? As in, what do they represent- what is their thematic purpose? Well- I suppose that might already be clear, right? They're metaphors for escapism. After all, every dark world thus far is themed after a different form of escapism-

Card Kingdom is themed around card games and board games- is there an umbrella term for that?

Cyber City is themed around the internet and computers

TV World is themed around television, and to an extent, videogames

Dark Sanctuary (all 3 of them) are themed around religion

(Flower King) is most likely going to be themed around one or several of gardening, anime/manga, and superheroes

Now, with this metaphor in mind, you can take another look at the game's story and lore, and make sense of it in a new light- too much darkness births a Titan. Too many dark fountains bring the roaring. What's the metaphor here? What's the game trying to tell us?

Too much escapism is detrimental.

And this makes sense! Too much of anything can be detrimental, even basic necessities such as food, water, and sleep- it's a good message to send. But now, let's think about what the game would be saying if we had to seal Castle Town's dark fountain- and thus, the dark world as a whole.

To me, that would be the game telling us... "all escapism is bad, and you should never do any of it." Which... well, why did we play the game, then, if it's just going to tell us that playing it at all was bad, and that we shouldn't have done it? It's just not a good or strong message to send, and I don't think it's one Toby would want to put in his game.

After all, escapism itself is not a bad thing. It's healthy to take a moment to engage in something that makes you feel good if life or the world is bringing you stress. Just don't overdo it.

Additionally, let's consider Ralsei for a moment. Ralsei- very obviously- does not hold himself, or the dark worlds in general- in very high regard, seeing them as "less real" than the light world. He tells Kris and Susie to make "real friends". He tells Tenna that Darkners aren't real, that they'll all become obselete, and that that's okay.

...and the game makes a big point that Ralsei is wrong about these things- particularly, through Susie. Susie insists that Ralsei is real- that he's one of her real friends. That he matters. And when Ralsei's words only serve to make Tenna feel worse, Susie steps up and gives a pep talk. Tells him that he doesn't have to take being thrown away. That he matters, and that he just needs to find the right people. And that's what cheers him right back up and gets him on your side.

Now, let's think about what these moments are saying to us, the player. What message is the game trying to convey here? Personally, I think this is the game telling us that these experiences- the stories we love, the characters we grow attached to- these all matter. They might not be "as real" as we are, but they can be real to us. And they can matter.

...don't you think that idea is incongruent with the idea of sealing Castle Town's grand fountain, when you consider the thematic implications? What- the game tells us in one moment that the fiction we love, while not real, still matters- and in the next, it's telling us that escapism is bad? It don't add up, chief.

And, for one last point, I'd like to quote user redactedtimes on Discord, as they made quite the compelling point about this themself that I didn't think of until he mentioned it.

To me the grand fountain kinda embodies everything about these stories that we take with us after we finish them. Our joy, what we learned about ourselves, that kinda thing. To seal it is to say that none of those actually mattered to you.

This is another really good point- and it has merit within the game's actual story, too! After all, you quite literally take everything back with you to Castle Town from all the other dark worlds. You bring back all the friends you made, and in a sense, all the experiences you had.

Thusly, to seal Castle Town's fountain would be to forsake all of this- to forsake everything you did, all the joy you had, all you learned, all the friends you made- all of it. To say that none of it mattered. To say that those friends, those games, those shows, those learning experiences... none of it mattered. None of it was real to you.

...however! redactedtimes did have a bit more to say that I think is quite interesting.

In other words: we 100% seal [the grand fountain] in the weird route

I think this is a really intriguing theory- and honestly, I believe it. After all, you're going far out of your way to do horrible things to these characters- traumatising them, abusing them, forcing them to grievously injure their friends- and for what? Because you can? To see what happens? To see if anything changes?

In a way, I think the weird route is a retake of the ideas behind Undertale's murder route. A commentary on completionism, and how far you're willing to push and tear apart this game's world just to see what'll happen. Just because you can. And because you "can", you "have to". Hope I quoted that line right...

Anyway- TL;DR: I don't think we're gonna seal the Castle Town fountain in the main route, because it'd go against the themes of the game, and when considering the game's themes, it would send a bad message. However, I could see it happening as a weird route exclusive thing.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Since people seem to enjoy the first part of my Alleleirauh/Beauty and the Beast retelling, I've decided to throw caution to the wind and post the rest of the current draft. I'm not letting myself reread this so I don't overthink this, so there may be errors. This was the part where I really just went with the flow of the vibes, so it may also get repetitive and goopy.

My main issue with this part is with the final ball, because it's where I'm really railroaded by the original fairy tale. This scene has to end how it does, but I'm not sure if the way it gets there is believable. Does it make sense, or do I need to change up the logistics?

Since I'm trying not to spoil it, I can't get any more specific than that. But anyone, if you want to read it, go ahead, and I'd appreciate any feedback or thoughts that anyone has.

The kitchens are a madhouse. It is the night of the first ball, and all the servants in the palace—plus dozens more hired for the event—are working to prepare the supper. I haul wood and water until the ends of my fur ache, and I am constantly kicked and shoved by people who can’t be bothered to make way for the beast girl. Several bowls are broken and sauces are spilled by new servants who gawk at my beastly form, and at last Cook banishes me to the little cell that serves as my room.

This serves my purposes well. With the door of my room shut, I can prepare for the ball. I reach into a hole in the straw mattress of my cot and remove the small trunk the fairy gave me. When I open the lid, three corners of fabric poke out. I pull at the largest, and the sunlight dress appears across the foot of my bed.

My little room grows larger than it should be as I dress for the ball, the same way the little case is large enough to hold my three ballgowns. I move about and dress myself with ease. The gown comes with a shift, with petticoats, with corsets and stockings and golden shoes that all position and fasten themselves almost as soon as my clawed fingers touch them. When the golden gown settles over all the other garments, the fur cloak falls off from underneath and folds itself up on the end of my bed.

Only when the final tie is fastened do I look at my reflection in the darkened window. The sight takes my breath away. No longer is my face a messy, furry muzzle with tangled teeth. It is human, and more beautiful than it ever was before my curse. My skin is milky, my eyes like sapphires. My hair, usually brown, looks almost auburn, and cascades in waves down my back. My fingers—thin and nimble, with polished nails instead of claws—quickly arrange it into beautiful looping braids, which I top off with a headdress that halos my hair with the golden rays like the sun.

By the time I finish, the kitchen is quieter, but I don’t dare the door. I try the window, and, like the size of the room, it accommodates me—I barely lift my foot, and step through to the courtyard as easily as if my window were a set of glass doors.

I know the secret paths of the palace well—having spent my time avoiding the jeers of other servants. Staying the shadows, and following unused back ways, I soon find myself emerging into a corner of the ballroom.

The ball is already well underway. The musicians play a lively reel, and the floor is full of royals from more than twenty kingdoms, dressed in their finest and distracted with the choicest drinks and food. Yet as I emerge from an obscure corner, the room falls silent. Every eye turns my way. The thousand candles in the sconces above our heads seem dim compared to my sunlight gown. Three princes fall to their knees in awe.

What would they say if they knew I were the beast-girl they’d mocked and scorned?

Suddenly, I feel a warm hand in mine. Jacob stands before me, dressed in crimson robes with golden embroidery that perfectly matches my dress. He wears a golden circlet that seems the reflection of my sunlit headdress. His eyes shine with what looks like love—it reminds me of the first time I saw him, when he looked with kindness upon a hunted beast.

He bows over my hand and welcomes me to the dance. He seems anxious to put me—a stranger in a foreign palace—at my ease. He offers me refreshment from the table filled with foods that I helped to prepare alongside the other servants. And then—only then—does he sweep me into a dance.

As a princess, I loved to dance, and my now-human limbs remember every step, twist and turn. Jacob has natural grace, and I follow him easily, sinking fully into the beauty of the music and the ecstasy of the moment. Jacob has his hands upon my human form, his eyes upon my human face. Yet he is not avaricious, as Tariel was. He accepts my beauty as a gift, rather than trying to claim it as a prize. His gaze looks beneath my outer beauty to the soul of the woman inside, just as he looked beyond my beastly form and saw my humanity.

“Have we met before?” Jacob asks, looking deep into my eyes.

Jacob is kind to All-Fur, but he does not love her. Claiming that identity will only hurt my cause—and I doubt he would believe it if I tried.

“Perhaps,” I say. His kingdom is far from mine, but it is possible he once appeared at Father’s court—a humble dignitary far beneath Father’s notice.

“I am afraid I do not know your name.”

Do I dare to claim it? Tariel is fairy-punished, but perhaps my father is free to take his vengeance.

In Jacob’s presence, in this room, in this gown, I can be brave. “Amandine.” I am no longer a princess, but the name is mine.

“Amandine,” he breathes, and the word is like music, like notes from his flute. “Beautiful.”

In saying so, my name becomes beautiful, and by extension, my entire self.

“Your dress is not of earthly origin,” Jacob says.

“It was made by the fae,” I explain.

“Were you?” he asks.

“I am as human as you,” I say, smiling, glad that, in this moment, those words are true.

“From where do you hail?”

I can give him my name, but I can not destroy this night by mention of my childhood home.

I say, “Your kingdom is the nearest home I have.”

“You are one of my subjects?” he asks, with awe in his voice, as if he can hardly believe such a fae-touched beauty dwelt in his land without his knowledge.

I bow my head and dip a slight curtsey. “I am honored to serve such a king.”

He takes my hand and lifts me upright into the dance again. He wears his candle-glow smile, the one that lets me know he is feeling some bone-deep joy. We finish the dance and begin another, another, another, until I lose count and all track of time. He is cautious not to weary me, and sometimes leaves to pay attention to his other guests, but he is always drawn back to my side.

I am lost in a dream, knowing no fear, hearing nothing but the music, seeing nothing but him.

Until at last, through the windows, I see the first gray light of dawn.

Across the room, Jacob is helping an elderly duke to a chair, and searching for a servant who can help him to his room. I dare not wait to say a proper farewell—the fairy’s warning rings too loudly in my ears. If I am to slip away, I can draw no more attention to myself.

The ballroom is nearly empty—many of the guests have already gone to their beds—so I slip away unnoticed to the humble door through which I entered. I find the cloak I left in the passage, then slip along the back ways, step through my window, and collapse onto my humble servant’s bed.

The cloak waits for me there, looking more like a prison than ever—yet it is also my salvation. The dress is fading with the rising light of dawn, and I feel my human self beginning to disappear with it. I throw the cloak over my dress, fasten the buttons and ties. My bones begin to shift, my face begins to change, my throat begins to close, though the golden dress beneath seems to shield me from some of the pain of my first transformation.

By the time the sun crests the horizon, the face looking back at me from the reflection in the window is twisted animal face of All-Fur. The golden dress falls to the floor as a faint patch of sunlight, which fades forever as it is touched by the first rays of day.

Yet when I fall to my bed, the tears I weep are tears of joy. I have tasted paradise, been lost in love, and two more dresses promise two more nights of bliss. Though I have the face of an animal, never again will I doubt that I am a woman—and worthy of love.

