#burden for truth

[anouri]

Fernando Pessoa from The Book of Disquiet (1982)

[maddymoreau]

Thinking about how Diavolo’s feelings transcend time and how in the Nightbringer UR+ card Demon Lord’s Castle Tour this conversation happens.

When asked, “Do you wish to see your father?”

Diavolo responds:

“I suppose I do . . .” isn’t the typical reaction to how a child would feel about wanting to see their parent. Especially when said parent has essentially been in a coma for a year.

Along with how Diavolo describe his father.

It makes more sense why when you learn in Lesson 56 how Diavolo was treated by him growing up.

Diavolo can tell when others are lying but is unable to understand his father’s intentions.

Diavolo mentions that he lived a very sheltered life growing up. That from a young age his father never allowed him a chance to talk to anyone outside the castle.

His childhood friend was Mephistopheles. A demon literally RAISED to be his friend. Putting a barrier between the two because Mephistopheles would put Diavolo on a pedestal.

The isolating childhood he experienced riddled with his strict father constantly scolding him.

Despite everything MC is so important to him he wants to see his father again so we can meet.

[queenvhagar]

"I thought I wanted it. But the burden is a heavy one. It's too heavy. If you wish me to bear it then defend me. And my children."

I wonder what burden she feels she's holding at this moment. We know that she isn't speaking of the burden of ruling and managing the realm for the last several years while her father was sick, because while she was on Dragonstone, those duties fell to the Hand and the Queen. As far as the show tells us, Rhaenyra has no specific duties she's fulfilling as heir, nor has she been doing anything in particular to prepare to rule. We're not shown that she's doing anything with her time beyond anything beyond managing Dragonstone with Daemon and growing her family. So what exactly in her life at this moment is she seeing as this massive burden that she bears because she's heir to the throne?

I think the burden she's speaking of here is actually the pressure she's feeling as she's finally being faced with the idea that her father won't always be around to help her avoid the consequences of her actions. So even though it's obvious that he's on the edge of death, in immense pain, barely hanging on, and despite the fact that she hasn't visited him at this point in literal years despite knowing about his ailing health and she's done nothing to support him in ruling in his last years, she still feels entitled enough to demand that he do another massive favor for her. At this point, Rhaenyra has been enabled by her father for so many years that she doesn't know how to solve a problem without him. So she plays the heir card on Viserys to get him to defend her one more time: if you want me to be queen, and you don't want me to be held accountable and face consequences, help me get away with it one more time.

Rhaenyra is upset not because of any real burden she has as heir but because she feels like the walls are closing in and she's under attack. I would feel some sympathy for her if it weren't for the fact that she wouldn't be in this situation if she'd made better choices. If literally anyone else in the realm had obvious bastards they were using to usurp a seat of power, there would be huge consequences. Rhaenyra knows this and is doing it anyway because she thinks her position as heir to the throne gives her the power to be able to do it and get away with it. Her birthright as a Targaryen says she deserves absolute power because she's better than other people, so she can do no wrong and nobody can say otherwise to her. She believes she's clever enough to pass the deception, and otherwise her father can punish anyone who speaks up... until Vaemond goes to court, and her father is not there to blankly support her no matter what. Now, she's faced with people who intend to uphold the law of the land and she's upset that she might actually be confronted with her problems head on and not have someone to shield her this time.

[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Prologue

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Prologue: On the Precipice

Summary: In 2018, (Y/N) discovers grief as people turn to dust and the world turns to chaos.

Mouse Note: Welcome to Burden of Truth! Kind of a rough beginning, but, hey, how else do you become an Avatar to a god? Anyways, housekeeping: This is a platonic fic, so anyone who suggests anything inappropriate between an adult and minor will be blocked and deleted. That's pretty much it, but I wanted to make it clear. As for the actual fic, there aren't any warnings other than the violence that Marvel shows. I'm really excited to share this series! Please feel free to comment since I'm always up to answering questions and replying to comments. Plus it makes me keep writing. Without further ado, though, please enjoy!

