#but i feel like the odds of us actually sharing all/most of the same values are low so I'm just torturing myself by dwelling on it probably | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violetasteracademic · 12 days

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I saw a reddit post a while back talking about how “obvious” gwynriel is, with hundreds of upvotes and everyone agreeing, saying that it’s exactly how SJM sets up her love interests, and it makes me feel like a crazy person.

I agree that SJM is obvious with her couples, but for me the only logical obvious answer is elriel. The entire time I was reading the series it couldn’t have been more obvious, and all my irl friends feel the same. We didn’t even know gwynriel was a thing. They barely interact in the books, and even then it’s only vaguely friendly and mostly one-sided. Then I get online and see all of these people who genuinely believe it’s gwynriel that’ll be endgame and I can’t understand how we’ve read the same books.

This is the only reason I question elriel at all; am I somehow missing something? What the hell are these people seeing that overshadows elriel’s foreshadowing? I just can’t see it from their point of view, no matter how many theories or analyzing I read from them. I almost wished I could so that this ship war wouldn’t be so frustrating, but I just can’t.

Sorry to throw this rant at you, your posts and explanations are just very comforting and you explain things so well. I read them whenever I’m worried to assure myself I’m not crazy :,)

Hi sweet anon!

I certainly don't think you are crazy or missing anything, and I'm glad to know that some of my posts have brought you comfort. That is my one and only goal.

I've been getting more and more messages like this in my inbox, and I've been struggling with how to answer them because I've learned that a lot of my thoughts don't really fit in with the fandom at large. I don't mind that other ships exist. I have real life G/wynriel and E/lucien friends that are very chill and wonderful and not knee deep in the online fandom and don't think horrific misogynistic things. I stay out of spaces where I'm bound to see something hurtful, and I scroll so fuckin fast when I see the Elriel community screenshotting and reblogging bad takes cause I *don't wanna see it.*

I'm just a girl, and while I'm honored that this little weirdo's opinion has become of some value in this little comfy cafe corner I'm trying to build here, I don't want to say the wrong thing and make people feel discredited and invalidated. I've learned that people really like being in the drama and venting and focusing on how badly the other side is behaving, which I don't really like, and it often leaves me at odds with my own "side" of the war. But since you are here in my asks, I'll share my thoughts. Please know I am saying this with all the tender love and care in my heart, but I say:

Just let them exist. You don't need to understand. You also don't need to let it worry you. None of us are in control of the ships that are sailing in this war. So for whatever it is worth, I want to encourage you to try to stay away from the spaces that make you feel upset, confused, hurt, or angry.

We are all honestly similar in ways that might be hard to admit. If we are here, deep into this fandom, we are probably connected in a number of ways. Maybe we're a little bit lonely (me), a little bit mentally ill (me), a little bit hyper-fixated (me). Maybe we are easily consumed and obsessed, and don't have anywhere for that energy to go in our real lives and so we live on in a chronic state of escape and disassociation (yep, me).

We are also an exceptionally small percentage of SJM's readership, and we take things as far as a fan could possibly take them. This is not how most readers are interacting with her work. So to see hundreds of upvotes on something, even thousands, yes- it seems like a lot. But it's not actually that much in terms of SJM's actual numbers. Anyone on reddit, tumblr, tiktok, ect, is looking for community and people who share their thoughts and likes and dislikes. I think this is often why a lot of non canon ships actually grow more popular than canon ships, because people are here looking for a road the written story will not take them down.

I don't think it's strange or offensive or unhinged that ships other than Azriel or Elain exist and are popular. I *do* think its a little odd that this fandom has taken the stance of proving non-canon things as canon instead of just enjoying crackships, but I can't honestly sit here and say my posts proving "canon" to try to comfort people who want the same fictional couple as me is not the exact same behavior. I think I'm right. They think they are right. There will come a day when Sarah lets us know what she has decided, and it's out of our hands. But the ships will live on.

I love so many non canon ships, and I engage with them here every day. This is what fandom is for. I think this fandom in particular would be a lot less toxic if we would just live and let live and leave each other be. I am gonna keep making theory posts and writing fanfic. They are gonna keep making theory posts and writing fanfic.

Take care of yourself. Rock the block button. Strangers on the internet do not get unfettered access to me or you or anyone else just because we are online. Set some boundaries for yourself. Lurk where you feel good.

I hope my page continues to be one of those places where you can lurk to feel better. And if that ever changes, block me. I encourage it deeply. I actually feel relieved when I can see that someone has blocked me, because I know they are taking care of themselves and also saved me the time and energy of trying to diffuse an argument.

I hear your frustrations. I know it sucks to want to go on reddit if that has been a fun and comforting space for you, and now it feels overrun and not safe and not fun. Grieve that. We obviously all care very deeply, and that's okay. It's nothing at all to be ashamed of.

But at some point, we are all gonna have to learn to live with each other, because no matter what happens in canon, the ships are not going anywhere.

Take care of yourself, anon. And I hope you continue to find comforting spaces to rest.

#elriel #pro elriel #az and elain #my take on the ship wars #for what it's worth

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indignantlemur · 3 months

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hello, I have a bit of an odd question. For each species culture in Star Trek do you think would fit in Star wars? I think the andorians and Klingons fit with the mandalorians. What do you think?

Have a nice day.

Hello! This is a fun question!

I'm gonna narrow the scope a little, because if I did every Star Trek species we'd be here forever, but I'll try to hit all the main ones.

Andorians: I could see Andorians fitting neatly into the realm of Pantoran or Chiss characters pretty easily, and what little we know about the Chiss feels a lot like it could parallel Andorians in their earlier, more isolationist histories. I particularly feel like the rigid social structures of the Chiss and their military philosophies would fit quite nicely with Andorian values. Likewise, Pantorans share some similarities with Andorians, like exceptional hearing and coloration. Additionally, the tradition of garnering tattoos to indicate family and allegiance amongst Pantorans does feel similar to Andorian chitin patterns.

Humans: Humans across all universes are pretty much the same, let's be honest. If you take an average Star Trek Human civilian and plonk them down on an average Core World in the 'Wars universe, they'll do just fine.

Vulcans: Of all the species, I feel like Vulcans prove to be excellent candidates for Jedi recruitment, but that's not actually a species, so: Kel Dor. Hear me out: they have sages, they're largely mysterious, they are on the whole very force sensitive (psychically powerful) and they keep much of their culture and traditions to themselves. It's a stretch, admittedly, but I think it kind of works.

Trill: Phydolons feel like a good match. They're a symbiotic species which form a kind of gestalt consciousness between a mammalian host and a fungal symbiote, who value wisdom and spirituality.

Klingons: The Noghri might not feel like the most immediate option to come to mind, but bear with me. Noghri are skilled warriors who utilise technology and an array of natural weapons and defenses, place high value on honour, and function societies built upon familial clans. It's not as much of a stretch as you might think, looking at that. Just as the Klingons are honed for war, the Noghri are uniquely suited for combat - though the Noghri are most well known for being assassins, rather than front-line warriors.

Orions: The Falleen, hands down. Green skin, dark hair, known to use powerful pheromones to influence others, regularly associated with major crime syndicates... it's hard not to see the parallels. It's tempting to say Twi'leks here, but honestly I feel the Falleen are a much better match.

Ferengi: Muun in general, and the Banking Clan in particular. Muun are extremely intelligent and naturally gifted at mathematics, and while the Banking Clan gives them something of a negative reputation, most Muun are pretty decent folks. Sounds familiar? Wildly different physiologies aside, I think the Ferengi and the Muun have a surprising amount in common.

Tellarites: It would be incredibly lazy to say Gamorreans here, so I won't. Truthfully, with the minimal lore on Tellarites that we have to work with, finding an equivalent for them in the Star Wars universe is a bit tricky. I'd be inclined to say the Gran, perhaps, for their colonial tendencies and agricultural leanings, but even that feels very weak to me.

Mandalorians: Mandalorians are not a species but diverse individuals who follow a shared creed, and therefore I don't feel it sensible to include it with any of the above options which are based on species. Additionally, there are at least four kinds of Mandalorians, which further complicates the issue: Death Watch, the Children of the Watch, the True Mandalorians, and the New Mandalorians. Your choices narrow down to child-abducting-hyper-militant-terrorist group, weirdly-genetically-homogenous/militant-pacifist group, militant-but-mostly-reasonable-and-kinda-culty group, and a virtually non-existent faction of militant golden-age-Mandos-cut-down-before-their-time. With all of these, your mileage may vary wildly. I could see Vulcans being attracted to the New Mandalorian philosophies, I suppose, and Andorians would probably be all over the True Mandalorian option, but it's hard to say more beyond that outside of individual circumstance.

Thanks for the ask!

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avesomnia-inhoramortis · 27 days

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[ooc]

NSFT Headcanons

This will cover both Miquella and Trina.

Look at me. Look into my eyes. If you do not like the combination of immortal youths and smut, this is your warning to turn back now.

While I will not be writing lemons here it's still interesting to think about for characterization. Fair warning: given their powers, there will be mentions of dubious or entirely lacking consent.

Cool? Cool. Let's do a readmore.

Miquella, as someone cursed to eternal prepubescence, never actually got a proper sex talk. I'm pretty sure Radagon thought about it, but by his reign all things Crucible had been mostly expunged, and in his enlightened era people were having tree babies. So Miquella probably got an education on tree babies, and then absolutely eavesdropped on the barracks and pieced together some things from crude comments.

There's a peculiar connection between the concept of adulthood and "losing virginity". The most godly thing to do, according to the monks and finger maidens and finger readers and everyone else, is to simply have no sex at all. It's needless and a base, primal vestige of an uncivilized age. The most normal thing to do, apparently, is to get frisky with the squires and servants.

Miquella is somewhat obsessed with the concept of becoming an adult. (Breaking his curse probably isn't that easy... but what if it is?) Also, he's definitely been propositioned by someone who didn't have the sense to fear losing their tongue for the insolence.

Also it's kind of obvious despite the propaganda that Marika had a LOT of sex once upon a time, so that refutes the whole virgin divinity thing. If anything, perhaps a god is supposed to sleep around.

I think he's definitely experimented and then came to some sort of neutral conclusion. It feels nice, it serves a purpose, he's got more important things to do with his time but he wouldn't mind fulfilling his duty as a god like that. More importantly: everyone in the country can be led around by the dick, and that's useful information.

Trina had even less education on the topic.

It never really crossed Miquella's mind to tell her about sex? She came from him, she probably knew what he knew and had the same feelings.

As a matter of fact she did not have his memories on the topic because she never went looking for them, so her first introduction to sex was wandering into someone's wet dream, which is a vastly more sensory experience than eavesdropping in the barracks or quizzing servants.

With no idea what the hell that was, she kept tripping into wet dreams and figuring things out by ear. The content varied to alarming extremes, but the through line of pleasure stayed the same. Mostly. There were also nightmares, and dreams that blurred the line.

Miquella's the scholar between the two of them, so she probably did ask him about it at some point. And I think he went through the five stages of grief in five seconds flat. Trina didn't exactly have the words to describe what she was watching, so he probably dismissed her initial questions as odd nightmares. Whoops.

Newly informed on reproduction and pleasure, though, Trina has an advantage that Miquella doesn't: she's been watching people's most private desires. Miquella has never CONSIDERED choking someone during sex, or tying them down, or the fact that simple compliments in the right context could cause sexual satisfaction. He'd be very interested if he knew, but he decided long ago that he's too busy for pleasure.

Trina's business is pleasure. She thinks about it.

Since she functions mostly as a bodiless spirit (Miquella is too busy to share the body), Trina's very much a stranger to physical pleasure. Never cracked her back, never eaten food, never had her hair washed and combed. As such, she doesn't have the first clue about physical desire. Her desires are emotional: she wants to be close to people, she wants attention, she wants affection, she wants to be wanted and valued. She wants to give and receive comfort, particularly in whatever form the other person likes best.

She has other desires, too. The desires of a virus, or a plant, or water. An elemental thing, a god. Her relationship with that is complicated, and she spends a lot of time trying to be a person rather than an entity. When she isn't just comatose. Trina is frequently busy trying to forget that she exists at all, which conflicts with the fact that she's a hedonist given the opportunity.

Calm, collected, controlled? Service dom is the simplest answer I think. Actually feeling and losing herself in it? Primal. More focused on kink than sex itself. She's not limited to a body and she has options.

She can acquire bodies through various means, though. A flower, a silver tear, possession (though she really only possesses animals). Wildly unused to flesh, she is completely unprepared for what physical pleasure feels like and she just sort of collapses in a whimpering needy puddle.

A demanding needy puddle. She'll hesitate because she's polite, but if everyone's on the same page she will give orders. The benefit of being impulsive, having little shame, and being ravenously greedy.

Trina has tried absolutely everything to get Miquella to rest, and that includes seducing him. It's even sort-of worked once or twice.

She spends more time thinking about other people than herself, but she definitely has her own kinks and is also very certain they will never be relevant to anyone else. Who'd ask? Nobody. She was made to take care of people, case closed. Most of the stuff she wants could be considered harmful, after all- growing a garden from someone's flesh, drinking someone else's blood in mimicry of how people drink hers.

And, as if it was ever in question, somnophilia. Giving and receiving.

...I have a feeling Miquella started researching sex a lot more closely once he started "courting" Mohg, because omens absolutely do have sex.

Neither of them have ever gotten the Safe, Sane, Consensual talk. Both of them just want other people to be happy, and they behave accordingly with respect to their individual relationships with their powers. Trina watches a lot of wet dreams and sometimes participates, and while Miquella generally doesn't have time for such things he does flirt around and tease in the name of getting what he wants on occasion.

.....Radahn thought this consort thing was going to be a business arrangement, and the status was decent motivation. Unfortunately for everyone, Miquella knows how flirting and dirty talk work and can keep him dangling on the thread of imagine what could happen when I finally become a god.