#

I am roused by Cook’s heavy hand on my shoulder. “Wake up, you lazy beast! You’ve had your evening off! Now there’s work to be done!”

I tumble out of bed—nearly crashing into Cook’s thick legs—and stagger out the door, crouching so I nearly walk on all fours. My animal form seems more degrading than ever after my night as a woman.

Only a few servants are awake, and they are all groggy and irritated after a short night of sleep. Although I struggle to reacquaint myself with my animal form, I feel as fresh and alert as if I had slept the entire night.

A scullery maid stumbles over me, striking me as she struggles to catch herself. When she stands, she kicks at me in frustration. I am nimble enough to avoid her.

She swears. “That stupid beast, always in the way.”

I stagger toward the kitchen door—slowly remembering how to stand almost upright—and grab the water pail.

“Did you see the princess last night?” one of the kitchen maids asks the scullery maid. “They say the prince is in love.”

My water pail clatters to the floor.

While Cook berates my clumsiness, the kitchen maids praise the beauty of the sun-dressed princess. She is graceful. She is divine. Her veins flow with the blood of the fae.

I take my time gathering the water bucket, smiling to myself. What would they say if they knew the princess they praise and the beast they curse are one and the same?

Cook scowls at their chatter. “She’s a trap,” she growls. “Some magical creature come to enslave him. The king is far too trusting—too ready to love. It’ll be the end of him.”

The maids protest, and my heart does, too. It feels good to have them on my side, even if they don’t know they’re defending me.

“He’s a king,” Cook says, “though he always forgets it. He needs to marry a girl with money. Make an alliance. If he lets himself be swept away by a pretty face, he’ll ruin us all.”

My beautiful night crashes into a million pieces. Am I leading Jacob into a trap? I am truly a woman and truly in love, but I am the disowned daughter of a vengeful king. I can offer him no dowry, no alliance—nothing but myself.

Can it possibly be enough?

#

As the kitchen serves the second night’s feast, I once more hide myself in my little room. I wear the moonlight dress tonight, a pale, shimmering light halfway between silver and gold. My human face looks paler than usual, with more defined angles. My brown hair has darkened to become nearly black, and tumbles in waves all the way to the floor. I arrange the braid in coils at the back of my head. It feels heavy—a weight to counterbalance the weight upon my heart.

When I arrive at the ball, the ballroom falls still. Silence fills the room—hushed and reverent. I bring a bit of moonlight with me—not so bright as the sunlight gown, but just as beautiful. In moments, Jacob is at my side.

“Amandine,” he says, and my heart leaps to hear the music in the way he says my name.

Despite everything, I can do nothing but smile when he is near. “King Jacob,” I say, bending a knee in reverence.

He lifts me to my feet and looks into my face. I have never seen him radiate such joy. “You returned.”

“I could not stay away.”

“You left so suddenly. I was worried—”

I smile. “There is nothing to fear.”

He sweeps me into a dance—two, three, four. The worries—all the world—drift away, until it is only us two, safe in our moonlight glow.

I can not expect him to marry me. I should not even want it. If I were truly good, kind, innocent, I would sacrifice my life for his sake. I would want to let Jacob wed a woman who would be best for his kingdom. I can think of a dozen in this very room who would make more suitable queens.

Yet as I gaze into his face, seeing the laughter that tugs at his lips, hear the joy in the way he hums to the music, watch him nearly float with the ecstasy of being near me, I can imagine no woman who would so well suit his heart.

We talk between dances—I delight in speaking words in a fluent human voice. We speak of music—he learns of the instruments I play. We speak of poetry—we learn we share favorites. We talk philosophy, politics, views of the world, and agree on nearly every point.

Then the talk turns to the future, and my rebel tongue refuses to keep silence on the question that fills my heart.

“What does the king seek in a bride?” I ask.

“A woman I can love,” he says, sweeping me into a turn. “A woman who can serve this kingdom with wisdom and compassion.”

His eyes, his voice, make it clear he believes me to be that woman.

“If she has no money?” I ask. “No dowry? No title?”

For the first time tonight, his eyes show a flash of pain—a silver arrow that shows my words have wounded him. “You think I care for such worldly things?”

“Kings must,” I say, “and you are a king.”

He stops dancing and looks deep into my face as the other dancers whirl around us. I have never seen him so solemn. “I do not look for such externals,” he says. “I have seen too many kings—too many kingdoms—fall that way. I value only what is in the heart. People call my kingdom small and poor, but it is good and it is happy—and I would rather keep it that way than throw it all away for the sake of my own power.”

I am struck speechless.

The pain in his eyes sharpens. “You think I am foolish?”

The way he says those words holds an echo of dozens of people who have used that phrase against him. I can think of many who would agree with it—Cook, my father, Tariel. I have never been so glad that he is nothing like them.

“No,” I say, overwhelmed by his goodness. It is like seeing the sun for the first time, only now realizing that I have spent my life in darkness. “I think you are the wisest man I have ever met.”

The silver pain in his eyes turns to joy, golden and sun-bright. I find myself falling into those eyes, drawn to the man that all my pain and suffering have been leading me toward. My lips brush his—the barest touch, warm and sweet.

Outside the window, the sun begins to rise. My moonlight glow of my dress dims, and I feel my form fading with it.

I gasp and pull away.

“Amandine?” Jacob asks with concern. “What is wrong?”

“I must away!” I gasp, already heading toward the main door. The crowd murmurs with concern—the rumors already beginning.

Jacob follows with long strides. “Let me help—“

“No!” I cry in terror. After this beautiful moment, I can’t bear to let him see me in my monster garment once again. Seeing the pain in his eyes, I risk taking a moment to dash toward him, taking his hands in mine. “Trust me,” I say, looking deep into his eyes. “I will return tomorrow. But you must let me leave on my own.”

He hesitates—my wish goes against every instinct in his compassionate nature—but at last, with a sigh, he bows and bids me go.

The crowd parts as I dash through them. I wander down the steps, around the palace, back through the window by my kitchen bed. The cloak of furs waits for me—torture and salvation.

My hands are numb as I wrap the cloak around my shoulders. The fur falls around me and clings to my form. My bones shift, and I cry in agony for the abbreviated end to the night.

The moonlight dress falls to the floor—a silvery scrap. It melts away like snowflakes in the sun, like the tear that dries on my fur-lined face.

I fall to my bed, agony and ecstasy so mingled that I cannot tell one from the other. Rising to such heights of love—knowing that I am cherished—makes the crash back to my beastly form harder to bear.

But there is one more dress. One more night. And the thought I cherish in my heart—that soothes my agony and allows me to sleep—is a belief that before its end, I will be freed of the curse of my cloak of furs.

#

I have difficulty getting to the well. So many new horses with their new stablehands mean that the yard is swarming with strangers. Several stableboys lounge around the well—slow in their work since their masters still sleep after the revels of the night.

I struggle to stand upright in my animal form, but remembering the way that Jacob looked at me last night, I manage a pose that’s almost regal.

A dark-haired stranger laughs as I attach my bucket to the chain. “It works like a human?”

“Does it sleep in the kennels?”

“It’s got a kitchen bed,” one of Jacob’s smallest stableboys explains.

The stranger nods deeply—a mockery of wisdom. “Ah—every kitchen needs its guard dog.”

I bare my teeth and let a low growl rumble in my throat. The dark-haired stranger leaps back so quickly he nearly falls in the well. His comrades laugh at him.

His brow darkens, and in revenge, he lunges toward me, knocking me down with a fist to the side of the head.

I am too stunned to react. Jacob’s servants have learned not to lay a finger on me—they might feint toward me or bump into me, but intentional violence will lose them their place.

To their credit, the palace stableboys leap upon the newcomer, holding him back and telling him what it means.

“It’s the king’s pet!” one explains. “Hurting it makes him angry—”

The stranger scoffs. “What do I care about your milk-sop king? That soft-hearted idiot couldn’t do anything to me.”

The silver arrow of pain that I saw in Jacob’s eyes last night now stabs me through the heart. Do you think me a fool? Too many do.

Fury flings me to my feet, and I shout in defense of him. He’s the greatest king who ever lived! Wiser than a fool like you could ever be!

My words come out as strangled yowls, with only a syllable or two sounding vaguely human.

The stableboys stare in bewilderment.

“Has it gone mad?” the stranger asks, tensing as if to strike again.

I suddenly see Jacob enter the yard—even after his long night, he wakes for his morning ride. As he dismounts, he catches sight of our scuffle and runs toward the scene.

“All-Fur!” he shouts.

My heart lifts. He is my protection, now as always.

When he reaches the scene, he pulls back the stable boy—protecting him from me.

“Has she hurt you?” he asks.

Those words send a shaft of pain through my soul. The man who looked at me with love last night—how could he think me a vicious beast?

I meet his gaze, and suddenly see the scene through his eyes.

I am standing over a crowd of cowering stable boys. My fur stands on end, and my eyes are wild.

Despite his friendship for me, he is willing to protect a stranger. Perhaps Jacob is not always wise, but he is always good.

The palace stableboys shout, “He struck her!” Perhaps this cruel stranger is not very popular.

Jacob’s face darkens as they tell him the details. The stranger tries to protest, calling me a monster, an animal, an abomination.

Anyone looking at Jacob now would not call him soft-hearted. His protective grip becomes an iron restraint. “She is a woman and under my protection.”

Before his look of disapproval, this scoffing stableboy falls silent.

Jacob calls for a palace guard and hands the boy to him.

“Confine him in the servant’s quarters,” he says. “I will speak to his master.”

As the guard drags the boy away, Jacob looks to me. There is no love in his gaze. No adoration. Only pity and concern.

“All-Fur,” he says. “Come with me.”

I leave the crowd of gossiping stableboys and follow Jacob into the palace. He keeps to back hallways and we reach his study without passing another human soul.

Jacob sits behind a desk and bids me sit in one of the facing chairs. “All-Fur,” he says, a note of reproach in his voice. “I asked you to come to me if you were mistreated.”

What the boy did to me was nothing. His attack upon Jacob drove me to fury. I do not have enough words to tell him so.

“Not mad,” I manage to say, “for me. For you.”

Jacob puzzles over my words—he has become skilled at deciphering my phrases. “You were angry for my sake?”

“Yes,” I say with relief.

“He insulted me?” he asked. “That is why you were so wild?”

“Yes,” I say again, relieved he understands.

But he frowns. “You must never do so again. I take all insults and attacks willingly upon myself. Your appearance makes people distrust you—even if you are acting in defense, they will think you a feral beast.”

For a moment I wonder—what is the use of these teeth and claws if I can not use them in defense of the man I love? I want to spend my life protecting him from those who misunderstand his goodness of heart.

If all goes well at tonight’s ball, I will. All-Fur will disappear, and he need never know the disgusting beast he kept as a pet is the woman with whom he fell in love.