2018…

            (Y/N) gasped for breath, but their lungs refused to bring in the air they needed. Every limb ached, and their heart beat against their chest. It stuttered, refusing to work correctly. The edges of (Y/N)’s visions blurred to black.

            Everything had gone wrong. They had thought this summer would be a beautiful one, traveling with their parents. Egypt was lovely, and (Y/N) liked to listen to their parents—anthropology and history professors—tell them about the rich history and culture of the country.

            Plus, they were far away from New York where strange aliens had recently attacked and fought Iron Man and a strange wizard. They were safe with their family and free to enjoy themself.

  ��         And then people turned to dust.

            Screams echoed as loved ones disappeared before people’s very eyes. Cars crashed without drivers. Buses overturned and threw out people and sand. Cries went out as crashes sent metal through limbs—through torsos.

            Through (Y/N)’s torso.

            (Y/N) couldn’t even move to cover their chest as it bled. They didn’t try to. They knew they were dying. They didn’t want to (gods, please, no, I don’t want this I don’t want this) but they were.

            And they couldn’t even reach out to hold their mom and dad’s hands. (Y/N) felt like a child again, but unlike nightmares, they couldn’t run to their parents’ arms to feel safe. Even if they could, the chill of death had already taken their parents’ warmth and comfort.

            (Y/N) wished they’d all turned to dust. This was violent, painful, agonizing. Their parents had laid beside them in distress, calling out for help and rescue, dying. No one had come.

            And now (Y/N) was alone—the world hadn’t even been kind enough to let them die before their parents.

            This was just so wrong. Unfair. Unjust.

            “It is unjust.” A calm voice spoke.

            (Y/N) didn’t move. They couldn’t, and they were already dying. Their situation couldn’t get worse.

            “I can feel your pain.”

            This time, a woman, taller than humanely possible, appeared in their line of sight. She knelt among the dust and bodies of the bus and gazed at (Y/N).

            She was Egyptian, dressed in a red gown, and wore an intricate necklace of gold and turquoise. Multicolored Sleeves swept out with her arms like wings. Silky black hair fell around her shoulders, and her eyes were lined in kohl. An ostrich feather stood in a circlet and swayed in the wind.

            (Y/N)’s eyes landed on the feather, and something in their chest pulled towards it.

            The woman tilted her head and watched them in assessment. “You sense the truth.”

            “Who…” (Y/N)’s hoarse voice died.

            “I am the goddess Ma’at.” The wind whipped around her as she spoke. “I am in search of a guardian. To uphold justice in the face of wrongdoing. To protect harmony from discord. To defend truth from falsehood.”

            (Y/N) coughed, and Ma’at tilted her head.

            “I can see the truth in your heart. You want justice for everyone who suffers like you,” said Ma’at. She leaned in. “Pledge yourself to me, pledge yourself to the truth, and I will give you the life to do so.”

            (Y/N) looked into Ma’at’s eyes and summoned all their strength left.

            “Yes.”

l

2023…

            (Y/N) crouched on the roof and dropped onto the balcony below them. The house around them was quiet. The security guards were clueless to their approach, which was just fine. They didn’t want any attention.

            (Y/N) opened the sliding door of the balcony and slipped into the display room. They glanced around themself in distaste. None of the artifacts in glass cases belonged to the owner of this house. He’d “acquired” them in the aftermath of the Blip left countries in disarray, just so like many others.

            After the return of the Blipped, the problem of stolen artifacts had only gotten worse since the chaos had begun again, letting more people profit off the displaced people and their possessions.

            (Y/N) had spent years repatriating the stolen relics from the aftermath of the Blip. This man, Mr. Medrano, was among the worst offenders. He lied about his findings as an “archaeologist” and stole what he needed for glory. And along the way, he removed any competition. A thief, a liar, and a killer. Medrano was a man who brought injustice of all kinds to the world.