Miquella perhaps enjoys having power over people quite a lot. But it's fine as long as it serves his goals. He's only ever tried to help.

Just to cap the whole ramble off: Trina's demisexual, Miquella has zero clue how his own sexuality works, if at all, and they both play fast and loose with the concept of genitalia. Miquella doesn't pay much attention to what he's equipped with, and Trina's dream form has some kind of floral setup with an ovipositor that looks like a flower bud. You're welcome.

#[ooc]#headcanons #i'm not character tagging this #dead dove do not eat #nsft

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menacing-anon · 1 year

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The corridor scene is very possibly my favorite in season 1. I’ll get a bit of analysis out of the way, then lose my whole s*** for a sec about how evocative and satisfying it is 😭

The conversation returns to this idea that Charlie is complicating Nick’s life by leading to him ending his barely-worthy-of-the-word excuses for friendships and fighting Harry. But it’s like… Charlie’s impact was to help Nick realize that he’s at odds with his social circle and behave more in line with his own values, not to put them at odds; though even that might’ve been worth it, just as any actual downsides were a price worth paying for Nick’s positive development. He stopped being friends with those people and got into that fight because he became less willing to tolerate bullying, and that’s for the best!

But also, Charlie frames Nick ending his friendships as something he does for Charlie (“I don’t expect you to dump your friends for me”), and Nick does the same (“getting into fights or pissing off my mates or anything like that. It’s all worth it to be with you”); this is also not really true. Even if Nick and Charlie weren’t seeing each other, Nick has already changed — he wouldn’t go along with bullying because it’s not the right thing to do, and he wouldn’t be friends with the rugby lads because he doesn’t want to, all independently of Charlie. Charlie helped Nick to grow in that direction, but Nick isn’t choosing Charlie’s well-being or their relationship over anything else. He’s choosing himself, one could say 😌

Anyway, fun stuff now! I often think of this scene in pair with the one in Charlie’s room early in 1x04, which I can also easily name as a favorite — more on it in this post. They’re similar to me in the characters’ uncommon and relatable care and its expression, and how the dialogues sort of mirror each other. The first starts out with Charlie criticizing himself and his perceived wrongdoings towards Nick, as Nick repeatedly addresses him by name to disagree with him. In the second, Nick compliments Charlie and his tremendous positive presence in Nick’s life, with Charlie calling out to Nick because, thankfully, he’s convinced 🥺 It’s almost the same conversation with opposite roles.

In one of my uni acting courses, we learned about something called a driving line: a statement of the character’s objective in the whole scene, starting with “I.” When directing, our instructor sometimes had us start by saying a driving line and repeat it after every line of our text. I immediately thought of driving lines with Nick’s “I need you to believe me.”

I KNOW!!! I keep saying “I do, apparently!” at the same time 😅

Even the very fact that Charlie thinks Nick is saying this because he feels obligated to— 🙁 One day (today) I'll write something about how "you don't have to" is nearly Charlie's catchphrase.

AAAAAAAAH 😭😭😭

It’s sooo relatable of Nick to want Charlie to understand that he really cares about him, to the point of, like, despair, and to cherish Charlie and their relationship instead of taking what they share for granted! I, too, would be upset if one of the most important people in my life undervalued themself, would have a wave of affection pour out of me and wouldn’t calm down until I got through to them 🥺

#heartstopper #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper tv #heartstopper season 1 #heartstopper 1x08 #my post #heartstopper 1x04 #para||els #tw bullying mention

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away-ward · 1 year

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Ok, since many nightfall readers freakin hate the train scene so much, do you guys have any ideas of how it could've been done better? Because tbh i had this question since the beginning of me hating that scene, but for some reason, i could not for the life of me imagine the train scene to be something else. Because i just knew that PD had to do something very very very weird and ugly, and over the top to amp up the "craziness" of the last book for this series. I just knew since the moment alex appeared, she would cause unnecessary drama for emmy and will, so a very very very ugly and big closure would have to happen and like i said, i cant think of anything else. I know the train scene was absurd AF, but i dont know a better scene to fix that part of nightfall.

I think pd already ruined the whole book since the moment they dropped aydin and alex in that book. And the moment alex came in, it's like watching a car crash, it got worse and worse and worse, so the ending should be for emmy, will, alex and aydin to confront their deeply ugly feelings of jealousy, envy, anger etc. etc. in a ridiculously "devils night" way. Yeah, do you get what i'm saying? If any other anons can give some other possible headcanons of what could've happened to solve emmy and alex's + will and aydin's stupid rivalry in the last moments before they ran away from BC + in the train, please do share. Readers kept on being angry at that scene (me too) but i never saw anyone actually suggesting a scene that can wrap up the whole ridiculousness of this weird emmywillalexaydin foursome problem better than what was in canon. And i hated that i couldnt give a better suggestion because those scenes were shit as hell!

I agree with the anon that said about PD's writing shit ass development writing. I feel like a lot of things pd wrote in this series, were really just for shock values that they couldnt integrate and blend well in a more coherent plotting or characterisation. Idk, it does take me out of the story because what the hell was that for? This was the same reaction i had for all the threesomes and orgies in the past 3.5 books too.

That’s a good question, and honestly, I don’t have much of an answer. As it’s been discussed, PD particular brand of sharing doesn’t hit right with a lot of readers, so I’m not sure there is anything that could be done to change this.

However, I think if one were to attempt to write an AU for this scene, it would be important to look not at what happened, but the characters at play.

I used to think that the train scene was supposed to parallel the gym scene with Damon and Will, and for the most part I still do. In the train scene, Will becomes Emory, having to watch the person he cares about most being intimate with someone else. However, Emory doesn’t become Will, she becomes Damon. Which is an odd choice. I think it was supposed to back-up the idea that Emory is finally going after what she wants and desires; giving into her impulses without giving it a second thought or overthinking like she had before.

It’s just her desire for Alex comes out of nowhere. There really is no build-up to their friendship that would lead to this. On top of that, it’s paralleling Damon and Will’s friendship, which is supposed to be so deep that it has no comparisons in the series.

Because of these reasons, it aligns more with the Rika/Banks scene in Hideaway. Emory effectively says “All of you have had Alex, so why shouldn’t I? That would even the playing field.”

But I didn't understand why that solved the problem Banks and with Rika, and it's the same here. The Alex/Emory scene doesn’t work for so many because it doesn’t seem to offer a good reason for why their problems with each other are resolved.

If PD wanted to put Will in Emory’s place so he could experience what Em’s had to go through with him “playing the field”, Emory needed to be the one accepting pleasure, not giving. Not having it forced on her.

Wanting and accepting and inviting. From someone not Will.

Instead, PD put Emory in Will’s place, with her pursuing pleasure thoughtlessly.

But didn’t we just learn that that type of behavior got Will nowhere? So, why put Emory in that place?

And this is why I say I think the scene was supposed to parallel other scenes but I can’t say for sure, because after a while it gets confusing and tangled. I can’t wrap my head around what this scene was supposed to accomplish narratively other than being spicy.

Maybe like you said, it’s supposed to resolve the issues between Alex and Emory over Will and Aydin. But I don’t see how this puts everyone on even ground.

Narratively, I didn’t mind the shower scene (on a personal level, it's ew). I think it accomplished a lot in bringing the issue to a head. The issue mainly being that Will and Alex are too close and found too much comfort in each other. As much as the plot irritates me, Aydin proving that Alex still thinks of Will as hers, and her attachment to him wasn’t going to just disappear was a point they needed to understand.

But it goes nowhere. Instead, it’s framed as if Emmy doesn’t want it to go away, but wants to be apart of it.

So, in short, I don’t know how to fix the scene within the series as it is. I don't know who to bring in, who to move where, who should do what.

Ultimately, in all of my fix-it ideas, moving NF to the third book is still my go-to. If that were the case, we could bring Damon while he was still at his worst in to play, which might change the dynamics some. Either way, what I think should have happened was a clear shifting in who Will goes to for affection and intimacy. Not Damon, not Alex, but Emory.

Moving NF to the third book also means we don’t have to deal with Alex and Aydin’s relationship right away, which gives Willemmy some room to breathe because the series doesn’t have to resolve everything within the last 100 pages.

I also don’t think MichaelRika and Kaibanks needed to be there. That was weird and kind of useless.

(P.S. I haven’t said this before because it’s not that big a deal, but I kinda hate that Micah’s name is Micah because it means I can’t shorten MichaelRika’s ship name to MiKa. Their ship name is a mouthful as it is.)

Same same.

do you guys have any ideas of how it could've been done better?

If any other anons can give some other possible headcanons of what could've happened to solve emmy and alex's + will and aydin's stupid rivalry in the last moments before they ran away from BC + in the train, please do share.

Well, that's the call, guys. Does anyone have any ideas?

Sorry I could be of more help.

-KO

#asked and answered 144 #asked and answered #devil's night series #willemmy #alexaydin #train scene #series discussion #character discussion

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recklesswriter · 2 years

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The Uchiha brother's MBTI?

okay okay, thank you for asking this because I'm like obsessed with personality typology. it's one of my adhd hyperfixations 😁 Now, I did have to do some research for this to refresh my memory, because I'm more familiar with the Enneagram than with Myers-Briggs. I've totally figured out Itachi and Sasuke's MBTI before, but it was a while ago and I didn't remember as much about that as I did about their enneagram types (Itachi a 1w9 and Sasuke a 3w4, in case you were curious)

So, MBTI types. In my opinion, Itachi is a INFJ ("The Advocate") and Sasuke is an INTJ ("The Architect"). Here's a bit on why.

Itachi - INFJ:

INFJs are idealistic and principled, caring deeply about integrity and doing what they believe to be right - but their own personal beliefs, according to THEM, not according to society or other people. (Itachi definitely fits this - following his own beliefs on what is "right," truly believing he's doing good despite other people having different perspectives he needs to consider. This is all done in a genuine desire to help and improve things, but he doesn't consider the possibility that his worldview might not be entirely correct)

INFJs, because of their deep inner lives, often feel at odds with the rest of the world and feel like they're different from others. They are troubled by injustice and feel compelled to find solutions to cure the world of its unfairness (i.e. Itachi's desire to find a way to put an end to wars and have peace).

INFJs can be extremely sensitive when their personal beliefs/principles are called into question, becoming defensive or dismissive of other opposing viewpoints. They're perfectionistic, and their reluctance to be emotionally vulnerable and ask for help leads them to create distance in their close personal relationships. They also often have very grand, but imprecise goals that they struggle to turn into reality (Itachi wants peace in the village and the world, but his ideas on how to reach this goal are very opaque and imprecise. He struggles to break this large, idealistic goal into steps that actually make it achievable)

Onto Sasuke now - INTJ:

I think, when typing Sasuke's personality, it's important to remember that for the majority of the series, he's suffering from very clear trauma and ptsd, so this affects how his personality presents itself. Sasuke is an INTJ, but he's one that can be very unhealthy - displaying the INTJ's negative traits more prominently than the positive ones.

INTJs are extremely capable, ambitious, and independent. They question everything, preferring to find their own way of doing things rather than going along with everyone else. They are single-minded and driven in their goals, and won't abide by people who attempt to slow them down by enforcing seemingly pointless rules or offering poor criticism. They often prefer to act alone, without asking for others input.

INTJs believe they can accomplish anything they set their minds to, their strong self-confidence often attracting others to their sides and causing them to be admired. But they also may be more cynical about people in general, believing most of the people around them to be mediocre and unmotivated. (i.e. Sasuke's feelings toward Naruto, Sakura, and the rest of his classmates)

INTJs are single-minded. Little patience for things they deem unimportant, and prioritize rationality and success over being pleasant and polite. They value truth and depth, and may come across as rude or offensive when they're only trying to be straightforward and honest. They prefer to surround themselves with people who share their priorities and ideals, as social relationships with people not on their same wavelength can seem pointless to them

They can be arrogant, unwilling to accept useful input from people they believe to be intellectually inferior. Dismissive of emotions, overly-critical, combative against regulations and authority.

Their relentless need to prioritize rationality over emotion can lead to feelings of isolation and disconnection from others, to the point where they might discard their personal relationships altogether, dismissing the value of them. (i.e. Sasuke with Team 7 when he abandoned Konoha, and later on with Team Taka as well).

#my asks #naruto #sasuke uchiha #itachi uchiha #mbti

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badheart · 2 years

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“she…can be a little loud.” rei began by explaining, as if that hadn’t been obvious already. her expression contorted into one of a smile & furrowed brows ; somewhat strained, but not any less sincere. if anything, it reflected her endearment. “—but once you get used to it, you can value what good of a friend she is.” despite the constant teasing, or the ( unknowingly ) push of boundaries ; meeting futaba was something she was grateful of. her life, becoming just a little less lonely. they were an odd pair—visually & personality-wise, but that same loneliness had pushed them together, finding solace in each other’s company. her expression eased at the thought of the progress they had made, ever since they met each other, & couldn’t be happier over the prospect of sharing it with someone that she was beginning to consider her friend, as well. a chuckle was exuded.

“i hope she finds a man that recognises that in her.” seeing how desperate she was to have that in her life—a relationship, someone to begin a family with. even if their views didn’t align with one another, it didn’t mean that rei couldn’t wish that for her friend ; to truly feel loved & live that romance that got her sighing, whenever they watched a drama together. anything that made her happy. both of her legs are brought up on the couch, with her fingers wrapping around the underneath side of feet, holding onto them as she leaned forward & then back, stretching a bit. “she might be older, but sometimes, i feel i’m the one looking out for her.” although, that could very well be, due to how secretive she was, in order to avoid just that. she didn’t want to be babied, or be deemed as incapable, due to her life experience. even if a little naïve. a long sigh was released, before her head turned towards where fang was, smiling gently at the sight of taro allowing himself to be pet. seemed like even he, was starting to get used to the company, just like herself. “i guess i should trust her a bit more, if i want her to do the same with me. i just don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Hmh.” Nodding, trying her best not to come off as rude, but Futaba sure had been quite a surprise, considering it was Rei who was befriended with her, and while she sure was cool, it still needed some time to get used to her and her manners, but she kind of liked it. It was just really surprising that she was a police woman, but then again... that body sure checks out. She was almost a little bit envious. With the power she holds, she could crush so many men, if she wanted and yet she saw more the opposite. “It’s close to a miracle that you two are a thing,” Fang teased. “I mean friends.” And grinned for a second; though their history was a little bit special too. If it was fate, or some forced relationship that could not be avoided, but she had quite enjoyed her time with Rei, better with her than her stepdad and his friend. It was nice that they found back to each other, so many things to share.