#

Thick snow clouds cover the sky, so it seems like all the stars have come down to adorn my dress. When I enter the ballroom, every person in the room gasps in awe and delight. The stars swirl across my dress, deep enough to get lost in. They shine as large and bright as they do on the coldest winter nights, with delicate colors that usually can not be seen with the naked eye. A shooting star occasionally streams across the dress. Tonight, I am the center of the universe.

My hair is lighter than usual, with golden undertones making my hair almost blond. I have done it up in a braid that circles my brow like the crown I hope to someday wear as Jacob’s wife.

Jacob wears a golden circlet of his own, and his eyes are as bright as my stars as he bows over my hand. “You are well,” he says.

I say, with perfect truth, “I have never been happier.”

As we begin our first dance, Jacob asks, “Why did you leave so suddenly last night? Did I offend—?”

“No, never,” I assure him.

He whirls me into a dance, but tonight, that is not all we do. After the first few numbers, he begins to take me around the room, introducing me to lords and ladies, earls and countesses, servers and guards. All my social training as a princess comes back to me. I am gracious, elegant, poised—and far kinder than I ever could have been with father as my only guide. Even those who seem most fearful of my miraculous appearances seem won over by my entirely human conversation.

When we return to the dance floor near dawn, Jacob says, “The people love you.”

“And I love them,” I say, surprised by how deeply I mean it. There are those among the crowd who were unkind to All-Fur, but everyone’s best qualities are on display in Jacob’s presence, and there are many who are genuinely kind. He brings out the best in people, and I could see the best of the world if I stood at his side.

“I am glad,” he says, his eyes shining.

My heart rises. If he was testing me for fitness as queen, I have passed with flying colors.

We whirl through another dance, each step bringing me closer to dawn. I allowed the hours to pass in joy, but as we approach morning with no sign of a proposal, I am more and more aware that this night is my last night in human form.

Why does he wait, I wonder. Why does he not propose? He has declared his love despite my poverty, all but declared me to be good enough to be his queen. Am I not beautiful enough? Is there another woman who has a hold on his heart? Are three nights not enough to fall in love?

Jacob notices my unease. “Are you well?” he asks, looking nervously through the door I escaped through last night. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

I can’t tell him that I wish for a proposal. I must be asked—I cannot do the asking.

“No,” I say. “I am only tired.” As well I might be, after three full nights of dancing, were I not wearing enchanted dresses.

Jacob, as considerate as ever, leads me to a comfortable chair in a cool corner of the room. Here, I can see the sky, which sends down wind and heavy snow. It is still dark, so my heart eases—perhaps I’ve hours before dawn.

Jacob brings me punch and a small piece of cake. I want to enjoy tasting flavors with my human tongue, but I can barely choke down the dessert.

“I have fatigued you,” Jacob says, an apology in his tone. “Forgive me. I overwhelmed you with introductions.”

He is always apologizing when he has done nothing wrong. If he is apologizing, he can’t propose.

My tone shows more frustration than I intend. “No. Stop. I am well.”

I can see that he doesn’t believe me. He brings a chair next to me and holds my hand.

I wonder if this is how I will spend my last moments as a human—sitting in a chair, being pampered like an invalid, waiting for a proposal that will never come. I trusted the fairy. I believed her when she said three nights would be enough for my salvation.

A servant approaches and catches Jacob’s eye. He beckons to his king.

Jacob begins to rise from his chair, but presses my hand reassuringly. “Wait here,” he says. “I will return.”

They are similar to the words I told him last night. He trusted me then, so I trust him now.

I sit. I watch. I wait.

The servant takes him to a shadowed corner. They speak in low voices. They clasp hands. I am not near enough to guess at what could be keeping him. They could be discussing the weather or the fall of the kingdom.

At last, Jacob returns, his face shining brighter than all my stars. So the kingdom has not fallen.

“Are you well enough to dance?” Jacob asks.

I glance to the window and curse the snow. I wish I knew how long I had before dawn.

If I only have moments left in my human form, I want to spend it dancing.

We dance as we have never danced before, moving in perfect harmony, steps and sweeps and souls all matching. The stars of my dress whirl around us, the two of us moving in heavenly perfection. The other dancers spin around us, stars and moons and planets caught up in our orbit.

Outside, the wind howls. The snow flies. The sun is nowhere to be seen.

Jacob says, “Amandine, we have known each other for three nights.”

“Yes,” I say, despair rising in me. Three nights. Only three night. Not enough. Never enough.

“You are going to think this foolish,” he says, “but I feel as though I have known you for far longer. Your arrival did not feel like meeting for the first time. It is as if—you were revealed, in full, as the woman I have long loved but can only now see.”

My heart rises so high it dances upon the ceiling. Perhaps, in some way, All-Fur was more than just an object of pity.

“It is not foolish,” I say. “I feel the same way.”

We have reached the center of the floor. Tiles make a golden sunburst, surrounded by smaller shapes of golden stars. All the court stands around us—silent, watching, still. The music falls silent.

The stars on my dress start to die.

I choke back a sob, swallow back tears. I don’t want Jacob to think he has caused my sorrow. I smile through pain.

Jacob falls to one knee.

I gasp. Perhaps there will be time...

He reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out a golden ring. It is a simple band bearing several diamonds. One is large like the sun, flanked by two that are curved like the moon, surrounded by smaller gems that look like stars.

The stars on my dress blink out one by one. My hands go numb. My legs tingle.

“Amandine,” Jacob says. “I love you with all my heart. I kneel before you, not as a king, but as a man. You are my equal, not my subject, and you may answer me honestly, without fear.”

I nod. My body feels distant, as though it is wrapped in cotton.

“I believe you are the woman who best completes my heart. The woman who will best serve this country as queen.”

He takes my hand. A tingling sensation courses through all my limbs. “You protest that you have no title—I give you one. You say you have no family—I give you mine.”

He slides the ring onto my finger. The fourth finger of my left hand.

Pain courses through every cell of my body. I feel as though I’m flying apart.

He is proposing, but he has not asked.

I can no longer wait for him to speak the words.

If I wait a moment longer, I will have no body left.

In tears, I flee from the ballroom. I head toward the hidden door in the corner of the palace. With speed I’ve never shown before, I fly down the stairs, through hidden passages, across the stableyard, and then, at last, through my window.

I am nearly transparent. I feel featherlight. In a breath, I will be gone. I will not have to live as All-Fur. I will be free of all pain.

I will never see Jacob again.

I love him too much to leave him alone. Even if he will never love his beastly servant, I will love him with everything I have.

I put the cloak upon my form for the last time. It clings to my form, sending pain through every limb, far worse than my first transformation. The dress, when it falls to the floor, is nothing but a few sparkles, gone in the blink of an eye.

But my body is whole. Solid. Pain-free.

The twisted form of an animal with all kinds of fur.

The diamond ring sits upon my fur-covered finger, mocking me with the promise that was never made—that never will be made.

Sobbing, I collapse onto my bed, and I fall into darkness.

[shini--chan]

Can you do america headcanons in 1800's? thanks!

Sure, will expand a bit more on this here. In case you are wondering why I depict Alfred as being shy at first - I headcanon Arthur as being a bad father. 

Yandere America - Timeline

Trigger warnings: imperialism, abuse, manipulation, stalking and isolation.

1781 - 1803: Alfred would have just reached adulthood and completed his revolution against his dear lord father. Establishing himself as a nation would be chaotic and he would still be an insecure mess. This youth would be more inclined to stalking and pining from afar. Letters would be written only to be scrapped and he would leave posies on your window sill and stock up your cache of firewood. His antics would be cute if they wouldn't coincide with more disturbing behaviours. Your suitors would suffer from poisonings or be kidnapped and if you'd watch out, you'd notice that a certain somebody would regularly make himself at home in your abode. Maybe he would wear your clothes and then put them back in the closet, or eat using your dirty cutlery. Your soaps and hygiene articles would be used by him and he'd trace messages in any layer of dust that he would come across. 

This is because when it would come to closer emotional connections, he would be painfully shy. Especially with all the tasks at hand - establishing himself as a country, being recognised as a country and gaining territory - he wouldn't have time for emotional navel gazing. This still wouldn't prevent him from acting on those emotions in a very emotionally constipated way. To top all the madness off, being close to you would calm him down, yet he would be extremely fearful of you rejecting him in any way, so he would resort to being a stalker and a creep to have his cake and eat it. 

1803 - 1832: The Louisiana Purchase and the 1812 War occur. Alfred would grow more sure of himself and more inclined to lash out to deal with adversity. When it comes to his attitude, think of the heroic protagonist before fate would beat the optimism out of them. Yet during this time, his more rotten traits would become more pronounced - the calculating greed would expand to all parts of his life and his self-righteousness would become more pronounced. In a world of empires and kingdoms, he would be the shining city on the hill, a bastion of freedom and democracy. You would be of the same opinion, wouldn't you? 

Surely you would stand at his side on the side of liberty, or are you just as rotten as those meddling Europeans, or just as subservient as his brother Canada? While he wouldn't be as cocksure as his WWII self, he would be more open then after the revolution. His method of isolating you would also be carting you everywhere with him - you wouldn't really be able to build and maintain a social circle that way. 

It would be you, him and a whole brave new world. For him, it would be all excitement and exploration, for you - toil and tears. Still, this would be a time when he would be more able to stomach set-backs, provided that things are alright at home. They wouldn't be - the divide between proponents and opponents of slavery would grow and other issues would way down on him. Since you'd probably be the only one to be around him permanently, you might witness the one or the mental breakdown. Alfred would loath to show weakness and at the same time yearn for the comfort of your arms. 

1832 - 1861: Manifest Destiny would be formulated, and similar attitudes would be directed towards you. God would have ordained that you belong to him, and that his empire should stretch from sea to shining sea. You'd have to fall in line, or suffer the consequences. Alfred would slowly become stricter. You could speak your mind freely, however, because what you say wouldn't matter. He would be the hero of this story, and your purpose would to be to underline his role and serve as his love interest. So much would be going on during these few years that he would rely increasingly on absolutist and simplified mental constructs to deal with all the going-ons. Think of the direct and straightforward architecture of myths. It wouldn't help that his Puritan upbringing would have already laid the corner stones for such behaviour. 

As such, he would whisper conspiracy theories to you in the middle of the night and drag you along for the wildest tales. When the California Goldrush would kick off, you would be packed up and hauled with his other belongings across the continent. While he might try his hand at sieving some gold out the river, he would eventually switch tracks and open a casino in one of the cities. Perhaps you would run the bar or wait one of the tables, only to backpedal when people would keep flirting with you despite how many he would best in standoffs, or if you'd ask for help. Alfred would be all for woman’s rights until you would commit a wrong. While he wouldn't be a moral person, he would be fully convinced that he is and nothing you say will change his mind. Thankfully, he wouldn't yet be at the stage where he would be inclined to dictate how other people must live. 

Before the Civil War would start, he would be ordered back to Washington. As the eve of the conflict would approach, he would become ever more torn. You would be subject to his mood swings because you would be there and there would be no repercussions for harming you. Nevertheless, he would feel guilty and apologise profusely if he would hurt you. 