            And that was precisely what (Y/N) stood against—what Ma’at stood against.

            (Y/N) stopped in front of a case of Egyptian artifacts. Their eyes scanned the contents for the relic they were supposed to bring back to Egypt (send back, really, by way of another person. (Y/N) was still just a teenager, so they couldn’t send it back themself without raising suspicions. Luckily, putting something in a hidden box and not showing their face did the trick).

            (Y/N) frowned. The hieroglyphic tablet of Tethering wasn’t on the wall. It seemed they were later than expected, and Medrano had begun to work on translation.

            Which means it’ll be in his office.

            (Y/N) went to the door of the display room and peeked outside. No light, no movement. They moved into the hall and crept down towards the room at the other side of the house. Making sure their gloves were on—no sense leaving fingerprints—(Y/N) reached out and felt the door handle.

            The door was unlocked.

            Gently, (Y/N) opened it.

            Shick!

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they took a step back. A man in a white, bandage-like suit stood above Medrano. He pulled two crescent-shaped blades from his chest, and Medrano’s body slumped to the ground. The man paused and looked towards the door, the moon sighting the crescent-illusion in his hood and the symbol on the forehead and chest.

            “There wasn’t supposed to be anyone here,” said the man, but (Y/N) felt in their heart that he wasn’t speaking to them.

            “Does it matter? Your job is to punish the wrongdoers in this mansion.”

            (Y/N) blinked as they heard a voice echo from behind them. It was a god’s voice. Not Ma’at, no, but most definitely a deity.

            “I won’t hurt a kid, Khonshu,” snapped the avatar, and his hood folded back.

            (Y/N) turned around and found themself staring up (really up) at a half-man, half-bird skeleton in white wrappings. This was Khonshu.

            “I’m not a wrongdoer,” said (Y/N) to Khonshu, holding up their hands. “I’m, uh, an Avatar.”

            At that, Khonshu and man stopped.

            “You can see him?” said the man, frowning warily.

            “I’m the Avatar of Ma’at,” said (Y/N). They shifted. They weren’t used to saying that. “She’s the goddess of truth.” They could see the “truth” of the world more than others, and that included the gods that walked among them.

            “That ostrich is interfering with my work,” said Khonshu, irritated.

            “You are the one who is not supposed to interfere with human business,” said Ma’at’s calm voice, and (Y/N) glanced at the office’s large window to find her sitting on the sill.

            Khonshu’s avatar looked at the window but saw nothing. “Is another god here?”

            (Y/N) nodded sharply. This was a little too much. They were used to working by themself.

            “You are doing the exact same thing,” said Khonshu.

            “I am returning artifacts to our people,” said Ma’at. “I am not interfering in human life more than that.” She glanced at Medrano’s body. “Unlike some.”

            Khonshu tsked. “I am delivering justice.”

            “A type, yes,” said Ma’at.

            “Ma’at,” said (Y/N) quietly. “I’m going to take the tablet..”

            “Go ahead, (Y/N),” said Ma’at. “Khonshu will not harm you. You have done no wrong.”

            “They interfered with my work,” said Khonshu.

            “Irritating is not wrongdoing,” said Ma’at.

            (Y/N) decided to leave before the gods continued to argue. It made them uncomfortable. Then again, a lot of interaction did. (Y/N) hadn’t really gotten to slow down and make friends after 2018, so they’d grown used to their own company (or Ma’at’s). Everything else was business, and anything more was out of their realm of understanding.

            (Y/N) opened their bag and slipped the wrapped tablet carefully from the table inside. They looked decidedly away from Medrano’s body, glanced at Khonshu’s avatar, and left the room.

            If that’s what Avatars and gods outside of themself and Ma’at were like, (Y/N) didn’t want to meet them.

l

2025…

            “(Y/N).”

            The now-seventeen-year-old raised their eyes from the book they were reading. “Yes, Ma’at?”