“Maybe then she is quieter,” she replied rather amused; but look who is talking, she had been rather loud in the past too, but there she could still assert herself better and actually offer a good fight, if someone dared to be cheeky towards her. From her side, she could not understand Futaba’s desire at all. Actually, she had thought that she was more of the independent woman type but she turned out to be total opposite, or at least being some middle thing, as she clearly enjoyed her job. “Or she realizes finally, there is no need for men!” she suddenly brought up, finally meeting Rei’s gaze but only for a short moment, Taro got most of her attention now, laying comfortably in her lap while she kept stroking him. How much she would love a pet as well but her apartment was way too small for that, and she never had one before either, so lacking some confidence as well with the lack of experience. “Even if they can be hot,” she grumbled and booped Taro’s nose. “The most handsome of all, of course,” she swooned and could only smile when he looked at her with his big eyes, framed by the roundest face, she had ever seen by a cat. “Did something happen?” Looking up again as she wondered about Rei’s wording. Considering Futaba’s position, it should be the other way around.

Fang smiled after Rei continued. “She is right, you can be cute.” Rei’s caring side was one of her best traits, even if it might be a bit too much at times, especially for Fang, who tried her best to do most things alone. “I’m sure she will manage, I mean how bad can it possibly be?” She let out a snort. If she finds someone, then it surely must be someone that cared about her, because not many men were willing to love such caliber of a woman.

#╳ ——「 query.」#mugunghwc #mild foreshadowing again? asdfgh

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anarchoherbalism · 2 years

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Mental health is a lawn; Desire is a prairie

Introduction

A little over a month ago, I began posting about upcoming changes in my practice, which I’ve been working on since. As I said in an instagram story, I realized that I’ve been pretty bad about replacing surface-level words instead of actually challenging underlying concepts; so, I’ve been taking some time to work on learning to better articulate my philosophy.

In the following essay I am going to try to explain my critique of psychiatry and offer a framework to replace it. You don’t have to agree with anything I say to receive herbs, advice or education from me. If I only wanted to work with people that believe the same things as me, I would stick to caring for my network of friends and accomplices. I have a public-facing practice to offer something immediately and materially useful to (broadly speaking) anyone that asks for it. I’m writing this because—while we may or may not be/become friends—my services are a personal gift, and I do not want them to be received as a function of psychiatry.

Most of all, I believe that everyone has an idea about what the future will hold, and everyone is trying to bring that idea to fruition. Ultimately there is nothing in my lifetime that will result in everyone being on the same page about what we all “should” be doing; and we are all relatively powerless on a global scale. What I can do is help the people I can touch, and walk away from those that want to force me to believe things I don’t want to believe in. I can’t make universal healthcare happen, right now or decades in the future; but I can fight tooth and nail to help heal the people around me for free, and I can share, liberate and generate knowledge to help others do the same.

I’m writing with a very limited scope here—if I was having an easier time writing this it would very quickly become an entire book, not a 3,700-some-odd word essay. I’m asking to you believe at face value that this is what I consider to be true; unfortunately I don’t have the capacity to write out an argument containing all the applicable historical evidence and referential sources right now. I hope at some point I do.

Part 1: Groundwork

Lobotomistic violence

I’m going to start by laying out a definition that I think is important to understanding where I’m coming from. I started using this term because I think it marks a useful distinction in how certain people are treated by psychiatry.

Lobotomistic violence is the set of psychiatric “treatments” that intend to make someone “normal” by reducing/inhibiting function in certain parts of their brain. While surgical lobotomies are generally considered outdated and barbaric in mental health culture, the root concept is still very much alive and well. Several antipsychotic drugs have similar effects to surgical lobotomies, and many more otherwise limit brain function in other ways. These drugs can prevent the people they’re prescribed to from thinking abstractly or feeling deeply, and often cut them off from meaningful parts of themselves.

According to the psychiatric framework there are people who need support, understanding, and accommodation; and people who need their bodyminds* to be physically altered and parts of them literally removed/made nonfunctional. Lobotomistic violence is a “last ditch” effort, when less extreme forms of medication or therapy are considered “ineffective”. Sometimes this comes after a long process of trying different treatments—but a lot of people are subjected to lobotomistic violence because they occupy a social position that society sees as a lost cause from the start, like people kidnapped off the street by ambulances in the middle of a psychotic break, or kids in state custody.

*Bodymind is a popular term in mad liberation that refers to the mind and body as a cohesive whole–it invokes the idea that we do not just inhabit our bodies, we ARE our bodies.

Defining mental health

(In this section, I’m using a very charitable interpretation of psychiatry from a scientific standpoint. Even the most advanced neuroscience cannot reliably identify specific mental disorders or their causes—but even if it could, it would still be fundamentally bad, and that’s the point I want to make.)

Civilization is an organism and an ecosystem in its own right, with structures to achieve equilibrium and to perpetuate itself. The choices that we make and options we see as available have been formed by thousands of years of accidents and choices that shape patterns of behavior and create social constructs. It is these structures I’m referring to when I talk about control.

In order for civilization to exist as it currently does, the people and things subjected to it must be easily understood, because things that are understood can be controlled. An example my friend used was a small, early agrarian state—a ruler wants to collect tax, with the goal of collecting as much as possible to enrich his position against neighboring states. He cannot collect too much tax, or else the population will either starve, or get angry and refuse to participate in the state; so to maximize what can be taken he has to know how much is produced, and in turn the farmers have to know how much they produce to know what they owe and what they need to meet immediate needs. Civilization needs to reduce complicated questions to knowable categories in order to respond in ways that benefit itself. This legibility occludes true understanding, pares down the messy, beautiful, difficult-to-communicate nature of life into one-dimensional criteria to be accounted for and processed. To see how these criteria are constructed, let’s look at an oak tree.

The name “oak tree” refers to a thing that exists, pretty indisputably (at least until you get into existentialism but, uh, let’s not go there). However, the name “oak” is something people made up. There are many different perspectives one might understand an oak tree from. Whatever lens you want to use impacts what characteristics you focus on and how you understand them in relation to the whole. You focus on certain attributes to create a story—if you’re using a scientific lens, you might look at DNA and draw connections to other DNA to tell a story about genetic history. Genetic history is also a human construct that only focuses on the pieces that are significant to the stories our culture wants to tell. These stories are what we use to build knowable categories; but a squirrel doesn’t give two nuts about the genetic history of an oak tree, and likely has its own stories that are entirely alien to us—because different attributes are significant to its life.

Mental disorders are real in the same way an oak tree is real—and fake in the same way an oak tree is fake.

The experiences that diagnostic labels describe are real, but the way disorders are defined is 100% a social construct that is entirely dependent on what is significant to our culture, scientifically backed or not.

“Health” is defined as bodymind states that are convenient for cultural perpetuation; and illness is bodymind states that are not. What experiences and attributes are constructed as diagnostic categories is dependent on what is valued and relevant to the dominant culture—and more importantly, what is conducive to the reproduction of that culture.

In our modern society, people who do not fit squarely into the mold of a responsible, reproductive citizen are either validated or marginalized. These are both methods of control, pushing people into legible categories to make them more easily understood and influenced by society. Validation might look like a kid who’s disruptive in class getting diagnosed with ADHD and working more closely with the school to receive accommodation, whereas marginalization might look like a disruptive kid getting diagnosed with ODD and being treated as if any resistance to an authority figure is a symptom of disease for the rest of their life.

In psychiatry, validation is “positivity”. This extends from clinical practice to what I’m going to call “mental health culture”, the expansion of psychiatry from a form of medicine to a fixture of culture. I’m going to talk about this more in a minute, but for now the point is: mental health does not identify a list of “problems” that exist in a vacuum. It constructs sicknesses in order to justify control. Which leads us to…

This wouldn’t work if we didn’t care about each other

Unfortunately, there’s no simple malice to blame here. A lot of the ways psychiatry hurts people are made possible by compassion. I try not to make generalizations about the human condition OR evolution-based arguments, but I do believe very deeply that humans are a fundamentally social species and that we are physically predisposed to caring about each other—evidenced in part by how much of the coerced labor necessary for society to function depends on making it hard to even SEE enslaved and low-class people, let alone extend solidarity and care to each other. The history of modern psychiatry (mostly over the past 200 years) and the birth of mental health is a chaotic mash of capitalistic profiteering, attempts to stifle liberatory movements, and individuals who are genuinely trying to take care of other people, all informed by the underlying assumptions about what “mental illness” is that I just described.

Brief digression: I’m always tempted to put “mental health” into quotes, but “mental health” implies a distinction between what I’m referring to and some other legitimate, non-fucked-up mental health that just doesn’t exist, so assume whenever I say mental health I’m using a slightly sarcastic tone.

Mental illnesses are, by and large, defined and diagnosed based on suffering, and the treatments, by and large, are designed to reduce suffering—or, the assumption that someone is suffering. How that suffering is measured and defined is still dependent on the basic assumption that correctly reproducing culture is good for you and not doing so is bad for you. For example, many diagnostic criteria measure one’s ability to work productively, and our society assumes wage labor is the norm for a healthy life. Sometimes, this is obfuscated by so many layers of reformed language and liberal feel-good-ism that many people who would disagree with that assumption when said so plainly (reproducing culture is good for you and not doing it is bad for you) are still deeply invested in mental health culture.

Diagnostic categories pick out certain experiences and characteristics to name as symptoms of a disease—but human brains are not very easy to put into boxes. Who is pathologized—labeled as diseased—is heavily dependent on their class status, and how well their behaviors contribute to the status quo. A lower-class non-Christian is more likely to be labeled as psychotic for describing their spiritual beliefs and experiences; whereas a richer person who talks about “being spoken to by the Holy Ghost” is simply a religious fanatic. We see consistently demographic-based diagnostic biases for disorders that are supposedly an issue with predetermined brain “hardwiring”, such as autism and ADHD being diagnosed more in white children, whereas Black children receive ODD diagnoses. By associating abnormality with suffering, and enforcing suffering for the abnormal, attempting to make people normal can represent reduction of suffering and a kindness. This dynamic is even more heavily enforced when people actively choose non-normative lifestyles: someone’s body state is not conducive to them living a “normal” life and they don’t even WANT to change, that means they are extra unhealthy. Under this logic, (attempting to/)forcing them to change is doing a good thing for them and thus the kindest course of action.

Everyone who advocates for broader mental health services is contributing to psychiatric and lobotomistic violence through kindness. There are plenty of people who think positively of their interactions with psychiatric institutions or mental health culture, AND there are ways to reduce harm when participating in mental health culture/be more honest about the risks involved; but encouraging people to participate in clinical settings is still encouraging people to put themselves in vulnerable, potentially dangerous positions.

Madness vs. pathology

Anyone can be crazy. I highly recommend trying it. Experiences are individually varied and highly personal—some people see and hear things other people don’t, some think in ways that are strange or confusing to others, and so on—but madness is simply refusal to conform to normative categories of mind-state and behavior. It is not bowing to social norms and the embrace of abnormal experiences that get in the way of a middle-class aspirations.

Pathologizing is the process by which madness is constructed as sickness. Pathology includes all the things that are “unapproved” about madness and it increasingly includes things that are only minorly inconvenient to our legibility and our participation. People re-contextualize experiences they never thought twice about as part of a disease, simply because they were given a label. “I never knew that was a BPD thing!”

Mental health culture encourages and facilitates this creep because even though its participants will often nominally criticizing practitioners who enact psychiatric violence, they continue to rely on the frameworks this violence is based on. Mainstream criticism of psych focuses on the idea that individual doctors (and/or institutions) apply psychiatry poorly, but it caries the implicit assumption that if it was only used correctly it would be a benefit. This can look like social/support groups of people identifying with a common or related diagnoses criticizing the way psychiatrists behave while encouraging people to self-diagnose, seek certain medication or therapy, or otherwise enforcing mainstream assumptions about the ontology of mental disorders.

Pathologizing talk surrounds us: “I think you might have ___”, “I’m like this because I have ___”, etc. It feels very similar to the ways in which certain queer spaces invent and push labels to describe every possible facet of gender or attraction, because well, it is. Both fixations gain traction because we are told that making ourselves legible to the outside world and making those around us legible in the same way will make us feel less lonely or invisible. Unfortunately, only letting people understand us in terms of our categories instead of on our own, unique terms continues to compound this loneliness. In an effort to make the system “work” we expand what experiences are known, create new labels and try to champion “inclusion”, instead of addressing the forces and dynamics surrounding the things that feel lonely, invisible, and difficult to communicate… A list of abbreviations doesn’t tell the world who you are, it tells the world how to react to you.

Many people who ascribe to psychiatric frameworks still live in ways that resist legibility. There are also plenty of people who are both mad and mentally ill, who use diagnostic labels but do not seek to conform to standards of “treatment”. There are also many people who use these labels to pressure conformity from themselves and those around them. It seems to me like the majority of people who, for example, encourage everyone around them to go to therapy, have never had a practitioner make good on the implicit threat of psychiatric violence.

The role of saneism

It would be incomplete for me to talk about the role of kindness without talking about the role of prejudice.