1861 - 1917: The war would break out and he would be deployed. Chances are that you would even be sent with him as his minder. You would be tasked with keeping an eye on him and keeping him in check. Interestingly enough, you would have even less freedoms than normally, since you would also have the military brass breathing down your neck. You would be used to pacify and control Alfred and Alfred would use you to return the favour. It would be during this time that he would develop a big petty streak.

Reconstruction would be hard on you, because the hard-won peace would be fraught with tensions and thus you would be heavily affected. What was supposed to be idyllic would be contentious and Alfred would be perpetually annoyed. You would have to bear the brunt of it, and adhere to even stricter rules in order to not set him off. Don't dare try to escape, for you wouldn't see the light of day for months once he'd recapture you.

The Gilded Age would be a small taste of what is to come. His less savoury traits would take the stage, and you would be worse off for it. Buisness would be booming, and he would raking in cash by demanding tithes from the newly established industrialists in exchange for favours. He'd be all bets and deals in that time, and he wouldn't give things freely anymore. Want a day out? Give him a good French kiss then. He'd have anybody that would take you away from him assassinated. You'd get to enjoy the spoils of American imperialism, and he'd demand you be grateful and sleep well on your bed of bones. Can you stomach the amorality? If not, then he'd set out to errode your “cute little pretences”.

With the turn of the century, he would calm down and become better. Just don't mention his past transgressions and you'll be fine - he gets enough flake from the government as it is. Just enougb the spell of calm, where he would be kinder to you.

1917 - 1941: However much he would want to feel the European war, it would come to him. He would to drawn to war and this would be your chance to escape unhindered. Generally, you would have a better chance of escaping when he'd be on a front/battlefield and occupied. There would hell to pay should he get your hands on you again. Though, in the case of WWI, he might be too catonic afterwards to really chase after you. The preasures of industrial warfare where thousands could die in a single day in a single battle, would grind his resolve.

You'd have to deal with the resulting PTSD and the hedoism he'd indulge in to overcome the trauma. Speaking of - the 20s would be the only time when your relationship would be somewhat normal, because he would allow you to work and form friendships with other people. Later, during the Great Depression, he would use your formed relationships against you and isolate you all the more fot it.

1941 - 1945: After the attack on Pearl Harbour, there would be hell to pay. Alfred would be brimming with rage and with that rage centred around a defined and tangible target, his mind would be clear. For once, he would nag at you and direct all his energies and anger towards Japan. Germany would be even really a target of his ire. Of course, he would be enraged when his ass would get handed back to him in North Africa, yet he would be able to repress it. Arthur would teach his boy the ropes and Alfted would learn fast.

At first, you would be kept in the States. Alfred would expect sugar reports from you (nice letters) and he would send trophies - gold to patches to human body parts. His letters to you would be saturated with his bloodlust and love of destruction. Perhaps he'll have you brought to France or Malaya in the later years of the war, so that he could extract comfort from you. However, unlike the previous times, he wouldn't calm down after the peace treaties would be signed. Addicted to power, he would only become worse.

Summary: Alfred before taking on the crown would be more human, and less hypocritical. Sure, there would still be self-righteousness and bipolar thinking, yet he would be less inclined to micromanage your behaviour. Since he wouldn't have so much to lose, he wouldn't completely shy away from showing weakness. You'd be able to speak more freely and act as you want as long as you abide by common sense and the playground rules. That would no longer apply when he becomes a superpower.

Furthermore, post 1945 you would be under dear constant surveillance due to his paranoia. He'd constantly be checking and controlling you and trying to mould you into the perfect spouse when the power would reach his head. Alfred as the pinnacle of Western civilization would be inhuman - he'd demand you show him all your cards and indulge his whims while he would hold his close to his chest. After all, he would have lost his humanity.  

[beifong-brainrot]

Sure we can rag on Bolin for not realising he joined the Earth Kingdom equivalent of the Nazi party and call him an idiot for it (deserved) but honestly I can't really fault him for it?

Like the ostrich effect is a thing and we are watching it in full effect here. We've seen that Bolin is a character that deals very poorly with conflict. Like it's super obvious he'd avoid standing up to Kuvira as much as he could.

One of Bolin's biggest hurdles as a character is that he is looking for a purpose, the rest of team Avatar having 'found themselves'. So it's not out of character for him to join Kuvira.

I feel like he's also compensating for the loss of Korra, who was in recovery at the time by following Kuvira.

It's very obvious that Korra had a huge impact on Bolin's life, as she did with all of Team Avatar. But Bolin had definetly attached himself very strongly to her. He's been following Mako around his entire life, been a follower for most of his life. And then his first real friendship outside of family follows a similar pattern.

Korra is like the perfect character for Bolin to project his weird codependency thing onto. She's an effortless leader, very forceful, decisive and straightforward. Someone who he can easily listen to and carve out a path he can follow. And following the Avatar around allows him to do something worthwile and good. To actually help. With the added benefit that it gets him people's approval, something he so clearly desperately needs and craves.

Then Korra becomes so injured that she has to be placed in physical therapy for an indeterminate ampunt of time.

So Bolin projects that need and codependency on someone else. Kuvira. In his argument with Mako he states it clear as day: 'I mean, Kuvira is basically just like Korra. She might seem hard to deal with, but just because she's so passionate and believes in what she's doing.'

He gets to continue doing good and making people like him while under very clear orders he can follow.

I mean, this boy is traumatised. Clearly, Mako took the brunt of the horrors of their childhood, but it would be incredibly stupid to say that Bolin isn't fucked up as well. Clearly in a different way but fucked up nonetheless. I think this codependency thing is something both brothers benefitted from as kids but that's a conversation for another day.

And the events of the first three books are also traumatic?

Like he's just been part of a civil war/end of the world so excuse him for hoping to catch a break. I will once again refer you to the ostrich effect. Another war breaking out is probably like worst case scenario in his mind.

I feel like for him, if he opens his eyes to what Kuvira is doing is accepting that there is once again a 'big conflict' in his life. And that his loved ones are once again in danger. And worse, that he's contributed to it.

I can also see it all being a case of 'well ive waded neck deep into this swamp, now i gotta see this through'. Like he's sunk so much time and energy into this cause, it can't be all wrong, right?

Sure, ego is probably a big part of his behaviour. Everyone is telling him that Kuvira is bad and that automatically puts up the defences. Bit I can see how these warnings feel like a direct personal attack at Bolin himself. He was also incredibly isolated from most of his friends when serving Kuvira. Other than Zhu Li and Varrick, who aren't exactly peers.

So he's lonely on a train most of his time and when he does reuinte with his loved ones they start criticising his life choices . I can see him getting defensive and automatically resistant to critisism.

And Kuvira is also shown to be very good at emotuonal manipulation and threats and stuff. And Bolin, a chronic people pleaser whith a lot of trauma is, like, the perfect victim for those shenanigans. Bolin is canonically bad at reading situations that are detrimental to him (look at the entirety of his relationship with Eska)

You know, sure, he's an idiot for staying with her as long as he did. But it's not as black and white as a lot of people make it out to be?

[sarafangirlart]

(long analysis) It always pisses me off when people say that Andromeda has no agency in her myth and they fix it by having her:

1-Choose to sacrifice herself

2-Accept Phineus as her fiancé

3-Hate Perseus.

They throw away everything that the myth symbolizes.

Andromeda is literally given away as a sacrifice for her parents' mistakes, she has to pay for something they committed and they are not even capable of trying to change their daughter's fate.

They do not look for ways to save both the kingdom and their daughter, they put duty above their daughter's feelings, even though that does not mean that they are happy that their daughter is going to die, they put her life below duty.

They take away all her autonomy, she is chained (unlike other women who were used as sacrifices) and stripped naked, she is humiliated and stripped of all dignity and ability to choose her own future.

Andromeda is sacrificed in the name of family duty and for her kingdom, having to fulfill family expectations and her duty to her parents against her will.

Her engagement to Phineus follows that same line, she was an only woman, daughter of the kings, women could not rule at that time and she had to marry to produce male heirs, grandchildren who could serve as heirs to her father, so choosing Phineus (apart from being family) was not really Andromeda's choice, it was another situation where she had to fulfill family duty.

Historically, royal women suffered a lot of pressure and could not choose their future.

That is why the play of Euripides (famous for including family conflicts in his plays) portrays it that way in his work Andromeda: Andromeda's dilemma between her parents' wishes/family duty and what she wants to choose.

In that case, Andromeda's chains are not only physical but also metaphorical, Perseus literally acts as her liberator.

Love is used here as a redeemer, love is the force that frees Andromeda from her suffering and gives her purpose and choice.(Perseus literally asks Eros for help)

Perseus restores her dignity, makes her his wife instead of some mistress/slave/concubine and gives her an honorable place.

Perseus changes what everyone believed was "fate" by showing Andromeda that she was not bound to follow what her parents wanted of her.

Andromeda DECIDES to marry Perseus, she chooses the life she wants to have, even if her parents disapprove, she is now going to live a life where she will not have to fulfill her family duty.

And the contrasts between Phineus and Perseus are clear:

Pineus: He was a "coward" who did not rescue his fiancée and did not even care that she was in that situation, his motivation to marry her was the power and benefits that marriage would bring him.

Perseus: He was the brave and heroic hero who rescued her, his motivation was love for her, Perseus fell in love and that was the force that freed her (physically and metaphorically) and was the salvation of the kingdom.

Even in Euripides' work it is mentioned that Perseus is a very good match (much better than Phineus) not because he is approved by Andromeda's parents, but because he is someone noble and virtuous, and most importantly Andromeda loves him.

Extra data added:

•Perseus arrives and discovers Andromeda as she flies by with Hermes' slippers (flying was always a symbol of freedom)

•Everything happens in relation to the sea: Cassiopeia offends the Sea Deities and they are the ones who punish Andromeda, they sent a sea monster and she was tied up by the sea.(I also find it symbolic that Perseus is a fisherman) Since the sea often also represents freedom/escape, new beginnings, journey/transition, birth/rebirth.

Andromeda was already stripped of all her agency and autonomy long before Perseus ‼️ it was for the first time with Perseus that she had a choice and did not have to conform to her parents' decisions and family duty.If they change that, they take away all meaning and essence from the myth, which makes it meaningless.

Good analysis!

I especially dislike when Andromeda is depicted as wanting to sacrifice herself, it doesn’t give her more agency it only pushes the idea that women and girls are supposed to put duty and family over their own lives and that a female character not willing to do that is wrong somehow.

It reminds of this poem, of how love metaphorically and physically frees Andromeda, this poem actually has a more interesting take on gender and patriarchy than a lot of modern retellings. I also love how romantic camaraderie and friendship is portrayed.

[majoresca]

Hypothesis (Theory) : A proof of virtue.

How Cedric's admiration for the wizard Merlin can explain his fixation on getting the amulet of Avalor, and his real reason for wanting to use it to become king. ( In this case, the reason for wanting to use the amulet in question, not the exactly reason for wanting to govern the kingdom. )

To reach this conclusion we must answer some questions:

Why didn't Cedric use his own magic or other means to take the throne?