            “I have an important job for you.”

            (Y/N) frowned. Ma’at never described anything as “important.” Necessary? Yes. Important? No. Everything was equally pertinent to upholding justice and order to Ma’at.

            “I need you to retrieve a scarab.”

            “Who stole it?” asked (Y/N).

            “You are.”

            (Y/N) looked at Ma’at in surprise. “What?” Ma’at disliked any injustice or unlawful actions.

            “You are stealing the scarab of Ammit,” said Ma’at.

            Ammit.

            Ammit ruled the scales in the Judgement of the Dead. Ma’at was the Feather of Truth against which human hearts were weighed. One had abandoned true justice; one continued to defend it.

            And (Y/N) was stuck in the middle with the burden to protect the truth of it all.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

[toooticki]

You will carry what happened here with you for the rest of your life 

[carmineline]

jiang cheng // the moon will sing

[chirpsythismorning]

With Birthdaygate pretty much confirmed, here are two moments from 4x02 Vecna's Curse that hit different...

(1) First we have Jonathan stopping Will as he goes into Rink-O-Mania to tell him something. Will turns around quickly and almost looks, dare I say, hopeful?

But why would that be the case? Unless of course there's something Will's waiting for Jonathan to say, that he hasn't said yet? Happy Birthday perhaps? Surprise Will! We didn't forget your birthday! We're coming in! We have a party planned and everything! Meet you inside! (interesting that there were birthday decorations in there as well...)

Unfortunately, all Jonathan does is tell Will that they'll be back to pick them up at 6:00. And so Will goes from sad, to hopeful, only to go back to looking sad again...

I think a lot of fans attributed Jonathan's concerned looks in this moment as him knowing about Will's feelings for Mike. And I do still think that's present, especially as he's telling Will they'll be there to pick them up later. In that specific moment he sounds sympathetic like Sorry buddy, that sucks.

However, the look Jonathan makes after Will turns away, as Argyle starts driving off, doesn't look like sympathy or pity from someone witnessing unrequited love. It looks like confusion and almost deja vu being experienced by Jonathan himself. As if he's forgetting something, but doesn't know what it is...

(2) Next is at the very end of Will and Mike's fight. Mike sort of echoes the same level of frustration he had during their rain fight, when he said It's not my fault you don't like girls. We know the scenes parallel each other, and how after both of those things are said, there's this silence that takes over, making clear that this is as far as they can go, otherwise they might risk hurting each other beyond fixing. We see both of them make faces of deep emotion here, because they probably are also being reminded of their fight last summer.

And so Will's options here were to, either (A) take it even further and risk hurting Mike more than he's hurting him, or (B) just don't say anything and let the argument end there before it gets beyond repair.

But the thing is, it almost looked like Will was going to say something. He quite literally mouths the word But-- only to cut himself off all together, looking defeated.

Here's what I think. THIS would have been the perfect moment for Will to say, But, you forgot my birthday, Mike. If it was genuinely something as simple as Mike and everyone simply forgetting and needing a reminder, without any supernatural implications involved, I think this would have been the moment to do it.

It would have also mirrored their rain fight even better because it would have been Will saying something and likely walking away, leading to Mike being like OH SHIT I have to fix this! I messed up.

But we all know it's not that simple.

As far as Will knowns, EVERYONE forgot his birthday, not just Mike. And so him calling out Mike here, might have felt slightly unjustified in that it wasn't just him who forgot.

It's almost like they're not the problem here, he is. (WILL POV ANGST)

That's what truly makes the scenes at Rink-O-Mania so heartbreaking. Because it wasn't just about Mike and El ignoring him, it was the fact that it was his literal birthday. All the most important people in his life, who used the literal memory of his birthday to bring him back bc they cared about him so much in the past, have now apparently forgot about him in the present.