Saneism is a different form of bigotry than say, racism. It is not hatred of an “other” group that the “perpetrator” is not and never will be a part of. It’s more like fatphobia: hatred of a body state that every human being has the potential to experience. It is self-inflicted as much as it is wielded against the other.

Saneism is a tool to select who is and isn’t crazy. It should be clear at this point that there is no “sane” human being; sanity is only the ideal they beat you with. If you can emulate sanity well enough, driven by fear of internal and external hatred of madness, you are sane. If you can’t, you are insane, and either you can be mentally ill, assimilate to the categories and modes of behavior that are deemed acceptable for people like you; or, if you can’t do that, you’re crazy, and your options are either to submit to lobotomistic violence or to refuse to participate in psychiatry.

Part 2: Praxis

As I said at the beginning: The experiences that psychiatry addresses are real. Critique is all well and good in that it helps us name and understand the systems we live in, but it is only part of the process towards doing something better. Here is my attempt at building a model. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.

A lawn is an artificially maintained shape, but a prairie is created organically through small and large events, which lines up nicely with the idea that mental health, as a noun is a standard that must be maintained, but desire, as a verb is a process of seeking, experiencing and evaluating that builds and grows in symbiosis.

Mental Health is a Lawn

The process of maintaining mental health through the reduction of suffering is like the process of maintain a lawn. A lawn is a pre-defined shape created through the prescription of behaviors and chemicals (weeding/mowing; herbicides/pesticides); regulated to be non-challenging and “safe” (no spikey plants, bee or wasp nests, etc) in the name people’s comfort and at the cost of native species; and prioritizing a certain socially-imposed aesthetic at great cost to the environment. Lawns have to be nourished (fertilized and watered) to grow, but are not allowed to get taller or more robust than a set value so that they’re easy to trim regularly with minimal effort. Lawns are monocultures with shallow roots that do not stand up to environmental conditions like drought without intervention. Lawns are also a standard everyone knows–and holds each other to, judges each other based on.

Likewise, to maintain “mental health”, people are regulated to a predefined standard that prioritizes “normal” aesthetics and the “safety” and comfort of others through the prescription of chemicals and habits (medication and therapy). Everyone knows the rules enough to police themselves and each other. Peoples’ material and emotional needs are taken into consideration enough for them to survive (and not commit suicide), but no one is well-supported enough to not feel the pressure to work; and people do not have the freedom to self-regulate on their own so when crisis occurs, you either have to keep working or rely on psychiatric intervention such as hospitalization.

Desire is a Prairie

Seeking desire is like how a prairie or grassland maintains itself as an ecosystem. Many types of plants grow deep symbiotic root systems that create resiliency and allow the ecosystem to survive through many environmental changes. Critters and bugs may kill/destroy plants at times, but they also reuse and decompose detritus and allow the ecosystem to recycle material and stored energy, spread seeds, etc. A prairie is too tall to be mowed easily by a conventional lawn mower and must be poisoned or crushed via heavy machinery. It is a complicated, compelling and beautiful organism that takes years of interaction to understand.

Desire cultivates varied experiences that let us practice the flexibility to survive distress emotionally, and shapes our lifestyles to prioritize self-regulation. Pain, whether external, self inflicted, or both, is an inherent part of life; but pain can allow us to grieve, process and grow, to clarify our desires, and maintain our bodyminds. When we live by desire we become unwilling to bend to social rules that don’t suit us, become uncontrollably mad, and are accustomed to freedom such that we can only be recuperated through incarceration and lobotomistic violence.

A prairie takes a long time to grow, and is difficult to support in a society that demands lawns. Switching from a mental health model to a desire model isn’t a simple or quick thing. Most of us will resemble something more like an overgrown lot, which is just as valuable.

Part 3: What this means for me

It’s taken a long-ass time to be able to articulate these concepts, so it feels extremely good to have finally made the pieces click.

Ultimately, what I offer isn’t substantially changing—at least right now, though I do have a new offering I’ll be announcing in the near future that incorporates herbalism into pleasure-seeking activities. I’ll still be here for consultations, workshops, and informal support; but the foundations are different, and I will be more explicitly incorporating these ideas into how I teach and discuss concepts. You might notice that the pages on my website have been rewritten and restructured, hopefully in ways that represent these ideological changes.

Something that comes up fairly frequently in conversation with my friends and accomplices who do similar public-facing non-hierarchical healing work is how to respond when people come to us expecting more standard frameworks: When people talk to us expecting to be told things about their bodies, or for us to diagnose a sickness and tell them what to do about it. To me, figuring out how to deal with these interactions is a matter of building and improving social skills; figuring out what questions to ask to break the script. This is just as much practical as it is ideological: What I do is in no way compatible with Western Medicine or psychiatry—the tools I have work granularly, effecting a few parts of the body at a time in specific ways. I can help you sleep, eat, relax, play, reduce fear, increase focus, cope with grief, ground thoughts and emotions, feel pleasure… but I do not use diagnostic categories, I do not offer “antidepressants” or treat disease. Someone telling me they have PTSD gives me exactly 0 information about what they want me to be doing for them. In some ways what I think what I already do in these interactions does more to ground my practice outside of psychiatry than any long-ass manifesto or theoretical explanation; but if you want to know why I do what I do, well, there you have it I guess.

#theory #manifesto #anti civ #anti psych #survivingpsych #mad liberation #anticiv theory #anarchoherbalism

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elriell · 4 years

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Some jumbled up thoughts about Elain, Lucien and Azriel + Mating Bonds

There have been a lot of conversations regarding this topic and I thought I’d flesh it out a bit myself, but these are facts/observations that as a fandom many have noticed, discussed, analysed. I just wanted to dive in myself fully.

I want to talk about each of them individually as well as, as a whole. Their emotions and mindsets, as someone who loves all three characters and wishes for all of them to get a happy ending. I will preface this with saying I will be discussing why it is very likely Elain will reject the bond and such things, so along the lines of Anti-Elucien. If you are a fan of them, thats cool, just skip this one if you happen upon it.

We are going to dive in to the following;

Lucien & Elain (their choices)

Lucien & Azriel (contrast)

Rejecting the Bond

New Bonds

Fate & THE POV

and why the writing is basically telling us everything we need to know...

Lucien

Lucien is noble male, he has a good heart and has suffered his plenty, and this is why people want what is best for him, to be the happiest he can... Unfortunately I think that in this case Elain is not it.

He is right to feel that way, just as Elain has a right to feel as she does. I think it is incredibly interesting that when we finally see from his POV we see that in a way he feels as though this has been thrust on them.

That with his last love he had a choice and so did she.

It reminds me very much of this line about Rhysand’s parents, who were an example of an unhappy mating bond.

We will deep dive in to wrong matches further down, but the fact is that mated couples are not always indicators of true paired souls, that they very well could be the couple that do not end up happy together.

I speak on Elain and her agency a lot because I feel like a large portion of the fandom like to discard it as if it means nothing, and even judge her for it but if we actually take a look at Lucien’s behaviour he is not all that more happy.

There are some key differences between them though, Lucien as a male feels their bond to a different degree than she does, and he also has been raised to believe and respect the bond. And thus he feels a certain obligation to honour it in the best way he can.

This doesn’t mean he thinks she is right for him, any further than his attraction to her (which like same dude same), he hasn’t displayed any signs that they actually aline as a couple. And I feel like SJM clearly highlights this when she sets examples of his gifts not being... well right for her.

The gloves we know she never wears show us how little they know each other as she loves to get dirty [which Feyre had told him] and the pearl necklace is then contrasted by Azriels which was very personalised to Elain.

(The rose, the secret beauty of it hitting the light etc...)

These are all deliberate moves by Sarah to showcase their misaligned bond.

And during Elain’s section I will also be pointing out some Lucien moments that really don’t read well for him. I genuinely believe he is much happier amongst the Band of Exhiles than he is when he is seen with The Inner Circus.

Elain

Here is the thing, this situation isn’t any easier on him that’s true but people need to respect Elains feelings, and the fact is she does not like him. Not only does she not like him but she shrinks in on herself, she looses all the progress and confidence she has made since the Cauldron. That is not a good sign of anything healthy.

If this is suppose to be a romance we root for why is she doing everything in her power to make it seem the opposite? If she genuinely was playing the long game she would have at least started to make them comfortable around each other, goodness they don’t even have to talk, but she does the opposite.

She emphasises that he brings out the bad in her. Again, no bueno. She quite simply does not want to be around him and with SJM’s writing I think this is highly deliberate on her part.

[And let’s be clear there are countless quotes from the other books that do NOT reflect well on their relationship but I am trying to stick to ACOSF, as it is her most recent work, otherwise I would be here all day.]

Rejecting the Bond

We have almost a two page discussion on why mating bonds are not an exact science, and that they can be more harmful than good. We are given two examples of it, with both Rhys’ and Tamlin’s parents. And then we get a very subtle hit at Azriel. This is all in the book Sarah said she began planting the seeds for the sisters journeys.

We also know from this there is a choice. But that many force it, because they feel it it right, (much like Lucien is probably doing right now, because he feels a duty and hope that it will work out.)

Then we have the fact thrown at us that a lot of males believe that their mate belongs to them and will challenge the other male, which we now have a call back to with Rhys’ mentioning “The Blood Duel”.

There is literally not one reason Sarah would put this in TWICE only for it never to happen or come close too happening. How anyone can question at this point that Elriel will happen is confusing to me, she has laid all the groundwork for it.

Now I don’t believe for a second that Lucien wouldn’t respect her choice, I think it will most certainly come down to Beron forcing his hand to wage the war we know he wants.

I think despite what Rhys said in Azriel’s POV under immense stress, TNC will protect Elain and ultimately stand by her decision.

Not only does ACOSF spend a great deal of time creating a further divide between Elain & Lucien it also add a shockingly large quantity of easter eggs about “Elain choosing bonds” “Other Mate” “What if it chose wrong?” and again in this book like in ACOMAF we bring back up a failed mated pair to remind you of it’s existence.

All possible signs lean towards them breaking the bond.

And frankly from a storytelling perspective having three perfect bonds that are basically the same overarching love story (enemies to lovers) is boring, she would want to shake it up and throw a little curveball.

Lucien + Azriel & Why I think Azriel will have a bond with Elain.

“If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate” And low and behold it is Azriel who figures out what was going on with her. Not to mention in the reveal SJM further displays that Lucien has no clue what was going on with her.

I don’t know what bridge holds their bond but I wouldn’t trust crossing it personally... :/

Further still, Lucien cannot hear her heart. Their bond is definitely not strong but you could also argue that is not an element of the bond at all but rather of her abilities perhaps. Since we know she could hear the sea too though it was nowhere close by.

But Azriel did hear her, he did pay attention and he figured out what was amiss.

It is interesting to me that people took such issue with this when I believe very few have issues with Rhys or Cassian fighting for their respective partners. Now I have gone in to it in depth about how I think that this was pure emotion and illogical on Azriel’s part, and I don’t believe he would kill Lucien so carelessly.

I think it speaks to the same blind emotion a lot of them have displayed for their mates, Lucien may have wanted to see if she was worth it but Azriel knows she is worth the fight.

And for all intensive purposes in that moment he was willing to fight for someone he believes shares his feelings.

Now let’s tackle the whole “Possessive” crap.

First of all, all of the male pairings in this series have shown moments like this, so if it is bothering you here why isn’t it bothering you at other points?

Lucien has been just as instinctively possessive from their bond, and let me clarify, I am not shaming him for that anymore than anyone else. What I am pointing out is the double standard, if anything Azriel has more reason to feel like he can fight for her because she has actually shown him care, interest and attraction.

They have actually bonded a lot more than she has with Lucien thus far.

And if they truly do have an upcoming bond then judging him on three paragraphs when we don’t know what the heck is going on is just ridiculous.

On the same note of that scene, let’s talk about “deserve”

First of all he never said he deserved her, Rhys implied that is what he was gleaning from the conversation and that it is just lust, which we know is not the case. Clearly Rhys perception is not accurate at all so to take his statement at face value and call it fact is a bit disingenuous.

Azriel wasn’t claiming he deserves her, did you read his POV at all?? He didn’t even feel like his hands should touch her let alone deserve her. Please go back and read that chapter again if you can’t see that.

Not to mention I think that the idea of FATE, and believing in hope even when the odds are stacked against you (AKA her having a mate) is actually very consistent with SJM storytelling and Az. Remember this;

The fact that he is hopeful despite the despair of his situation is exactly what people have valued about him. Not to mention after Rhys says this to Azriel he says to them;

So Rhys too believes they were brought in his family for a reason, some sort of fate.

Amren too thinks they are blessed by fate. Why is it so shocking and offensive that Azriel have a little hope that there is a reason they came in to their lives? Because he isn’t with your fav?

Let’s be honest he didn’t exactly get over Mor in ACOMAF, ACOWAR and then even ACOFAS there are slight moments, thats over a long period. Three sisters didn’t just arrive and he went TAG “I want one.”

No, he genuinely grew to care for Elain, and let go of his past, and in watching Elain not find any connection with her mate he saw it as a sign that the Cauldron was wrong, which we know it can be.

I don’t know if people are selective readers but if you think that he doesn’t care for her as a person beyond being a “sister” I don’t know what to tell you, we are not reading the same books.

ANYWAYS back on topic.

I think Sarah has laid a lot of groundwork for her breaking the bond and perhaps choosing a new one. I know not everyone is keen on another bond as they feel her free will and choice is enough, that’s fair and I agree to a point.

I just wanted to analyse the data at hand, and I do believe after ACOSF (I never thought it prior really) that they are mates in some capacity, whether that is because of the Cauldron or something that will occur... I think she has laid enough groundwork for them being Soulmates at the least. Hence why I love the idea of a Carranam bond.

There are so many parallels between Rhys, Cassian & Az that could be taken as little signs but honestly this is long enough I am sure you all want to kill me already for making you read all that hahaha

One last little morsel, it very well might be nothing but Az shouting after they take Elain is an interesting choice, it’s ambiguous enough that you can take it to mean the pain but it could also be another little crumb.