Why didn't he resort to more "classic villainy" strategies?

Why would he just want an item that has a security system that prevents it from being used for evil purposes?

If he sees himself as a bad person, what stops him from using less ethical and more unscrupulous means to get what he wants?

The answer may lie in the story of his own idol, Merlin.

Story Context: Merlin is one of the most influential characters in the legend of King Arthur, being his advisor and best friend. In the adaptation of the legend, in the Disney film The Sword in the Stone, we are introduced to a simple boy, Arthur, who works as a stable boy in a castle and dreams of becoming a knight. Despite his simple origin and being ridiculed by his acquaintances, Merlin becomes his mentor ensuring that in the future Arthur will be a king. The prophecy comes true when Arthur pulls the sword from the stone and becomes king.

Similarities between Merlin and Cedric:

Both are magic users, and serve as mentors for young commoners who have become or will become royalty.

They also have animal assistants, who question the abilities of their mentors' apprentices.

And they have a personal feud with other magic users, who seek to humiliate them by demonstrating the superiority of their powers over theirs.

Resolution of the hypothesis: Cedric wants to use the amulet of Avalor to prove himself worthy of ruling, just like in the Arthurian Legend. That's why his idol is the wizard Merlin.

By wearing the amulet, he would be in possession of a symbol of virtue, just like the sword of the stone in King Arthur's possession.

It is possible that Cedric's intentions in using the amulet are similar to the sword of legend, as this would show him as being worthy of the throne, proving his knowledge of magic and signaling his value. That's why he wouldn't have used offensive tactics to take the throne right away, because he wanted to prove himself worthy in the eyes of those who despised him. And only when he saw that he would not be worthy of receiving the amulet and using it, he used a direct offensive attack by allying with The Order of the Wand to take the throne by force.

It could even be said in a headcanon, that Cedric saw himself as Arthur as a child.

With weak physique, and being a burden to his father figures and being mocked by his own friends and siblings.

Perhaps he found comfort in knowing that even someone initially as weak as Ortis became the great King Arthur.

Ironically, one of the powers that Cedric so desires to receive from the amulet is physical strength itself. But in the legend, the sword from the stone is not raised by great strength, but by the humility of a sincere heart in helping those in need. Precisely the virtue that little princess Sofia has.

P.S.

Hello, I'm still new to the fandom and haven't seen much of the original material yet. Everything I know so far has come from other people's video essays and reviews, which I'm so grateful for sharing your knowledge with everyone.

I just wanted to share this thought because as far as I know, I haven't seen anyone commenting yet. Or maybe it was just my lack of knowledge about others who reached the same conclusion before me. I don't want to reinvent the wheel.

It's just an idea, I don't even know if this could be right, or if it makes sense or not. Who knows?

(By the way, English is not my first language. So, I hope I used the translation tool correctly.)

Anyway, thank you very much for paying attention to what I have to say and feel free to comment with your own views and opinions!

[patchwork-crow-writes]

The RalsAlmanac, Volume I

Okay, here it is! A series of essays that will attempt to definitively explain just who or what Ralsei is, referring to scenes from the game as evidence, as well as external sources where appropriate.

There will be some conjecture, as there's just so much we don't know about him, and what little we are given isn't exactly the most revealing. However, I've done my best to cleave as closely to the source material as I can, and I believe there's a strong case to be had here.

Hopefully you'll be able to see where my points come from, or at the very least you'll learn something you didn't know before. Either way, thanks for your consideration!

Volume I - Ralsei Is A Character In A Role-Playing Game.

Self-indulgent reference out of the way, lemme ask you a question.

Who is Ralsei?

It's a question that seems like it should be easy to answer. He's the Prince From The Dark, the third of the three Delta Warriors, he exists to serve the lightners, and is the most precious little cinnamon roll that ever lived. He enjoys baking and crochet, can hold a tune, is a decent interior-decorator, and holds his friends Kris and Susie in very high regard.

Thing is, that's about all you can really say about him without veering into speculation and headcanons, and they're more surface-level observations than anything else. What exactly does "Prince From The Dark" mean, for instance? Prince in what sense, exactly? Ceremonial, or with the actual power that royalty conveys? Where does he rank in comparison to, say, King or Queen, both actual rulers of actual kingdoms? The title of "prince" would suggest that he answers to them, but while they rule their own municipalities, Ralsei's title implies he rules over ALL dark worlds. You could go on asking these questions forever, but I think you see what I'm getting at.

A more productive avenue of questioning might be: What role does Ralsei play in the story of Deltarune? Perhaps more of his underlying character and motivation could be gleaned by looking at what he does for the story and the game. And this would be correct... sort of.

We tend to think of him as the squishy healer of the party, the Heart and moral centre of the Fun Gang. And he absolutely is that, but he's also quite a bit more. He plays all sorts of different roles and character archetypes in the first two chapters of the game, including but not limited to:

the old man whose purpose is to wax poetic about the ancient prophecy...

the know-it-all tutorial fairy who walks you through the basic game mechanics...

the straight-man DM trying to keep everything on the rails...

the young sheltered noble experiencing the outside world for the first time...

the demure love-interest to the main protagonist...

the Polyanna determined to see the good in everybody...

the mysterious waif who knows things he shouldn't...

...eye candy…?

...and so on and so forth.

And so what, I hear you cry. Characters in video games can have more than one personality trait, after all. And yes, this is true! But usually, the different aspects of a character's roles, how they interact with, reinforce or contradict each other, can tell us more about their inner world - what motivates them, what they actively like and dislike... in short, it grants them depth and allows us to engage with them as actual people, rather than just a series of game functions and character traits dressed up in a pretty bow.

But that's not what we see with Ralsei. In fact, far from showing us any real, deep aspect of his character, each new guise he dons and part he plays in the narrative further obfuscates him from us. We learn no new meaningful information from any of these exchanges... except for one thing, but we'll come to that in a moment.

This vexes us, because we WANT to know more about him, but all we end up getting is stock JRPG tropes dressed up in a warm, fluffy coat. There HAS to be something deeper, we reason - he's hiding things from us, so he must be a secret villain. Or his backstory is so tragic, so traumatising, that he cannot properly articulate it to us right now. Or maybe what we see really IS what we get - a simpering, airheaded fool whose only desires in life are to be cute, please his betters and do what he's told. Yet even this explanation seems... unsatisfying, especially since we KNOW he harbours some angst about himself and his sense of identity.

And speaking of which, that one thing we learn? Right at the end of Chapter 2's Acid Tunnel sequence, he utters a single sentence:

This is arguably one of the most significant lines of dialogue in the entire game up to this point. But what does it mean, exactly? I believe most people assume it means he doesn't have a clear sense of who he is outside of his ordained purpose, which is certainly valid, and definitely something I believed for a long time. And yet, this explanation does not deepen our understanding of his character in any meaningful way; looking back over all his interactions with the cast, it does not allow us to glean any further information about him.

And you can say that's because he himself doesn't know what he's like... but again, this doesn't actually change anything, and we just end up with a circular logic trap. We don't know anything because he doesn't tell us anything, and he doesn't tell us anything because he doesn't know anything, so how can we be expected to know anything, except that no-one seems to know anything about him… which is very frustrating to us Ralsei scholars, and gets us no closer to truly understanding him.

But look at what he says again. Really look at it. It’s a very strange way of saying “I don’t really know who I am”, isn’t it? After all, if that’s what he means, then why doesn’t he just say that? I’m certain you’ve realised by now, but it’s because that’s NOT what he’s saying at all. He literally has no clue what being “himself” is supposed to be, because he wasn’t even created with a sense of “Ralsei-ness” in the first place. Little wonder, then, that we can’t discern anything about his internal world, when there is nothing there to be discerned.

But before I elaborate any further, I want to talk about a couple of scenes in Deltarune that are just... puzzling. This is relevant, I promise. The first is during the dialogue with Rouxls Kaard before the rematch with K.Round. Ralsei says something interesting in the lead-up to the fight:

Note Susie’s baffled reaction to this. Then not long afterwards, he continues with:

Throwaway joke, right? We laugh because Susie's right - K. Round and its crown do look exactly the same to us, and so Ralsei's dramatic utterances are deflated and lose their impact. We laugh, beat the boss with Susie's help and forget all about it. But here's the thing - if K.Round looks the same to us, and it looks the same to Susie, and presumably by extension the rest of the in-game characters... when why exactly does Ralsei take the time to insist otherwise?

Is he... lying? Our most precious little boy, guilty of perjury? Say it ain't so! :O

The second scene is in chapter 2 - Queen has challenged us to a game of Punch-Out on her absurdly tall arcade machine, and we can talk to the characters before trying to interact with it. Talk to Ralsei, and if you answer "Gaming is my life" to his prompt, he says this:

Most people don't even come across this in their playthrough, so I wouldn't be surprised if it's new to you reading this. But again, note this strange discrepancy between what Ralsei reports is happening and what Susie says is actually happening. It becomes apparent to most people that Kris can affect the tone of their voice when saying what we tell them to, which affects how the response is taken by other characters and gives us a subtle clue about how they actually feel about certain characters or situations.

Are we to assume, then, that Ralsei isn't actually listening to how Kris says things, but only what they're saying? And if that's correct, then... what does that say about him?

Taken at face-value, within the context of the game, neither of these events really make much sense. It just looks like Ralsei is being overly-dramatic, or lying, or perhaps even insensitive to what their friend is trying to tell him, which doesn't quite track with his per-established shallow traits of kind, all-loving and moralistic. It's perplexing and seemingly out-of-character for him. So it might help to consider, in each of these scenarios, who exactly Ralsei is talking to.

Is it Kris and/or Susie? This would make the most sense, but it's actually not that likely, considering the aforementioned discrepencies between his descriptions and Susie's observations. So is it himself? Again, if he can see things the same as everyone else in-game, that wouldn't make much sense, because then he's just saying stuff that... isn't true? Or in the latter example's case, just completely ignoring what Kris is saying, which doesn't seem to entirely gel with what we know about him.

So, who does that leave? Well, the only other person - or should I say entity - who is present for both of those scenes is... us. The player of Deltarune. And that might seem even stranger than the previous options, until you realise what it is he's actually doing - providing flavour text, additional exposition informing us of details that we wouldn't - or shouldn't - be able to make out on a pixelated display with no voice-acting, attempting to give us a richer sense of these events in order to increase our sense of immersion in the game and world of Deltarune. In effect, he's playing the part of a character in a role playing game, doling out “flavour text” that contradicts another character’s experience of the same scenes, and he's doing it entirely for OUR benefit. Not Kris’s, not Susie's – ours.

He tells us that K.Round's crown is different, and that it is in pain from its forced control, to try and increase the stakes of the fight, and to give us a motivation that's not "here's the exact same boss again lul". He responds to Kris's words the way he does, not because he doesn't understand the nuances of their tone, but to try and amp us up for the upcoming challenge, and to validate our choice when we select the dialogue option "Gaming is my life". Because we cannot hear Kris's tone of voice - and Ralsei knows that. To him, Kris's tone literally doesn't matter, because he doesn't believe it matters to us in that exact moment.