Not to mention, the story not blatantly acknowledging his birthday being forgotten in the narrative of s4, means that it was framed this way bc the whole point was they only wanted it to be hinted at in s4, saving it as a surprise revelation in s5.

And so, if Will did say here, but Mike, you forgot my birthday, how would that have impacted the conflict in s4 and Vecna's plan as a whole, specifically for Will? All it would have taken was them connecting the dots after that, figuring out Vecna's plan before he could even reach Will, rendering s5 plotless?...

S5 is likely going to jump right into this, there's too much incriminating evidence about unused footage at the Rink-O-Mania location. It also fits with them not mentioning it in s4 if it's intended to be an early s5 revelation.

TBH with all the storylines going on in s4, them exploring the depths of Will's connection to Vecna just wasn't an option, bc they wouldn't have been able to do it justice. He needs to be front and center for that.

They're clearly saving the best for last...

[lemonboyjosten]

whenever neil gets into a heated argument with anyone and things escalate up to a point where andrew’s amusement has had enough, andrew picks him up, throws him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and gets him to safety; just like he promised. however, when neil gets hurt badly, all bets are off. andrew carries him bridal style and takes care of him to help him forget the pain.

[cumaeansibyl]

I had a little down time on Saturday and spent it in an armchair in a warm coffee shop with rain outside, which is of course an amazing way to spend a day, drinking the strongest chai latte I've ever had and reading James Baldwin's Notes of a Native Son.

By God.

Did you ever want to put a book down and go kick something because you just read a sentence that was so good it made you angry? I was so cozy in my armchair and yet I kept wanting to get up and start a fight about Baldwin's prose, good Lord. All written in his twenties.

It began to seem that one would have to hold in the mind forever two ideas which seemed to be in opposition. The first idea was acceptance, the acceptance, totally without rancor, of life as it is, and men as they are: in the light of this idea, it goes without saying that injustice is a commonplace. But this did not mean that one could be complacent, for the second idea was of equal power: that one must never, in one's own life, accept these injustices as commonplace but must fight them with all one's strength. This fight begins, however, in the heart and it now had been laid to my charge to keep my own heart free of hatred and despair. This intimation made my heart heavy and, now that my father was irrecoverable, I wished that he had been beside me so that I could have searched his face for the answers which only the future would give me now.

[hvlthgxth]

If you search your heart, you would find that the only reason for a man to be over 6 ft is to be better at folding sheets.

[anouri]

Fernando Pessoa from The Book of Disquiet (1982)

[finexbright]

@ people going to the signings begging you not to trauma dump or tell him your least favourite song to look cool or whatever. give him flowers and cookies, make him smile. your only aim should be to do funny shit with him to make him bring out the crinkly eyed smile, okie?

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

new concept that’s making me go feral: My Goodbye from Epic the musical but it’s the Ava and Player at the graveyard

[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Non-binary! Reader Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Non-binary! Reader Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Eventual! Father Figure! Jake Lockley x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Book 1:

Follows the Events of Season One

Prologue: On the Precipice

Chapter One: In the Alps

Chapter Two: In the Flat

Chapter Three: To the Neighborhood

Chapter Four: In the Discussion

Chapter Five: Against the Jackal

Chapter Six: Across Cairo

Chapter Seven: Inside the Pyramid

Chapter Eight: To Mogart

Chapter Nine: In the Skies

Chapter Ten: Into the Tunnels

Chapter Eleven: At the Sarcophagus

Chapter Twelve: During the Ritual

Chapter Thirteen: Against Harrow and Ammit

Chapter Fourteen: After the Battle

Chapter Fifteen: In a New Chapter

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

@wra-1-th

@noodleryworld

[kktwluver]

There is something so incredibly precious about KK holding a baby... | #BurdenOfTruth | #JoannaChang | #KristinKreuk

[spicyicymeloncat]

Nightcord Kaito is actually my favourite virtual singer from project sekai. He’s so angry I love him. (I changed his hair to kinda resemble the character from the original Samsa mv)