Basically with all said and done I think she will give Elain her agency back and break it.

And potentially something will occur with Azriel as a result but thats certainly more grey than the rest of it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

Obviously, to each their own opinion, have fun and ship whatever you want these are just my thoughts on the text at hand!

(Also I am sorry I got like 20+ messages to get to in my inbox, yeah I kinda ignored everyone and worked on this today, sorry!!! I’ll be back tomorrow)

#elriel #elriel mates #elain archeron #azriel #acosf spoilers #acosf #acotar #azriel x elain #elriel meta #myelriel #anti elucien #anti-elucien

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onlymexsarah · 4 years

Note

Can we please get more Prince Friedrich? Maybe meeting his family

Prince Friedrich | The sweet taste of sin

I had few informations so I let my fantasy take the control. I hope you like it, otherwise write me and I’ll do something else for you😘

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Kinda the Sequel of “Prince Friedrich | Jealousy” Prince Louis Charles and Duchess Frederica of Prussia come at the end of the season to see their son and meet y/n Bridgerton, the lady who had taken the heart of the Prince, but there is more…

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Bridgerton!reader

A/N: so I made some researches about our lovely prince Friedrich and I found out that he never become a king because he was the cousin of the actual King, and now everything makes sense to me. Also, I’ve learned that the Prince’s and Duchess’ marriage wasn’t a happy one, because they didn’t love each other :( Prince Luois Charles should be dead, he died three years after Friedrich birth, but it would be too much complicated so we are going to pretend that we sucks in history and none of us knew it, alright? ;D

warnings: my english :)

PREQUEL 1 - PREQUEL 2

Here we are, the end of another scandalous London season.

Surely, it has not been boring for everyone. We had found out the diamond of the season, and found out that sometime a pearl can take the most requested heart.

The Duke and Duchess of Hastings are organizing evrything for the last ball of the season, how many scandals it will bring to us?

There are rumors about a separation between the two; was their love just a flame that with the first rain had been turned off?

Well, what we know is that the Duchess’ sister, Miss Y/n, is still enjoying her newborn love with her Charming Prince, and I am more then happy for them.

It seems that Duchess Frederica and Prince Louis Charles of Prussia are coming to visit our lovely Queen Charlotte and their son, Prince Friedrich, is this the only reason? Lady Y/n Bridgerton had been seen quite nervous in these days, fear to meet your future father and mother in law, dear?

What I know far now is that the Prince hasn’t proposed yet, and this could bring doubts in the mind of a young Lady in love. Instead of walking between the streets of the city, the Prince had invited her to see the Palace’s garden more often, but don’t be surprise if you find yourself in front of them; it must be remember that Lady Bridgerton is still one of us, she can’t stay away from her normality too much.

I ask myself what the Royal Family will think about that...will they accept her or they will take the Prince away to return in Prussia and found themself a wife for him?

When it will happen, I’ll be the first to find out. But no need to worry our future Princess, you will charm the Duchess and the Prince as you had charmed Prince Friedrich.

“‘Normality’? Now being normal it’s bad’“ you said offended looking the paper in your hands.

“I am sure she meant nothing bad, my dear.” said your mother sweetly sit in front of you. You were drinking tea at the park all together, your family and Friedrich. He insisted to spend time with them to know all your brothers and sisters, and you couldn’t be more than happy. There were times when Hyacinth and Gregory weren’t polite and quiet as all of you, but he didn’t mind instead he started to play with them or just listen what they had to say.

“There is nothing to worry about, Y/n. In this months I learned to ignore Lady Whistledown’s words if they are not nice things toward someone.” Friedrich said resting his hand on yours that was on the table. You smiled to thank him turning to focuse on the paper resting now on the table in front of you.

“Lady Whistledown had written only good things about you two, sister. I think she likes you, together.” Colin said standing behind your mother chair looking the children in the park.

“Yes, I know...” your voice was a whisper and yu weren’t sure if he had heard you, but you couldn’t move away your eyes from Lady Whistledown’s words. Will Friedrich’s parents accept me? I am not a princess, how can they like me?

Since you knew about their arrival the doubts started to hunt you day and night. The dram of thr last night kept repeting in your mind; you had arrived at the Palace to meet Friedrich, but in the Great Hall you had seen him and Cressida getting married telling the guards to take you away. You knew she would be a better princess then you; she had the behave and the submission that you had never had. You couldn’t deny thet they would be a perfect couple together, but yet he had chosen you and the fear that he might see the mistake he had done when you’ll meet his parents scared you.

The Prince saw a shadow crossing your face while everyone started talking again. You were in your own world with the eyes focused on nowhere and an empty smile on your face.

“I would like to take Miss Y/n for a walk, if you agree Miss Bridgerton.” said Friedrich kindly. Hearing your name woke you up from your trance looking him first and then your mother.

“Of course you can, Prince Friedrich. Y/n is not the one who likes stay sit for a long time.” she said happy. He had always made sure to have her approvation for everything you did together; he valued her thoughts as much as Anthony’s.

“You are right, mother. I find the walks very healthy, indeed.” you took Friedrichìs hand that was kindly offered by him to help you to stand up. Intertwining your right arm with his, you started to walk hearing the footsteps of his guards behind you. They never left him evem when you had lunch at your house, but you didn’t mind, it was for his own safety and you didn’t want anything to happen to him.

After a while, when your family was out of hearing, he took an orange lily at his right and raised it in front of your face. “A flower for your thoughs.”

You took the beautiful flower in your hand with the first true smile of the day. “Thank you, my Prince. I am sorry if I’ve been revelead to not be a good company today; just...”

“Thoughs.” he finished your sentence understanding. It had already happened sometime that the two of you finished each other’s phrases; it was lovely for the other people and funny for you. “They might be about what Lady Whistledown wrote? When you call me ‘my Prince’ means that something if wrong.”

You brought the flower at your nose to smell its perfume. “Well, I like how it sounds, my Prince.” you smiled amused seeing him lowering his head and laughing. “But it’s not just that. Lady Whistledown had been in our life since months now, I’m used at her words...” you took a breath looking around. “Your father and mother are coming... They might expect that the one who took the Prince’s interest is at least a princess as well, but they are going to see that I am just...me.”

“I stop you here, dear.” he stopped in the middle of the little bridge of the park bringing you in front of him. “They don’t expect nothing if not what my letters said about you, and you know who they are going to see?” he took the flower from your hands breaking the stem and slowly putting the lily in your hair over your ear. His hands made you feel butterfly in your stomach; you didn’t know what your body desired, but you were sure that the little few times he had touched you weren’t enough. “They’ll see that the woman who took my heart is the most clever, beautiful and wonderful woman in the world. Because this, my dear Y/n...” he brought your hands to his mouth kissing them sweetly making you blush with a shy smile on your face. “is who you are.”

“I do not know what I did to deserve your heart, Friedrich, but you took mine long time ago, and I know there are no safest hands that could hold it.” you both stepped closer at the same time finding yourself with only few inches between your bodies. Your chest were almost touching, his breath a little above your lips and your hands still in his big ones. His big blue eyes didn’t leave yours, looking for few seconds your sweet smile.

“I promise you that I will take care of it as you are taking care of mine.” after a while still looking in each other’s eyes, you started to walk again laughing and joking and at the end of the day you felt more relaxed.

You slept all night, and when in the morning Mary, your waitress, came to wake you up you had almost forgotten Lady Whistledown’s words and you were ready to see Friedrich and apologies for the behave you had the day before. You were worry for nothing, even when Mary dressed you and styled your hair who you saw in the mirror was a Lady who looked like a swan in her dress.

When you entered in the living room all the eyes were on you; your brothers stood up quickly while your mother hid something behind the pillow of the couch. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes sister.” “Nothing wrong.” “You look nice in that dress.” they said almost at the same time nervously.

“You are odd.” you said shaking your head and walking toward your mother. “What is happening?”

“I have to tell you something, my dear. Sit down, here.” you sit on the couch beside your mother still confused by the reaction of everyone. “You see, we had found out a thing...you don’t have to-”

“The Duchess and the Prince are here in London!” yelled Hyacinth excited. Your breath froze, the air seemed to be stone because you coudln’t move and all your eyes could focus on was your mother in front of you who now was yelling at your little sister.

“Mama, tell me they are not the Duchess and the Prince of Prussia.” she looked at you sorry trying to find the right words to calm you. “Brothers! Tell me they are not.”

Benedict and Colin ran away from the room closing the door behind them and blocking Anthony with you. He turned around with a nervous smile on his face studying your body language. Impossible. You have grown up hiding your true feelings, with a smile on your face and ready to nod whenever you didn't share the same ideas of your interlocutor because you were a woman, and you had to appear polite not smart. But in a family like yours you couldn’t care less, indeed Anthony could see the bright light of the fear in your eyes.

“Yes, dear sister, the Duchess and Prince of Prussia are arrived tonight. Lady Whistledown talked about it in her morning paper.” he said walking toward the couch that was in front of the one you and your mother were sitting on.

“S-so they’re here.” you looked your mother terrified. “Friedrich said that they would have spent the first few days at the palace or around the city, so I don’t need to worry for now.”

The door opened and one of your manservant enterd in hurry. “Lord Bridgerton, Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton...” he bowed to all of you. “Prince Louis Charles and Duchess Frederica of Prussia have requested your presence tonight to dine with them at the Palace.” your eyes got wider froze on your seat unable to say something. “And...Duchess Frederica had requested your presence personally, Miss Bridgerton. She wish to know you better and...talk.”

His and your mother’s eyes were fixed on you while Anthony looked in your direction with the corner of his eyes trying to not laugh at your terrified face. “Tell them we will be there.”

The manservant bowed and walked away closing the door behind him. That day all the housemaids, waitress and waiters had the orders to help Anthony, Lady Violet and you in any ways possible to male sure that you would be ready for the dinner with the Royal family. No one questioned your absence around the house, they were all to busy to notice it.

You were in your room, sit on your bed looking the wall opposite of you with Mary beside the mirror waiting for your orders. Nothing was worse than think that all your time with Friedrich, all your laughs and your conversations could be swept away just with a worng word, awkward movement or with the wrog dress.

The fear of losing Friedrich was more painful than you expected. It wasn’t because he was a Prince, no you couldn’t care less about his title when there were just the two of you together. You liked his company, his humor and you had a thing for his voice; sometime happened that he told you thing in german making you loose your mind. You felt save around him, and it wasn’t because the guards always with him, but you knew that he would never let something happen to you; he would protect you with his own body if neccessary. And then, there was the physical part; you liked his eyes, his curly blonde hair, you liked his being taller and muscular than you, you liked when his big hands took yours or when he would put his hand on your wait during a dance. He made you feel strange feelings in your body, feelings you could not tell anyone about.

You..you loved him? What was love? Love was the one that shared your father and mother; love was the feeling that kept together your family; love was Simon who married your sister to not let her fall in a scandal; maybe love was Colin who would refuse to dance with any ladies to dance with Penelope... you were sure that love was the smile on your mother’s face at the wedding of Daphne and Simon.

Was love the flower in your hair? Was love the book on your bedside table that had a sweet note from Friedrich? Was love the fact that he forbide to you and your family to bow when you meet? Was love the shivers you felt on your back everytime you were extremely close to him? Or when he spoke in your ear?

You weren’t sure if what you felt was love, maybe the love arrived after the marriage, or maybe after the first child, but something strong must precede it, right? The same strong feeling you felt inside your chest all the time you thought about him. If it was love, if there were a thiny little chance that what you felt was the true love that mother used to talk about then you had to fight and keep it. No Prince, no Duchess and no Queen could take it away until you said so.

You stood up walking in front of the wardrobe opening it and then turned around to look at Mary whose eyes were already on you. “Mary, I want to look like a princess, tonight.”

“I promise you, Miss Bridgerton, you will be the most beautiful Princess that the world had ever seen.” she said smiling and starting to search the right dress among the ones that your mother made you buy from the modist.

“I’m fine with just the England and Prussia.” you smirked slyly.

Hours passed and finally you were ready to take the carriage with your brother and your mother. Benedict spoke to you before your departure, complimeting your beauty and reassuring you that everything would be fine.

He was right, you were beautiful. Your dress, long and bright blue Bridgerton had gems on the top and the bottom was simple but elegant. You didn’t want to wear to much jewerly, they weren’t your type, so instead you decide to wear a necklace choker with a small diamond in it. Your long arms were free and around your shoulder was a shawl of a colour little more lighter than your dress.

When the door of the throne room opened in fron of you the nervouness made you almost faint. Sit on the thrones were Queen Charlotte and a beautiful woman you suspected to be the Duchess; Friedrich was standing beside the Queen and his father beside his mother.

“Your Majesties: Lady Viole Bridgerton, her son Lord Anthony Bridgerton and her daughter, Miss Y/n Bridgerton.” the guard announced you. You three walked toward the throne smiling even thought you didn’t know who to look at, so you watched the Queen and the Duchess until the end and then, before bowing, you looked at your Prince who was already looking at you and both of you smiled at each other.

Staying bowed in front of the Queen felt like the day you’ve got present to her along with Daphne, but this time Prince Friedrich was there and coming to your side he offered you a hand. You took it and stood up smiling at him. Even thought you charmed him with everything you did, he didn’t want to see you bow in front of him; it seemed like everytime you did it a wall grew up between you two.

“Your Majesties, it’s a honor to all of us to meet you.” said your brother raising up beside you with your mother.

The Duchess stood up and with her husband walked toward you. You couldn’t read their expression at all. The Duchess was a beautiful woman with long blonde curly hair and the Prince was as tall as his son with white hair and a kind face.