And here’s the thing: if not for Susie’s asides immediately contradicting him, we’d likely take what he says here as what’s actually going on. To Ralsei, the reality he and his friends experience is not important – it’s the image of that reality that he’s trying to convey to the player. It’s like he knows he’s part of a game, meant just for us to experience and enjoy, as opposed to a real world filled with real people having real experiences.

And the reason I brought this up is to illustrate what I believe Ralsei to actually be - namely, that he a walking, talking, singing and dancing amalgam of stock JRPG characters and tropes that's trying very hard to present as an actual person, to the point of knowing absolutely nothing about who he even is outside of that. Put in even blunter terms, he's literally a fluffy goat-shaped vehicle to set the player on their journey through the game, to keep them playing and to keep them invested. People looking for deeper aspects of his character come up short and are disappointed because they're looking for something that does not currently exist.

And just so that I'm clear, I do not mean that Ralsei is "acting", or that he's "wearing a mask", because that would imply that there was actually something underneath his "facade" to begin with. No, this is who the Prince of the Dark is - a very convincing fascimile of a person, following his directive to ensure that the story of Deltarune is resolved, and that the game of Deltarune is played to completion. And once you realise that, a lot of things that Ralsei says and does that seemed strange before suddenly make a lot more sense.

As for the why... well, that'll have to wait for another time. But hopefully you can begin to see how my future essays in this series all tie in to this one, because I think you can only really understand those with the framework that this text provides. I hope that my reasoning made sense and wasn't too difficult to follow, but I'll be happy to provide additional information, clarification, or even just discussion on any aspect of this essay... even if we just wind up (respectfully) agreeing to disagree. Would love to hear what people thought about this!

Thanks for reading!

[ghoulishtomato]

NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM KNOCKOFF MOVIE???

Under the "keep reading" tab, you will see a bullet list of my reaction to a movie I found at Half-Priced Books called Night at the Magic Museum. It'll be me pointing out things about the movie and what I enjoy and whatnot. I do my best to describe what happens in the movie but, again, it's mostly reactions, so not a reliable play by play of the movie's events.

First, the basic plot synopsis of the movie that they have in the back of the DVD case (which is completely true and accurate to the events of the film):

⚡ During a fierce electrical storm, lightning hits a museum creating a magical passageway between our world and the world within the museum's paintings. Ben and Kim (brother and sister) find themselves transported to a 17th century village under siege by Falco, an evil sorcerer learned in the ways of black magic. The kids learn that the evil Falco is in search of the village's most prizes possession: The Jewel of Polaris. With the Jewel, Falco will be unstoppable. Ben and Kim must save the village and return to our world before it's too late.⚡

Now, onto my actual (a little bit disjointed) commentary:

before the actual movie, there was a trailer that had some lovely 90s Fantasy Whimsy, and the scenes/compositions scratched my brain just right that now my hopes for NAT(M)M are probably way too high now. Also, the trailer was for something called The Tiny Kingdom, so ofc my NATM brain thought of Jed and Oct

LOVE the orchestra music that plays over a black screen as they list the credits. If they really wanted to rip off NATM tho, they coulda shown us B Roll of the magic museum. But it serves it's purpose and I love orchestra music so I'm not bothered.

We are now in 1632. A Sharp tongued British man named Falco is sneering at his subordinates (?) and my Red Dwarf brainrot has immediately projected Arnold Rimmer onto him.

Falco is kind of cunty actually. And also sounds EXACTLY like Rimmer.

Very obvious ADR for this one side character, but otherwise, not the worst production! I enjoy this!

This would fuck as an old anime, that's what the dialogue feels like.

It's probably impertinent that I tell y'all right now that I fuck with older shit and actively enjoy what people nowadays would likely call major flaws and "ruining the immersion".

hAHA ISTG THERE IS JUST SOME DUDE WHO ACCIDENTALLY FELL INTO THE SHOT WHEN HE DIDN'T MEAN TO, I LOVE LIVE THEATRE 💀

Some... Editing discrepancies... They say it is raining outside... No it's not 💀 And not enough for there to be flashes of blue lightning visible from inside. But luckily I possess a strong will for suspension of disbelief. And the blue lightning is just sort of a running motif through the movie as a reminder of the real world while they're in the painting.

Ben and Kim are mentioned in the plot synopsis, but they leave out the fact they have a little sister named Casey, who I argue is pretty important to the movie. Kim works at the museum and she has to bring Ben and Casey along with her.

Omg, Armour in a museum. Like Lancelot.

Okay VERY obvious ADR line that was supposed to be said by young teen Ben, but the ADR'd voice sounds like a grown ass man 💀? Quite a few noticable ADR moments that don't quite match up with what's on screen throughout the movie actually.

Alright, paintings can come to life because of lightning. No Egyptian magic here.

God, Ben is such a 90s teen boy.

Very clearly the draw of this movie is not the museum- like at all. It's this ONE painting functioning as a portal and the legit world it leads to. Not in any art style a la the black and white painting in Smithsonian, or the Escher painting in Secret of the Tomb. Just a straight up other world. Painting just sucks Ben and Kim in after lightning strike and spits them out into a hay pile in fantasy land.

There's a menacing guy who fell out of a painting and is now up and about in the museum (not important).

Older sister Kim is coming to ridiculous conclusions to blame Ben for the situation they're in (a la annoying big sister stereotype) but Ben's responses are so calm, candid, and reasonable that it's not annoying to me HAHA

Ben's so fucking funny actually HAHA. Everyone has had at least one surprisingly funny line actually

This Fantasy world low-key reminds me of The Legend of Zelda and I fuck with it. Just a little bit. (But everyone is basically human here; no fish people, or even fairies or hell, not even elves).

Falco is such a cunty asshole. Excellent villain so far oh my gAWD. He's so evil.

People keep mocking each other in this movie it's so funny.

HAHA, OKAY SO- They gave us a magician guy (M) who indirectly is responsible for Lincoln's assassination. This movie is so delightful. M is my new favorite.

M is there, btw, because Casey likes to draw, and he's basic her OC that they manage to get into the painting (in order to help Ben and Kim get home and whatnot) by sticking here drawing to the painting they're in. Yeah, Casey's just hanging in the museum with a security guard named Monty (who also play the magician M. The actor actually has some nice range in this movie!).

If you're like crazy about world building, I hate to tell you that s o m e of the stuff about this isn't real clear to me (like, it's implied the fantasy characters also existed in the real world or something but like??? That doesn't make sense here) so like 💀💀

Fun and creative puzzle moment near the climax :D Just one though. Also, Ben likes to roller skate, and that's helpful for this cave he's in to find some magic jewel to help him and Kim get home (and that he's gotta find before Falco).

Also there was a cave in this movie that Istg I saw in a dream...

There's this voiceover narration for some "Tests of bravery and intelligence" Ben has to do, and the narrator sounds like Crispin Freeman to me, heehee (it's def not him tho).

Btw, sister Kim has been delegated to prisoner waiting to be rescued but this is a late 90s fantasy movie so like... what do I expect.

The acting is kind of 1 Note, all on the same level for the most part. It's not bad by any means, of course, they've all been funny at least.

...... This movie had an extremely lackluster and borderline disappointing climax with all the fantasy land magic jewel shit... 💀 Falco deserved something more grand...

Btw, remember how I said there was a guy from a painting wondering around? Well he seemed to be after Casey for unknown reasons. But he was hardly in the movie 💀 He seemed to pose a threat near the end, but dispatching him was "super easy. Barely an inconvenience!" (A sword shot out of fantasy land painting for some reason and killed him before meeting him back into his painting).

So that's it. Literally NOTHING like Night at the Museum save for magic painting portal. Again, as mentioned in my previous post about the movie (and based on how the movie just looks and functions) it was made in like '99.

So what the fuck is the deal with the EXTREMELY NOTICEABLE Night at the Museum coattail riding???

Well, the company that released the movie (from what I can tell) is Moonbeam films, which wasn't founded until 2012- bUT it's parent company is Full Moon features, which was founded in 1988. So if I were to guess, perhaps Full Moon features made the movie, but Moonbeam released it on DVD.

NOW, THE ORIGINAL TITLE FOR THIS FILM WAS ACTUALLY Search for the Jewel of Polaris: Mysterious Museum. But when it was released on DVD in August of 2012, it was renamed to Night at the Magic Museum (it looks like it had a few other different names it could've been called as well, including just The Magic Museum or Mysterious Museum).

Both these production companies or whatever don't make like... The best films, I guess. Or at the very least, very tongue-in-cheek goofy ass movies that aren't trying to be cinema or anything (which is so valid of them). In fact, Full Moon features is known for shit like Evil Bong, Gingerdead Man, and Gingerdead Man vs. Evil Bong.

The point is- they're not particularly high quality or serious about their movies and productions if I were to take a lucky guess (cause I'm not gonna search THAT deep into this; I'm not a YouTuber who can get paid for it 💀).

SO- I THINK...

Moonbeam Films changed the movie title AND specifically designed the DVD case to match Night at the Museum as close as they possibly could (from the composition down to the font) YEARS after the movie was originally made/released, and a few years after Night at the Museum released it's sequel, Battle of the Smithsonian. Hell, the kid on the DVD cover doesn't even look like the movie's MC, Ben (left) 💀 They just grabbed some random white boy to pose SPECIFICALLY for this.

NATM had proven itself to be- like- EXTREMELY fucking popular among kids, families, and a bunch of gay people who want to see that tiny cowboy and Roman kiss. Like we see with lots of bootlegs, they were likely banking on riding the coattails of NATM's success in order to make money on their low budget crummy movie...

Except like.... Search for the Jewel of Polaris isn't bad? It's nowhere near the level Night at the Museum is production wise, of course. But it's got a homey feel to it. It's got an actual story it's telling, and the actor's do quite a good job! (Especially in the beginning of the movie). It is it's own, quaint little movie that I would like to watch a second time.

To ride on the coattails of another movie kind of shows insecurity about the movie's actual contents I think. I mean, that dinosaur, knight, pirate ship, and weird alien thing we see on the cover?? Not in the damn movie 💀 This attempt to be dishonest about what the movie has to offer while also maybe hoping people confuse it with another, successful movie in order to milk money out of it just looks bad on Moonbeam Films' behalf.

In conclusion: Search for the Jewel of Polaris is NOT a Night at the Museum ripoff, and could never have been, what with being made 6-7 years before the first NATM actually came out. It was rebranded in 2012 as Night at the Magic Museum for DVD releases by Moonbeam Films. It's a cute, simple little movie with it's own charming characters and concept, and you can feel the human touch/heart all throughout it 💛💛

Thank You for reading. ☺️✨ Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be thinking about Falco for forever til eternity.

[jon-sedai]

With Aegon's dream as well, I think he also used the dream to justify a conquest as some sort of heroic quest in his mind when his want for power was definitely part of it as well.

Yea. Imo what makes the prophecy such a cool addition to the books is that we now have something that seemingly gives the Targaryens a "divine" mandate of sorts. With this prophecy, they now have a noble calling. Fate dictates that they serve a higher purpose, them and their dragons. It instils in them a sense of noblesse oblige I'd imagine. They're the heroes, and as heroes they have a duty to the realm. But just because they're chosen ones doesn't mean they're the only ones. Far from it. Even now, with two Targaryens being central to the conflict, there still exists one Bran Stark whose magic is decidedly NOT Valyrian, but he is just as central to this story if not more so. Even Jon Snow, the last of the Targaryen heirs, uses First Men magic. Not to mention that there are so many people (i.e., the Night's Watch) who have no magical destiny, but they see a duty to the realm just the same. Don't they matter too?

Aegon's actions, or lack thereof, speak to a certain human fallacy in placing any one person as the supreme hero in this story. Because it's not until Alyssane that the Targaryens even paid attention to the Watch, an entity whose entire existence is to stop the Others/Winter. Why didn't Aegon himself do anything? Why didn't he leave instructions for his future descendants to help the Watch either? Did he think that the three conquerors and their dragons would be enough? But that would be so silly because there's no record that they held any extensive tours of the north/the Wall to try and understand what threat they were facing. The winter that brings the Others is magical, and there's the chance that dragons will have a very hard time even flying to begin with. So imagine not strengthening the front line to hold until you get there? Who knows how long the dragons would take to even get to the Wall in the first place.

We really don't know anything so it's all just speculation atp. But regardless, his actions do come off as being rather egoistic. The Watch is the first line of defense. And if the Wall falls, Winterfell is the next front line. Why didn't they even bother to strengthen Winterfell? Maybe I've read too many Wuxia stories but it's always kind of funny how a good emperor is often characterized as one who fully and wholeheartedly supports the general in charge of his front line with troops, money, and other resources. That general in this case is the Lord of Winterfell/Warden of the North. Why he did nothing to bring the Starks into the fold before Rhaegar and Lyanna is beyond me; but to Jace's credit, he did try. But imagine. Aegon didn't look north to Winterfell, but instead looked south to Dorne. You have to laugh.

Aegon reminds me of Azor Ahai tbh - or what we're told of him. It's the story of one singular hero who sacrifices someone else and gets to go down in history as the guy who defeated the enemy. Except it's so diametrically opposed to actual Westerosi legends of who ended the Long Night: legends of the last hero and the NW tell stories of a team effort, with no singular person being exalted as the one responsible for the Others' defeat. Even with the last hero, the children of the forest are the key to success.

But at the end of the day, Aegon's legacy as the conqueror will have good and bad in it. Did he have a huge ego? Sure. Did his silly chair do way more harm than good in the long run? Definitely. BUT, hundreds of years later, it's his descendant who is emboldened as a king of a united realm to go north and do his duty. Stannis is acting as the Protector of the Realm, the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, legacies left by Aegon. Jon Snow, the last of Aegon's heirs in Westeros, wants to save all men. All of Aegon's kingdom. And I'm not saying that Jon wouldn't want to save humanity if the kingdoms were split up, but it's a lot easier to conceptualize duty when you have one unified people to think about. And it will be Daenerys, Aegon the Conqueror come again, who understands that a queen belongs to all people. Which may not have landed as much had Aegon not conquered and united Westeros under one king to begin with.

[margaretkart]

I showed this analysis to SaraFangirlArt and I wanted to comment it to you too.

(long analysis) It always pisses me off when people say that Andromeda has no agency in her myth and they fix it by having her

:1-Choose to sacrifice herself

2-Accept Phineus as her fiancé

3-Hate Perseus.

They throw away everything that the myth symbolizes.

Andromeda is literally given away as a sacrifice for her parents' mistakes, she has to pay for something they committed and they are not even capable of trying to change their daughter's fate.

They do not look for ways to save both the kingdom and their daughter, they put duty above their daughter's feelings, even though that does not mean that they are happy that their daughter is going to die, but they put her life below duty.

They take away all her autonomy, she is chained (unlike other women who were used as sacrifices) and stripped naked, she is humiliated and stripped of all dignity and ability to choose her own future.

Andromeda is sacrificed in the name of family duty and for her kingdom, having to fulfill family expectations and her duty to her parents against her will.

Her engagement to Phineus follows that same line, she was an only woman, daughter of the kings, women could not rule at that time and she had to marry to produce male heirs, grandchildren who could serve as heirs to her father, so choosing Phineus (apart from being family) was not really Andromeda's choice, it was another situation where she had to fulfill family duty.

Historically, royal women suffered a lot of pressure and could not choose their future.

That is why the work of Euripides (famous for including family conflicts in his works) portrays it that way in his work Andromeda: Andromeda's dilemma between her parents' wishes/family duty and what she wants to choose.

In that case, Andromeda's chains are not only physical but also metaphorical, Perseus literally acts as her liberator.

Love is used here as a redeemer, love is the force that frees Andromeda from her suffering and gives her purpose and choice.(Perseus literally asks Eros for help)

Perseus restores her dignity, makes her his wife instead of some mistress/slave/concubine and gives her an honorable place.

Perseus changes what everyone believed was "fate" by showing Andromeda that she was not bound to follow what her parents wanted of her.Andromeda DECIDES to marry Perseus, she chooses the life she wants to have, even if her parents disapprove, she is now going to live a life where she will not have to fulfill her family duty.

And the contrasts between Phineus and Perseus are clear:

Pineus: He was a "coward" who did not rescue his fiancée and did not even care that she was in that situation, his motivation to marry her was the power and benefits that marriage would bring him.

Perseus: He was the brave and heroic hero who rescued her, his motivation was love for her, Perseus fell in love and that was the force that freed her (physically and metaphorically) and was the salvation of the kingdom.

Even in Euripides' work it is mentioned that Perseus is a very good match (much better than Phineus) not because he is approved by Andromeda's parents, but because he is someone noble and virtuous, and most importantly Andromeda loves him.

Extra data added:

•Perseus arrives and discovers Andromeda as she flies by with Hermes' slippers (flying was always a symbol of freedom)

•Everything happens in relation to the sea: Cassiopeia offends the Sea Deities and they are the ones who punish Andromeda, they sent a sea monster and she was tied up by the sea.(I also find it symbolic that Perseus is a fisherman) Since the sea often also represents freedom/escape, new beginnings, journey/transition, birth/rebirth.Andromeda was already stripped of all her agency and autonomy long before Perseus ‼️ it was for the first time with Perseus that she had a choice and did not have to conform to her parents' decisions and family duty. If they change that, they take away all meaning and essence from the myth, which makes it meaningless.

That's a very good analysis worth being mentioned when many simply choose to ignore Andromeda as a character important to the myth.

[musubiki]

do you have any lore about the crow witch's guild? i'd love to learn more about them please! i'm especially curious about augury because he left his sister to join the coattails.

YEAH!!!!!!! THE SECOND BEST GUILD IN THE WHOLE STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!

So the crow guild backstory goes like this:

a sweet family consisting of three siblings: augurie (the oldest), murda (the middle child) and corven (the baby). for reasons unknown, their parents are no longer with them and so its just been the three of them together for quite some time, and they are very close. This guild follows the close family trope where your siblings are essentially your best friends and theres no one closer to you than them (think dipper/mabel)

Notes about the blackbird family: all of them are insanely smart (stemming from how crows are very smart animals). sometimes way too smart for their own good, and fighting them is always the kind of battle where its supper hard, not because theyre particular strong but because they have ridiculous amounts of strategy on the fly (in this case, murda is ALSO very strong)

They are one of the only guilds in the story where the guild master is not actually the witch (ie, shes not the "leader"). murda trusts auguries judgement more than her own, so she delegated the role of guild master to him

something to note before continuing is that in tcwg, theres a witch stereotype of "not having a son before a daughter". im not sure if this is something magic can influence exactly, but having a son first is always a worry because more often than anyone would like, the firstborn goes down the route of "it fucking sucks that just because i was born a male, i cant inherit this amazing power and have to watch it go to my stupid baby sister" (since males cant be witches anymore), and ends up doing something dumb like joining the coattails

anyway, this is (seemingly) exactly what happens here. at some unknown point in time after murda is already a witch, the rumors have it that her and her older brother had a falling out, and he has since joined the coattails.

another sidenote: the coattails now, in nature, are not something you can easily just...sign up for. most of them are unthinking and serve a single purpose of farming witches magic-- some have evolved enough to become sentient, and in some cases if you serve a similar cause as determined by the sentient ones, you can have the opportunity to corroborate with them (so far only notably achieved by amanita and augurie)

so after augurie leaves, he convinces the coattails he is an asset and that the purpose of the witch king appeals to him as it entails that males will once again be able to hold magic and he can kill his sister to get it. they buy this and he becomes an admin, ie he can lead legions and access resources they have

Corven stays with murda as her only guild member and they live in Ardovs Quarry (urban rainy town in the north of the kingdom), and are currently trying to get their brother back

When mochi and lime pop into this main quest, this is essentially how it goes:

corven met mochi and lime once before for an unrelated side quest, and considers them to be friends (even though they only met once but this is the tcwg style)

murda is reluctant to ask them for help, claims this is a family matter and its none of their business, and getting involved will cause nothing but trouble (true). but theyve exhausted all other avenues at that point, so with a little persuasion from corven, she agrees to let mochi and lime help

theres numerous steps to tracking down augurie, and every time they get a lead and encounter him he seems to be doing something that inches him towards some overarching goal (the in-betweens of the main quest are still up in the air, but its essentially bonding time for the two guilds)

the final confrontation is when they finally track him down to the "root" of the coattails located in the ruins of the old kingdom of the first witch king.

NOW--interrupting to talk a little about auguries magic guild item: its a scythe that reaps magic. theres little potion bottles on the end which can hold up to three different kinds of magic power that can be used independently for a short time after theyve been activated. so far in his scythe he has taken (throughout his time in the coattails) the following magic power: the magic of the snake witch, toad witch, and spider witch. the crow and cat are there with him, so all those together, they have the magic force equivalent to the witch king (for a short time, anyway)

at this point its revealed that auguries plot goes like this: the witch king brought the coattails to life with his magic, so the only way to properly control them or, as augurie corrects, to end them, is with the equivalent power.

augurie joined the coattails in order to get close to them, track down the root (which has been hidden for centuries), gather the main witches magic without putting them in danger directly, take it to the root and reverse the coattails origins spell as best he can. god knows where he even learned this was all possible, but thats the genius of the crow guild

im unsure if murda was in on this plot from the beginning, and pretended to have a falling out with him to enact the whole thing INCLUDING bringing mochi there for the cats power, or if she was oblivious to his intentions and he was acting alone and actually genuinely broke her heart to make the story more convincing

anyway, they actually are able to reverse the coattails origin spell!!! (lime and corven almost fucking die for real fending off an army of coattails while augurie/murda/mochi reverse the spell). the way it actually turned out is that any coattails still in the overworld still had their old "mission," but if they are purged and returned to the root, then augurie has full control to give them a new mission (which will eventually serve as the witches army against the witch king), so after the completion of this quest, the coattails are much less of a threat

afterwards, augurie returns to murdas guild and continues to look into the return of the witch king. he serves as the strategist/healer for the group and is like that main quest guy you go back and report to when youve made progress advancing the storyline that goes "Ah... so all these things happened when you went to [place] huh... no time to rest, heres the next step-"

[childofchrist1983]

It is easy for us to fear we may not know Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ when we backslide into sin or when we are trusting our own feeble wills to make ourselves believe we are saved. One purpose for which the Apostle John wrote his first epistle (letter) was to show his believing Christian readers how they might be assured of the eternal life they in fact had.