You smiled trying to relase your nerves, they both seemed kind and Friedrich spoke about them a lot so yoi kinda knew that they weren’t difficult people, but still their looks made you feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Friedrich didn’t give justice at your beauty, sweetheart.” the Duchess said smiling allowing you to leave a breath of relief.

“You are too kind, Your Grace.” you smiled shyly. You didn't know what to say or what to do, should you say a compliment as well?

"It's a pleasure meet you, Miss Bridgerton. My son talked a lot about you, all good thing of course.” said his father smiling and kissing your hand.

“I’m flattered, Your Grace. I hope Prince Friedrich didn’t lie too much.” they laughed and invited you and your family into the dining room. You and Friedrich walked together behind your brother and his father and in front of your mothers while the Queen led you through the halls.

“Prince Friedrich?” he asked looking at you with a eyebrow raised offering his arm to walk closer.

“They are the Duchess and Prince of Prussia, I cannot call their son by his first name. It’s inappropriate!” you said amused intertwining your arms together, enjoying that little touch.

“Are you nervous?” he asked kindly giving a quick look behind; your mothers were speaking together whispering and looking at the two of you.

“Why should I? There is my brother, and there is you at my side. I have everything I need right now.” you miled seeing his face light up.

“Then I promise you I will never leave your side until you order me so.” he took your chair like a gentleman helping you to sit and then he sat beside you.

“I think you will have to keep your promise for a long time, Friedrich.” you gave him a sweet smile before looking the others at the table.

The Duchess was sit in front of you beside your mother, you were between Friedrich and your brother while the Queen and the Prince were at the two heads of the table. You offered a smile to everyone noticing that the Duchess’ smile never left her face while you spoke.

They made you questions, what you liked to do, where you met Friedrich and the Prince asked you to tell them about your travel with Colin leaving you surprise by such kindness and curiosity. Friedrich took every chance to speak with you and your mother, wanting to make both feel comfortable, but the Duchess commited herself in a lot of conversation with you.

Once the dinner was ended you hoped that you and Friedrich could have time to walk away like usual, but the Duchess surprised you again.

“Miss Bridgerton, can I have the honor to walk with you a little?” she asked making your eyes grew wider. Friedrich tried to say something but his mother sushed him. “Don’t worry Friedrich, I only want to know her without you men around. Come sweetheart, you can show me the garden.”

You gave a smile to Friedrich trying to reassure more yourself than him. You walked with the Duchess out of the dining room with two guards behind you. “Your Grace...just know that the honor is mine...” you said shyly trying to break that silent.

“Please we are alone, call me Frederica now. My husband is the one who follows the rules.” she took your arm kindly, but you could feel that it was different from when was Friedrich the one who took it.

“I am not sure if I can do it, Duchess.” your sincerity made her laugh.

“Friedrich told me that. You are really a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“I hope so, You Gra-F...Frederica.” you got out into the garden. The moon was full illuminating all the flowers and the fountains.

“You learn fast! Come, sit down with me. Here, good.” you sat confused starting to wonder the real reason of that walk. “Now, I wished to speak with you alone for a long time.” you nodded to let her keep going. “My son is a charming man, and many women fell for him even before knowing his title. Hi’s handsome, I’m aware of that, but still his heart is kind and big and it’s my duty as a mother to make sure that it will not break for the wrong person. So, I can trust you and leaving his heart in your hands?”

“Of course you can, Your Grace. I have no desire to make Friedrich unhappy or even break his heart. I would never, never do such thing. ” your heart was beating faster and faster afraid that one wrong word and the Duchess would walk away forbidding you to see her son again.

“Good! You can come back to my son then, I’m sure he is worried for you. I’ll stay here to enjoy this beautiful night.” she said relaxed looking the sky. You watched her astonished...did she really believed you? Didn’t she need a speech or a proof?

She seemed so in peace with herself, like that was the happiest moment in her life. You could run away, you could return to your Prince and spend time with him. It was what your body wanted, indeed your legs made you stooding up and walking away. Few steps and your consciouness made you stop, you couldn’t leave her there with just those words.

“Your Grace...” she looked at you like she was already expecting it. “My father died when I was little...I don’t have many memories with him, he was a busy man, but I knew he loved all of us.” she smiled sweetly taking your hand to make you sit again. “I grew up with the stories of my mother about how much they loved each other. It was my favorite tale when I was little and my biggest dream now...you see, I don’t know what is love, I don’t know how to recognise it, but I promised to myself that I would have married for love, the same love that my father felt for my mother and vice versa, the same love that keep my mother waking up every morning alone in the same bed she once shared with the love of her life.” the Queen had tears in her eyes with a hand in front of her mouth. “In your son I found a friend, I found someone with who I can share interests and hobbies. He makes me feel above the moon, and I hope I do the same at him...I don’t know if this is love, but I assure you that nothing will change my feelings for him and could God never forgive me if I will break his heart.”

She hugged you, strongly and warm as your mother was used to do. It didn’t feel strange that the Duchess of Prussia was hugging you, it felt like a second mother. “My marriage was not for love, but I made sure that Friedrich knew the meaning of it. My biggest desire is that a day he would have what I didn’t, and I think I can trust you, dear Y/n.” she smiled wiping away the few tears she had on her cheeks. “Go, we have made my son waiting enough.” you returned inside laughing with the Duchess leaving all of the people inside the living room speechless. “Oh, hi honey. I’m sorry if we did late, you two will make up for the lost time in these days. Now it’s late, should we going to sleep?”

“I agree, Your Grace. Come Y/n, it’s quite a long journey.” said your mother standing up from the couch looking for Anthony who was speaking with the Prince.

“At this time the street are dangerous, Lady Bridgerton. Are you sure you don’t need some guard with you?” asked Queen Charlotte concerned.

“Thank you, Your Highness, but I have to refuse your offer.” Anthony said bowing and taking his hat.

“Such nosense! The Palace has hundreds rooms at least, you could stay here for the night.” Prince Louis suggested looking Anthony for his approval.

“It’s too much, Price Louis. We don’t want to disturb Your Highness even more.” he said polite looking the Queen.

You and Friedrich shared a confused look, what if you would spend the night there? You could see him in the morning and maybe he would walk you at home to stay together longer.

“In some way or another Lady Bridgerton we are destined to be family...” the Queen said looking at you and Friedrich quickly making you both blush. “So I don’t see any problem to let you sleep here for a night. Prince Friedrich wuold never forgive me if something happens to you.”

With astonishment in the face of all of you Bridgerton, the waitress showed you the rooms where you would stay. All the three of you got separeted at some point and you had no idea where were the rooms of your brother and your mother; you didn’t even know where you were.

Your room was huge, full of paintings and books. There was a canopy bed in front of you, the blankets were white, pure as a flower that must be took yet; just like you.

You let your hair free from all the haripins, the long waves caressed your back while you let the dress fell down. You took the corset away, breathing again like you had been drowing; you would sleep in your petticoat that was of the colour of your dress.

Once the curtains were closed, you were ready to go to sleep when you heard someone knocking at your door. Sure that it was your brother or your mother you went to open it before gasping in surprise. Friedrich was in front of you, not in his usual uniform, but with a simple beige shirt and black pants.

“Y-your Gr...I mean Friedrich. I didn’t expect you to come here.” you were afraid; afraid of how easyly seemed in that moment to fall and commit a sin without being seen, and you couldn’t let it happen.

“I know, I am sorry to disturb you. I wanted to make sure if you were ok...I don’t know what you and my mother talked about...” he said smiling. You let out a breath; of course he wasn’t there to tempt you, his intentions were true and it wasn’t his fault if you felt such strange feelings inside you. He wasn’t aware of the battle your body was having with your mind.

“You are so kind, Friedrich. I am more than fine, your mother is really the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” you offered him a smile. “I thank you for your though, but it would be not appropriate if some one see us here alone...”

“I-I know and it was not my intention to insult you in any way coming here. It felt strange being in the same place but not being together...I missed you, Y/n.” you felt your heart melt at his words making you close the door behind you so that you were in the desert hall together.

You took his hand bringing it to your cheek. You close your eyes for few moments enjoying his warm against your skin. “I missed you too, Friedrich, but I had to assure your mother with some business.”

You smiled to each other while he came closer to you with a step. You had never imagined that being at the same distance as when you dance would be different if you two were alone. There was no reason to stop, there was no reason to compose yourself if no one would be able to see you, and you were scared that there was nothing to hold your body to take what it craved so much.

He kissed your hair letting your forehead restin on each other. You noticed that his breath had got heavier just as yours and you had to close your eyes to focus on the situation and not on his lips so close to yours.

He cleared his throat caressing your cheek with his thumb. “A proper gentleman would leave, wishing you a good night and telling you he would wait the morning to come so he could see you again.”

“And a true Lady would thank you for your words and praying to the morning to come faster so that the hours spent alone wouldn’t be too much.” you whispered taking big breath. You felt something tickling inside your stomach, your legs shaking and shivers were emanated from his other hand that now was gently rested on your hip.

“Can...can you hear someone approacing? Listen carefully.” both of you staied silent trying to control your breaths so that you could hear better.

No noise arrived at your ears, only the whisper of the night that brought sinful suggest. You shaked your head slowly, not wanting to break the silent that was hugging you, hiding your bodies from the people out there.

He opened his mouths few times, trying to say something but the words died in his throat. He was distracted by so many things...your skin under his hand, the blush on your cheeks... he was drunk of your parfume and your breath on his lips was like a magnet to him; a magnet too strong for his own soul.

He brought his lips on yours, slowly and kindly, leading you on the street of the pleasure. Your body was completely under his control; your hands went to caress his hair while his hand that was on your cheek lowered slowly on your neck. His thumb kept moving on your skin while the hand went on the back of your neck, knowing that you would not be the first to break the kiss, but keeping your body hypnotized by his touch.

He kept his movement slow even when the kiss got deeper. You were sure he knew what he was doing, because when you felt your legs shaking even more he made your back rest on the door closed behind you.

Your body knew what to do, your lips moved with his like it was something you had done every day, and oh god you wished you could. Now that you had tasted him, now that you were feeling his lips on yours and his hands touching your body like he never did, you wanted more. You were sure that you couldn’t have enough of him from that day on, because once you know the sweet taste of a sin, you can’t stop.

#prince friedrich x reader #prince friedrich #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #fluff

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 23 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke with a start at the sound of something slamming to the point of cracking – a door thrown too hard, perhaps, or the shattering of a piece of furniture under the strength of a powerful cultivator.

Dazed at having been woken so abruptly at such a late hour, he at first thought that the sound was an aberration of some sort, someone making too much noise by mistake, even some cultivation maniac doing exercises in the middle of the night that had briefly lost control, but then the sounds continued, crashing and slamming and even indistinct shouting.

Indistinct, and unfamiliar, but still recognizable – that was Wen Ruohan’s voice.

Lan Qiren had never heard him shout before.

He stood up, instinctively checking over his clothing and fixing his forehead ribbon, and padded out towards the door to the hallway. The array used to create enough silence to let him sleep was glowing faintly, doing its work against overwhelming odds, but Lan Qiren didn’t hesitate to dismiss it and pull open the door, poking his head out to see what was going on.

“ – what use are you?” Wen Ruohan was shouting, some distance down the hall. “Good-for-nothing bitch! What do you think I got you for in the first place?”

He was standing outside his wife’s door.

Lan Qiren had not seen Madame Wen on this visit, other than in passing. He’d been relieved to discover that he had heard accurately and that she had not suffered on account of what she had done, except perhaps as a result of her husband making clear that he would give her exactly what he had promised her out of their marriage and nothing more. Despite that, every time she saw him, she generally had an expression that resembled smelling something bad, and he didn’t especially want to deal with her irrational jealousy.

(Lan Qiren could understand and even appreciate the truth that she had shown him, but it didn’t mean he appreciated the reasoning behind her actions - just as Wen Ruohan might appreciate the cunning and ambition demonstrated by her actions, and begrudgingly acknowledge that the real fault for their divide was his own actions, but not feel any more inclined to her as a result.)

Lan Qiren thought he might have to deal with her more, particularly on the few times he had visited little Wen Xu, who was already a size or two larger than he’d started out – it was simply shocking in terms of how much time had passed since he’d had his argument with Wen Ruohan – but he found that the child was largely being watched by servants, not the Madame, who was busy ruling the social scene of the Nightless City. Whether that was true or merely an excuse, by now it was clear that they were in mutual agreement that they did not want to spend any time in each other’s presence.

She was also, very clearly, refusing to let Wen Ruohan into her bedroom.

Lan Qiren couldn’t blame her: he’d never seen Wen Ruohan in a state like this. His clothing was mussed up, his hands clenched, his face red, his aura frighteningly strong and overwhelming, his monstrously powerful qi roiling the air in the hallway into an incipient storm – and even from the distance he was standing, Lan Qiren could smell the distinct odor of strong liquor, suggesting that Wen Ruohan had overindulged in alcohol at some point after Lan Qiren had gone to sleep. Based on casual mentions in prior conversation, Lan Qiren knew that Wen Ruohan’s cultivation level was so high as to render him largely unaffected even by significant drinking, but the fact that he had bothered to try to seek solace in the wine jar suggested that there was something incredibly wrong with his mental state.

It wasn’t a qi deviation - the violent emanations were unsettled, but not distorted - but it wasn’t good, either.

Wisdom would counsel that Lan Qiren keep back and not get in Wen Ruohan’s way.

Righteousness, on the other hand…

Anyway, Wen Ruohan was his sworn brother. What sort of brother would Lan Qiren be if he took only the good and not the bad?

“Da-ge?” he called, stepping out into the hallway. “Da-ge, come away from there.”

Wen Ruohan turned to him, and his expression was frightening. “Fine. You’ll do,” he growled, and it was only because Lan Qiren had grown wiser and stronger that he realized what was about to happen and dodged before Wen Ruohan could grab him, darting back into his room.

Wen Ruohan followed him in.

“What happened?” Lan Qiren asked, still backing away. “You were fine at dinner – what happened since then?”

For some reason, that set Wen Ruohan off again, turning his attention away from Lan Qiren, and he grabbed the table and threw it into the wall, smashing it all to pieces.

“That fucker,” he snarled, his eyes blank and distant. He wasn’t angry at Lan Qiren, that much was clear, but he was filled with ceaseless rage, and he was taking it out on everything around him. “That fucker got married! He’s got a son!”

Lan Qiren blinked. “…what?”

Smash went the cabinet, and all the various things on it. At least Wen Ruohan hadn’t started in on the paintings, which were the only aspect of the room Lan Qiren actually cared or worried about.

“Who got married and had a son?” Lan Qiren asked, even though he knew it would only inflame Wen Ruohan further. At this point, it was clear that Wen Ruohan’s had gotten stuck in his chest, like black blood that needed to be coughed; he needed to vent his anger or else it would curdle within him and he would suffer. “Normally that’s a good thing, a cause for celebration. Why is it bad here?”

“Because it’s Lao Nie!” Wen Ruohan burst out, and Lan Qiren rocked back on his heels in shock.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t known that Lao Nie had been unusually distracted these past few months, even most of a year – the way he’d ignored or disregarded Lan Qiren’s letters about the situation with He Kexin, the breezy and almost manic tone of his replies to Lan Qiren’s brother, which Lan Qiren had seen, it all spoke of distraction and carelessness, all typical of Lao Nie, albeit of far greater severity than usual.

Nor was it truly a surprise that none of them had been informed: the Qinghe Nie had always been idiosyncratic about their personal details, unusually secretive and fiercely proud of it. They did not share their birth date or even year, other than for arranging a marriage. If Lan Qiren had thought about it, he wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out that Lao Nie would have married and had a child all without having shared any information on the subject until afterwards.

Only…

“But aren’t you – with him?” he asked, and knew immediately that he had asked the wrong question.

Wen Ruohan roared and smashed yet another thing, sending a palm strike through a dresser and denting the stone wall with the power of it. “He’s mine,” he spat. His eyes were even redder than usual, the sclera becoming red alongside the iris; it made him look almost possessed, almost as if he really were having some sort of qi deviation. “He’s mine, damn it! Who is he to give himself to another? And he didn’t even tell me…!”

They were definitely in a relationship, Lan Qiren confirmed to himself. His guess had been right. There could be no doubt about it. And yet, despite it all, Lao Nie had –

No, he couldn’t even express surprise. Lan Qiren knew Lao Nie, knew what he valued and how he valued it: Lao Nie had always been passionate and powerful, strong and superior, friendly and often kind, and yet at his core he was ruthless, careless, and selfish, just like Wen Ruohan was so often selfish. He did not concern himself overmuch with questions of righteousness, other than to the degree necessary to win glory to his sect as one on the righteous path. After his sect, which he valued most of all, he was an indolent pleasure-seeker, with terrible taste in partners, the more dangerous the better; Lan Qiren had seen him flirting with people left and right long after he’d concluded that he’d entered into a relationship with Wen Ruohan.

In the past, Wen Ruohan hadn’t seemed to mind. If anything, he’d even encouraged him, looking smug and amused by the flirtations, taking the other man’s victories as his own; during one incident that Lan Qiren could recall, he’d all but applauded when Lao Nie had successfully wooed some rogue cultivator and taken her back to his bed, turning instead to his own separate amusements after.

Then again, that wasn’t a marriage.

(Of course, Wen Ruohan himself had also gotten married…)

“How dare he,” Wen Ruohan said, panting a little from his own exertion, clearly more moved by the feelings raging within him than any type of physical exhaustion. “How dare he – does he think I’m desperate? Pathetic? Does he think I’d run after him, begging and humiliating myself..? I don’t need him at all!”

He turned once more, and this time his gaze focused on Lan Qiren.

“I have something of my own already,” he murmured, and this time Lan Qiren wasn’t fast enough to stop him as he caught him up in his arms, slamming his back against the wall.

Lan Qiren tensed, suddenly for a moment back in his rooms in the Cloud Recesses, looking up at a different brother who wanted to hurt him – but no, Wen Ruohan wasn’t the same, Wen Ruohan liked him. He was acting out of fury, not malice; there was no He Kexin here to goad him on, nothing like that.

Even the force of being pushed against the wall hadn’t actually hurt – Wen Ruohan had been careful even in his mindless rage, making sure that any impact was cushioned by his own arms rather than Lan Qiren’s back; Lan Qiren hadn’t even had the breath knocked out of him.

“Da-ge…!”

Wen Ruohan didn’t want to hear him. He put his hand on Lan Qiren’s mouth and pressed down, cutting off speech at once. They were pressed together so closely that the movement inadvertently dragged his sleeve onto Lan Qiren’s throat, almost making him gag, and he instinctively tried futilely to kick his way out – it didn’t work, of course.

Wen Ruohan pressed up against him, the front of his body burning like flame against Lan Qiren.

“You’re mine,” he said, reaching in to nuzzle the side of Lan Qiren’s head with his cheek. “My blood brother, bound by oath and blood; my shining pearl, untouched by the world. All good things should belong to me.”

Lan Qiren reached up to try to push away the hand at this mouth, wanting to speak even though he did not know what he would say, and at first he thought he’d done it. But then suddenly he was in motion, his back landing hard on the bed he’d been given, the impact softened by the blanket Wen Ruohan had wrapped around him when he’d brought him back to the Nightless City from the Cloud Recesses. Shocked by the unexpectedness of the abrupt movement, he gasped, a wordless inhale rather than any coherent words.

Less than a heartbeat, and Wen Ruohan was on top of him, pressing him down. His body seemed even hotter than usual, as if his whole spirit were aflame, his qi boiling in the air around them until Lan Qiren had the impression as though he ought to be able to see steam; his hands were hot where they pressed down on Lan Qiren’s shoulders, his lips burning as they pressed against his collarbone, and between his legs there was something hot pressing against him, too.

And still, Lan Qiren – was not afraid.

He wasn’t sure why. He’d been terrified when it had been his brother who had stood against him, disgusted when it had been He Kexin pawing at him in ways he did not and had never wanted, but Wen Ruohan, who was bound to him through nothing but a tricked oath…

“Da-ge,” he whispered. “Please stop.”

Wen Ruohan stilled. He didn’t get up or pull away, but he didn’t make any further movements.

“Please let me go.”

Wen Ruohan’s breathing was harsh in his ear. “You, too, little Lan?” he asked. “Just like him, making me think – don’t you like me?”

“I do,” Lan Qiren admitted. He might be stupid when it came to social interactions, might be slow and miss things that were obvious, but even he could figure out what Wen Ruohan meant, with his confession of how Lan Qiren lingered in his thoughts and in pressing him down on the bed like this while mourning the loss of Lao Nie, his lover. And maybe sometimes he needed Cangse Sanren to point things out to him, but most of the time he knew himself. This past week had made clear enough that he enjoyed Wen Ruohan’s endless indulgences in a spirit that was more than just pure brotherhood. “I do like you. But I don’t like – this.”

Wen Ruohan was silent for a long moment.

“Not this, with me,” he finally said. “Or not – at all?”

“At all,” Lan Qiren said. He had thought when he was younger that he might change, but he was increasingly sure that he wouldn’t, that this was just what he was like. “I was never like the others my age. Even Yueheng-xiong, who I would’ve thought loved nothing but mathematics and explosions, has found himself distracted by the shape of the one he likes. But not me. I don’t yearn the way they do. I can love a person’s spirit, but I never much cared for the flesh.”

“Love,” Wen Ruohan echoed, his voice oddly uneven. “You speak of - love?”

“…isn’t that what we’re talking about?”

Wen Ruohan laughed, a jagged and choked up thing, and then he pulled away, letting Lan Qiren go, sitting up on the bed and burying his face in his hands. The qi around him was still too-hot, overwhelming, pulsing with his feelings, even as his shoulders shook and he stared blankly at the wall; any other man, and Lan Qiren might think he was crying, but he could see Wen Ruohan’s face through his fingers, and there were no tears there.

Perhaps he’d forgotten how.

Lan Qiren slowly sat up himself.

He could still feel the mild stiffness of old healing injuries, but he ignored them and got up off the bed, going to the one side table that had yet to be destroyed – the one where he’d laid his guqin to rest. It turned out that Wen Ruohan had only destroyed the things he himself had put into the room; he hadn’t touched anything of Lan Qiren’s.

Lan Qiren settled in front of his guqin and began to play.

Out of all the compositions he had created, his favorite was the one he had first created at the Nightless City, that strange hypnotic melody that brought to mind spilled pearls, but unlike some of the others he’d worked on, it had never felt fully completed. The music wrapped itself around the listener, at first intimate and then oppressive, a heavy stone in their chest and pressure on their skull, growing darker and darker, just as he’d written it – but now he played onwards, elaborating on the theme in ways he hadn’t planned or expected, letting the solemn notes brighten, the overwhelming pressure turning from suffocating into safe as it became clear that it would cause no harm, the storm passing by overhead and leaving things clean and clear and better, the lingering euphoria of finding oneself supported, rather than alone.

When his fingers finally stilled, Lan Qiren looked up and saw Wen Ruohan sitting there with his back straight again, hands resting gently in his lap, eyes closed as if in meditation and face calm once more. His qi no longer coiled around him, lashing out; it had settled once more.

“You will,” Wen Ruohan said without opening his eyes, “be an excellent traveling musician, little Lan. People will fight for the right to hear you, and you will never go without an audience.”

Lan Qiren hesitated, not sure what to make of such a compliment, or what Wen Ruohan meant by it. He’d only intended to play something to help him settle his qi and soothe his rage, which he’d clearly accomplished. He hadn’t even meant to play that particular song, other than in the way that he tended to default to it when he had nothing else specific in mind. It had always been unsatisfying, like an itch, but now it finally felt complete.

“Da-ge –” he started to say, not knowing what he would say next, but at any rate he never had the chance to continue.

“When you do finally go to fulfill your dreams, leaving the dust of the world behind you, I hope that you visit the Nightless City often,” Wen Ruohan said. His tone was still calm, settled, but not, Lan Qiren observed, peaceful: there were all sorts of seething emotions underneath it. “But for the moment, I think it is better if you return to the Cloud Recesses.”

Lan Qiren hesitated once again, this time feeling a little hurt. “You don’t want me here?”

“I do,” Wen Ruohan said, and his lips curved into something that was not a smile; it seemed almost painful a shape to contort into, and his eyes reflected no humor at all when he opened them. “Very much. Ah, little Lan, if only you knew…despite that, I would still have you go. Having made my views on you clear to your brother, it should be safe, and I do not want you to see what beast I make of myself when I am denied.”

Lan Qiren bowed his head a little. “About Lao Nie…”

“I know what he’s like,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’ve always known, from the start. If you had asked me a few days ago, I would have said that I did not have any illusions…”

He smiled bitterly.

“It seems that I misjudged myself.”

“I’ll go,” Lan Qiren said. He didn’t especially want to, but Wen Ruohan wasn’t in a rage, nor lashing out unthinkingly. To refuse him would be to deny him, to treat him as if he could not make his own decisions, and that, he thought, would be worse. “If you want me to, I’ll go, and later, I’ll return.”

Wen Ruohan said nothing, but he watched as Lan Qiren pulled on some more clothing, not caring which one it was, and did his hair back up in the simplest style, favoring speed over substance; he packed away his guqin and his sword and one of the paintings that he had liked best, but took nothing else – after all, it wasn’t as if he were going away for good.

He made it to the door before hesitating, then turned back to look at Wen Ruohan, who was still watching him.

“Is there anything…?” he asked haltingly. “Something I can get you…?”

“Send one of the maids to me,” Wen Ruohan said. “Any of them, it doesn’t matter which. If they’re still hanging around in the family quarters after an eruption like that, it can be seen that their ambition has overcome their good sense, making them a perfect match for me. It would be a shame to deny them the fruits of their victory.”

Lan Qiren didn’t quite understand, but he knew enough to get the gist; he felt his cheeks and ears go hot. Still, he had offered, and it wasn’t something he was willing to do himself, so there was really no basis for refusing to pass along the request. He nodded and slipped out – as Wen Ruohan predicted, there was one of the maids lingering at the far corner, looking around in blatant curiosity. She was pretty enough, Lan Qiren supposed, with an upturned nose and a slightly arrogant air, her clothing carefully arranged to be just a little mussed in a way that Lan Qiren understood most men to find attractive.

“Your sect leader is in my room,” he told her, and she blinked at him. “If you go to him now, he’d probably accept. Up to you, though.”

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. He left, his head held high; when he glanced back anyway, he saw her going into his room, hair patted down and clothing even more carefully arranged – Wen Ruohan hadn’t been wrong when he speculated as to her ambitions. The life of a powerful sect leader, Lan Qiren supposed: desired but never known, as distant from those around him as Lan Qiren but as a consequence of his position rather than his inclination.

He would definitely return, Lan Qiren decided. Perhaps he would even make the Nightless City the first destination on his travels. After all, why should he not? Was Wen Ruohan not his sworn brother, too?

Yes, Lan Qiren thought. That was right.

Wen Ruohan deserved to have someone possess him as he longed to possess others.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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pastaimpact · 4 years

Note

Since ur a catboy and maid simp 👀👀👀👀

Catboy maid headcanons for xiao, scaramouche, zhongli, kaeya and diluc?

Like, they lost a bet and have to drink a potion from albedo that turns them into catboy maid or smth pls?

-mac bulli anon

if u see me rotting, no u didnt

Xiao’s displeased by the transformation, but he has better things to do than to get worked up by a small thorn in his side. He has evil spirits to get rid off, and archons be damned if he’s going to let a pair of furry ears and a tail get in the way of his duty. It’s an odd sight, seeing him swing around his jade spear with his mask on, only to be moe-fied by his ears.