It is possible to be a true child of God and yet suffer from doubts and fears over our true state before God. But in such cases, we should remember that "God is greater than our hearts and knows all things" (1 John 3:20). His Spirit can witness to our spirit that we are the children of God. When we rely on His Holy Word and Spirit to assure our hearts and let no cloud of sin come between us and Him, then we have confidence toward God. May God give us such confidence in what He has done for us. Thank God for His presence during each season of life. The fruits we bear are the product of His light and love that surpasses all our expectations. May He help us to be more sensitive to the teaching ministry of His Holy Word and Spirit, relying on Him and allowing Him to speak to us and guide us every step of our Christian journey.

God gave us the Holy Bible - His living and Holy Word - to let us know of Him and His abiding love and care as well as guide and prepare us for all our lives. May He help us encourage one another as we continue our walk with Him and our duty to Him daily. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for being present for all our new beginnings and all our lives. May He redirect any anxiety we feel as He provides countless opportunities for growth and change. May we humble ourselves before God always, asking Him to forgive our sins and make our hearts and lives anew through His Holy Word and Spirit. May He help us make Him and His Holy Word top priority, so we can grow spiritually and grow in our relationship with Him as we apply it to our daily lives. Thank God that we can focus on Him and everything about Him, for that is what keeps us sane and at peace. May our words and actions always be a reflection of Him and His Holy Word and Spirit and will.

Everyday, we must remember to thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for the grace that He poured out for us on the cross at Calvary. He has freed us from the burdens of sin and guilt. May He help us to always walk in His grace and Holy Spirit, not by our own measure. May He give us the humble humility to know that our freedom and eternal salvation is found only in Him, so that His grace may sustain us, and we may never lose sight of His love and light and mercy. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for calling us to Him and to serve Him. May He equip us to do all that He has called us to do so that as He works through us, He may use us to produce fruit, to reach others, and to encourage all brothers and sisters in Christ. May He work all of these things in us and through us for His Kingdom and His glory. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all His creation, for His miraculous ways and for everything He does and has done for us! Keep the faith and keep moving forward in your walk with Jesus! He loves us and He knows what is best for us. Seek, follow and trust in Him - Always!

Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Word and for sending His Holy Spirit so that we might have His grace, not only to awaken us and transform our hearts in our spiritual rebirth and guarantee our eternity with Him, but to also call upon Him whenever we are in need. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all the reminders of His love and mercy and faithfulness within His Holy Word. He is bigger than any challenge or circumstance in our lives. Knowing this within our minds and our hearts, nothing can deter our faith in Him and His Truth. May we all accept Him and His eternal gift of salvation and ask that He would transform our hearts and lives according to His will and ways. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Spirit who saves, seals and leads us. May we always thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His almighty power and saving grace. For He is our strength, and He alone is able to save us, forgive our sins and gift us eternal salvation and entry into His Kingdom of Heaven.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world daily. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Holy Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful LORD, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

[thewolfisawake]

Somairle is not considered a general although he is often at their matters. It is generally agreed amongst the generals that he is simply too young. While this does annoy him occasionally, Somairle does get it. He isn't one with much combative experience like Siubhan and isn't as experience with political games like Risteard nor even in subterfuge like Solanine. Sometimes he has wondered why Balmoral has allowed him to stay despite his relative little use. Sometimes he thinks of what Mhoirbheinn calls him 'little toy' and if that is what he deems him or if that's what Balmoral really thinks.

The answer is relatively simple and although likely still seems 'odd.' Balmoral just found Somairle endearing and had no desire to see him go down with his family. He found it similar but different to the care of his juniors under his command but much more personable than people only there because of the hierarchy between them.And furthermore Somairle, while he doesn’t think much of it, was an integral part of the invasion of the castle. He’s done Balmoral really solid and Balmoral has no reason to not hold onto someone that good. 

But there is a fondness that Balmoral has for Somairle and while it is kind of a joke amongst the generals, it is true that he thinks of the youth as a sibling. Balmoral has never really grown up with a family. The dynamics he knows of are from observation and anecdotes. So this is different grounds for him but honestly, he loves what is his a lot so it seems very natural to him in his affection for Somairle. Yes, he is young but that means he has time to learn. Which is why he is often at general meetings and attending the forums. He also is assisting the generals here and there. And that is purposeful as well. 

Risteard has picked up first that Somairle is likely whom Balmoral has chosen to try to be his inheritor. Someone that has lived alongside enough of the king’s antics and rule to understand his vision. And someone that Balmoral could feel would be responsible with the kingdom. He’s just..inexperienced but since everyone projects that Bal is gonna rule for quite a while, it is time for Somairle to learn and grow. And that is what they expect to do. 

However the time to establish what has never been done before and planning the safeguards takes time. A lot more time than Balmoral was expecting. There were other hurdles considering who Somairle is and the other questions surrounding a crown and those that surround it. Because the people mainly considered Balmoral’s rule as an exception, not the norm. So this was where establishing a line was brought up and decided on even if Bal would eventually enact his original intention with meritocracy. 

This is where the twins come in. They had grown up around the affairs of the crown and were taught by the generals since they could talk. So they have been steeped in it further and Somairle had suggested he just step aside as the twins have more talent than he did. However, Balmoral hasn’t completely given in to the idea. Mainly because of how Somairle operates (him more of ‘stealthy’ type to Bal’s more straightforward approaches), he downplays his own capability. And insists that when they figure out the testing for who can take the throne, that he still participate. If one of the twins wins, then it’s meant to be. But basically it’s better to try and fail than to never try at all. 

To Sceolan and Nathair, it’s a semi-serious joke that he is their rival. They both respect him immensely and both can cede he would be a good choice. Nathair actually has little interest in ruling at all. He rather be an adviser than have to do all the appearances and the like the actual king would have to do. And he would want nothing more than to serve either his sister or Somairle. Sceolan can commiserate with Somairle on not feeling worthy but they also are a bit of each other’s cheerleader in their capability to improve. If she lost to Somairle, it is the only case she would not begrudge. So there isn’t bad blood amongst them. 

But what is agreed amongst them is that none of them expect nor want to take over any time soon. They want Balmoral to rule for a good and long time. The lower end is the longest in the Unseelie history (which isn’t impossible by any means) but the highest is to ‘longer than the Seelie ruler, even by one year.’

[leftistfeminista]

At noon on the last Sunday in July, the atmosphere surrounding the culminating event of the Rural Exposition was sharp enough to cut with a knife. President Javier Milei's physical proximity to Vice President Victoria Villarruel, his current arch-enemy, was the highlight of the day. 

The truth is that the animosity between the two is already public knowledge, to the point that even the official press admits that the bond that united them is "all broken" and that she "is no longer part of the Government" (Jonatan Viale by TN ).

A paradox, since perhaps the libertarian leader would still be an average figure if fate hadn't brought him together with that woman.

It's worth paying attention to her figure, then: The Visitor . While not as rustic as the now-forgotten Cecilia Pando, this 49-year-old lawyer steadfastly carries out her work in defense of the genocide perpetrators through the Center for Legal Studies on Terrorism and its Victims (CELTyV), an NGO of her own making. She has also published two books on the subject, in addition to appearing on TV programs like Intratables . This activism in favor of what she calls "complete memory" has given her a modest celebrity and the appreciation of Jorge Rafael Videla himself, whom she frequently visited in the Marcos Paz prison, in addition to being received by other repressors. 

No one then imagined that she, a mere groupie of genocidaires, would become vice president of the nation. 

Already in the midst of the election campaign, when her visits to such scumbags came to light, she simply claimed that the purpose of this was to "document all the voices" to compile them in a book. 

Was he referring to They Call Them Young Idealists (2009), his alleged debut work in the field of literature, or to The Other Dead (2014), written in alleged co-authorship with a certain Carlos Manfroni? 

In this case, the word "alleged" isn't arbitrary. In this regard, one of his "visitors" stands out: former Navy Captain Alberto González (aka "El Gato"), an ESMA henchman with intellectual tendencies, whom Villarruel considers his "trainer."

In fact, her meetings with him—also at the Marcos Paz prison—were not only frequent, but she was often accompanied by other deniers eager to meet the illustrious inmate. Among them was Mrs. Pando.

Well, in a post uploaded by that woman on July 23, 2022 on X (formerly Twitter), she says: "I met Alberto González through Victoria Villarruel. We went to the prison together, and he showed us a book he was writing, which she later signed."

It doesn't hurt to put the spotlight on the ghost writer in question.

González is currently serving two life sentences. The first (ESMA Case II) for his role in the disappearance of 86 people; in the other (ESMA Case III), his toll rises to 789 victims. He is also serving a 20-year sentence for raping women captive in the Navy's underworld. In short, in addition to being a torturer and murderer, that man is a vulgar "violeta," the slang term for rapists in the "tumbera" (a type of violet). 

This is what Silvia Labayru recounted when she described – not only before the courts but also in her testimony for the book La llamada (The Call ), by Leila Guerrero – her time at the ESMA at the age of 20, where she was turned into his “sexual prize.” The man not only raped her in that dungeon, but also used to take her to a love hotel and his own home – a “Western and Christian” home on Marcelo T. de Alvear Street 1960 – where his wife, Amalia Bouilly, joined in the rapes, while their daughter, only three years old, slept in an adjoining room. 

Under democracy, González was assigned to Argentina's naval attachés in the United Kingdom and the Netherlands. 

Upon his return, he studied History at the University of Belgrano. In 1989, he was appointed head of research at the Navy's Department of Historical Studies. Three years later, he was retired because he was deemed "unfit for service."

In 2005, while already imprisoned at the Zárate Naval Base, a close friend of his, retired Colonel Marcelo Villarruel (aka "El Cachucha"), used to visit him (at the end of 1975, the guy had participated in Operation Independence against the ERP in Tucumán, where he is remembered for his fierce interrogations). The fact is that, on one occasion, he went to visit González accompanied by his daughter, Victoria. The (intellectual) crush between the two was immediate. 

It's possible that his blend of murderous and academic virtues made Dr. Villarruel dazzled by him. Since then, by the way, she sees herself as his "disciple." And the good González even ceded the authorship of his texts to her. Moving. Could there have been a romantic bond between them, as, for example, the libertarian intellectual Nicolás Márquez privately hints? Only God knows.