He insists on carrying out his own duties, saying that your selfish desires to have him as your maid won’t overrule his original contract to Rex Lapis. Chances are, you won’t even get him into the maid outfit before he goes running off to dispel some spirits. It can’t be helped: Xiao is someone who values Liyue’s peace before he values anything else, although he does feel a bit fuzzy inside when he sees how ecstatic you are over how cute he looks.

If he does find a moment of reprieve, that’s your best chance to capitalize on his transformation. Xiao claims that he needs no attention or extra love from you, that he’s a yaksha who works alone out of fear of harming you, but he’s still someone who craves for the gentle touch of a fellow being. Tell him that he’s done a good job and that you’re proud of him while cupping his face, and next thing you know, he’ll have slotted himself against your body and tell you that this isn’t necessary, all while his tail wags around happily. Archons forbid that anyone tries to interrupt your cuddling session, because he’ll start hissing like an actual cat the moment your attention is turned away from him.

Xiao purred against your skin, his head resting on the area in between your shoulder and neck. He was always cat-like to begin with: coy, distance, but still gentle and affectionate at the right times. You fondled his ears the way he liked them, and his tail curled up in satisfaction.

“What a pretty kittycat you are,” you cooed, your voice low and calm, like the careful trills of a lullaby. “Always working so hard... Always caring for someone other than yourself... What a good boy.”

“...Keep going,” he murmured, scooting closer to you when you stopped petting him for a second. You let a smile grace your lips as you stroked his soft fur again, enjoying the way the catboy immediately relaxed against you.

How adorable.

Scaramouche is livid, to say the least, by this change. He’s a Fatui Harbinger, and someone who demands nothing short of utmost respect and authority from those around him. Being demoted to not only a servant, but not even a human one at that, is a stain against his spotless, untouchable command.

The entire time he’s placed under your care, he grumbles and snaps at everything that comes his way. He mutters that you should be grateful he’s even putting up with this, and he might just flat-out refuse to do the things you ask of him—until you tell him that you’ll ask someone else, like Signora or Childe. Only then does he come scrambling back to you with a pout on his face and his ears pressed against his head to scold you and say that he could do a better job than any of those sloppy Harbingers could.

He also threatens you, saying that you owe him for humiliating him like this, but he also forgets all about being mean to you the moment you start petting his ears and scratching behind them. Scaramouche swears on his life that he hates being treated like this, but the way he clings to you and purrs loudly clearly says otherwise. He’ll get huffy and frown if you stop petting him, so be prepared for him to completely monopolize your time.

“I hate you for this,” he hissed, practically bristling in your lap. You bit back a laugh, feeling the way he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso, pulling himself as close as he could to your chest. “You’re terrible.”

“It’s ‘You’re terrible, Master’ to you,” you teased, burying your fingers in his hair to tease his ears. The Harbinger opened his mouth as if to snap back at you with a haughty remark, but he immediately melted into your touch instead, giving soft mewls and twisting his head against your skin so that he could feel more of your touch.

“I-I still hate you,” he grumbled, forcing himself to frown at you and huff. He dug his nails into your clothes, settling his chin on your shoulder so that you couldn’t see the blush rising to his cheeks. “Master.”

Zhongli has seen his fair share of oddities, being an archon and all, so he’s grown to get used to whatever life throws at him all while honoring his own approach to life and any traditions he upholds. While being transformed into a cat and a maid, for that matter, is surprising, it’s probably nothing more than a mild inconvenience to a god that once held the ability to shift into a variety of different forms.

He’s a skilled and knowledgeable man, so he’s more than willing to assist you in a variety of topics. His one condition while being placed under your care is that you treat him with the same respect you would show him at any other time. While he may be relatively polite and mild-mannered, he still was a very potent and feared God of War at one point in his life. He doesn’t expect much from you; just drop any funny business around him, and he’ll entertain you for hours with his knowledge about politics, arts, and other fine subjects.

Zhongli is good about keeping his emotions in check, and even with cat ears and a tail, it’s still fairly difficult to gauge how he truly feels. Of course, his new body does betray him every now and then: a flick of his tail to signify intrigue, ears pressed against his head for annoyance, a twitch of his nose for interest. It’s best not to tease him or pry into how he feels whenever he does make an odd movement, but it wouldn’t hurt to present yourself appropriately depending on whatever mood he’s in based off of his little actions. Besides, it’s not everyday that you can see someone as respected and feared as Zhongli in a cute maid dress with his tail swishing excitedly behind him.

His entrance was quiet, and the only thing that even signaled his presence in the room was the rustle of fabric as he walked towards you. His tail was still, and his ears perked up like it had been for the day, ever since he downed the transformation potion. “I brought you tea.”

You looked up from your paperwork, smiling softly at the former archon. You pulled a stray chair close to where you were seated, inviting him to sit down as he set the teacup down in front of you. “You shouldn’t have!”

He shook his head, his ears twitching with the slightest hint of satisfaction as he sat down. “It was about time you took a break. I thought I would remind you not to push yourself too far by bringing you something to relax with. Do drink up; I brewed it myself with prized leaves.”

Kaeya’s all about staying a step ahead of the game, and the moment fluffy cat ears and a tail sprout up on his body, there’s a good chance that he’s already found loads of ways to capitalize on his features to get what he wants. The best way to get information from anyone is to get them to let their guard down, and it’s hard to be intimidated by someone who looks like a stuffed animal.

Which is exactly what he does. There’s a good chance that Kaeya’s been observing you for a while, for whatever reasons he might have (be it personal or for the Knights of Favonius), so he’ll definitely use his cat features to his advantage. He’ll snuggle up to you and let you relax by teasing you with his tail and his ears, and he’ll let his silvery tongue do the rest as he extracts bits and pieces of information from you like he was extracting honey from a beehive.

Kaeya rocks the whole maid concept better than anyone else. Flexibility and adaptability are just a few of his many strong suits, and he might even go along with playing pretend with you just out of the goodwill of his heart. He’s extorted you already for loads of intel, so the least he can do to get you to keep staying so lax around him is to humor you just a bit. It’s also a good chance to see you smiling and laughing as you bury your head into his hair, and it sure doesn’t hurt to hear you gush over how much of a majestic catboy he is.

You felt his fluffy tail slink against your arms, Kaeya splayed out across your lap with the most smug smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Awwww, your tail is so cute! I wish I could just hold it and fall asleep! It feels just like a cloud!”

“Does it now, Master?” Kaeya purred, batting his eyeslashes. It had only been about fifteen minutes since he barged into your room to show off his cat features, and he had already gotten enough info about you to entertain him for weeks. “You can pet me more, if you’d like.”

You lit up, completely oblivious to the fact that Kaeya had you wrapped around his little finger. You were far too innocent, too careless even, and Kaeya found it amusing. “Oh, Kaeya! You’re the best!”

Diluc’s also fairly annoyed by this mess, but he isn’t one to viciously fight against what’s already happened. It is rather irritating to have to put all of his responsibilities aside for another day, but he’s capable businessman who’s used to having to adapt to all sorts of situations. Being turned into the catmaid is by far not the worst of his problems, but it’s enough of a change to actually make him think about how he presents himself not only to you but the people of Mondstadt as well.

He has maids around his winery, so he mimics his ow behavior with what he wants of them. Of course, you don’t make him cook or clean or anything like that, and similarly to Zhongli, he makes sure to treat you with respect as long as you do the same. Diluc’s a very pragmatic man, and he simply takes his duty as a maid to keep you out of trouble, accompanying you whenever you need to head out to protect you from stray monsters or helping you with any finances that you might have to sort out.

His only request is that he doesn’t let anyone outside of his immediate circle know about his current affliction. The last thing he needs is his reputation as a respectable tycoon tarnished, and he sure as hell doesn’t need Kaeya strolling around to mess with him. If it incentivizes you to keep the whole temporary catmaid thing under wraps, he’ll tell you that it can be a little secret between the two of you. It’s best that you give him your word, lest you end up on the wrong side of his stoic mannerisms.

“Good work today,” you remarked, offering up a meek smile to the Dawn Winery owner. “It must have been a lot of work. You know, having to deal with the whole transformation thing while running a business.”

Diluc glanced momentarily you, his ears pressing against his head. You wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance or shyness, but you decided that it was the latter, as Diluc hadn’t walked away from you just yet. “It’s fine. Albedo said it should wear off any day now.”

“Mmm. But still, if you ever need help from me, let me know, okay? I know I’m your ‘master’ temporarily, but we’re still friends,” You laughed. The corners of Diluc’s mouth twitched as he turned away.

“Goodnight then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #xiao #scaramouche #zhongli #kaeya #diluc #g/n reader #serving the macaroni

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maybe-homestuck-now-or-something · 3 years

Text

I really wanna talk about homestuck in relation to this post but like, idk if I wanna add to it because it might be a total derailment of the topic but homestuck is such a weird apocalypse narrative.

like... the way it handles it is so odd because earth itself is not very well characterized before the characters leave it. the characters themselves are massively well characterized, and that takes up the bulk of the narrative, but like... we never even hear them talk about school? or much of anything more than their shared interests and what's immediately happening to them. and in a way, that is kind of authentic. because when kids get together to hang out, the last thing they ever wanna talk about is dry, boring stuff about their mundane lives. they'll mostly just yell memes at each other, talk about anime, play video games... it's possible to simultaneously know nothing about your friends, but feel closer to them than ever, because you're mostly around for the parts of their life that they want to experience when they're having the most fun. you see them as they are when they have the most agency to choose that. and that might be totally divorced from the reality of how their day-to-day life unfolds.

in this way, homestuck presents these characters as people who have shed that mundane portion of their lives. they are now left with only the part that they typically share with their friends. and in reality, if a SBURB type apocalypse were to literally happen to you, it'd be traumatic as hell. but this is the place where homestuck chooses to ask you to suspend your disbelief. let's just believe that John didn't have any other friends or family to think about when the world ended. let's pretend they left zero people of any interest whatsoever behind. all they are shaking off is the society that they were obligated to participate in so mundanely. they no longer have to make any compromises with anyone... they get to fully center themselves.

okay, so that's obviously not entirely true... playing SBURB is a cooperative experience, and being friends with someone doesn't always mean that your relationship is easy. but homestuck allows the narrative to become self centered. it's about one individual and the tiny sphere of influence they have, among solely the people they've developed meaningful bonds with. it allows them to become a case study.

so when the world ends, the world is not necessarily what matters. what matters is the identities of a few specific individuals who we spend a lot of time cultivating our own connections with as a reader.

and that all becomes incredibly interesting when you consider classes and aspects.

basically, in terms of the post linked above, classes and aspects are the harry potter houses, the factions, the "what bender are you" or MBTI type... they're not the only way you could categorize the characters, but they're the most universally applicable to all of the characters that are important in the narrative. and what's interesting is just like... what classes are for, and how complicated it actually is to know what aspects are, or what they mean.

starting with classes, these are basically a series of archetypes that are specialized so that everyone has a role to play that makes them uniquely valuable to a collective. if we're considering this in terms of DnD, you can think of what classes might make for a balanced party, and how having a balanced party makes it satisfying to play the game. no one player could handle everything on their own, and at the same time, everyone feels needed. nobody is useless.

this already seems fundamentally different from some of the means of categorization that I listed above. a lot of these systems are meant to divvy up the characters into societally recognized in-groups and out-groups... people who can be identified as allies or enemies. even if the groups are ascribed certain archetypal skills, the goal is rarely so explicitly for the archetypes to work together, or cover each other's weaknesses. Avatar is probably what comes the closest to this idea, with its underlying endeavor to find harmony between the elements, but homestuck uses classes both as a way to communicate unique specialization, and as a way to unify the characters by their need for support.

and that's a little weird isn't it? these characters just shed all of their obligations to a broader society, and we're taking that as a freeing event... right? but there is a difference between society and community, and while homestuck might use the destruction of society as a catalyst for adventure, it uses the formation of community as the driving force behind the story's progression. the characters are all motivated to work together and help each other... and that doesn't always mean that it works. even within a community, one person's drive to center themselves and their own personal growth can trample others who were trying to do the same thing. perhaps not everyone in the community consents to being cooperative. perhaps the difference in archetype could drive someone to become competitive instead. and these are all value-neutral observations... no archetype is specifically acknowledged as being evil, even when they have friction with one another.

basically... this is character writing. and I find it funny that these broad categories that kids like to identify themselves with are seen as ways of flattening characterization into broad strokes like "the brave one" or "the sneaky one" or what have you, because in the case of classes, the characterization becomes deeper. and I think that's because the categories are used well... the characters all have specific relationships with the stereotypes they're ascribed by others, and the archetypes they're told they must fulfill. the classes don't define them, but they do give them something to contend with. can they fulfill their role? can they live up to their purpose? is there a place in the story for someone with an archetype like theirs? do they want to be this?

aspects get even trickier, and for this I might just link to a video I really love that covers a lot of the thoughts I've been having. it's kind of front loaded with a lot of technical talk about computer science and philosophy, and tbh I love that homestuck does actually link up those concepts with so much of it's presentation, but the main bit that intrigues me is the way the video talks about aspects as irreducible components of thought. like the periodic table of elements, but for ideas.

this drastically elevates the importance of each character's assigned category, and makes it function so much better as a tool for characterization. because, like, the aspects are actually really abstract. when someone says their aspect is "wind" or "light" you could take that 100% literally if you wanted to... but by the time you've read enough of homestuck to connect those to John and Rose, you probably understand that it's not that simple. and other concepts, such as astrology, have taught you that this is the sort of system that you're supposed to interpret, right? what is a capricorn if not a loose collection of traits that give you a certain vibe? that's what we're working with when it comes to aspects. otherwise, how would you know what void, or doom, or mind are? tbh it's actually pretty genius that astrology was worked into the comic as an aesthetic element, just so we'd all be mentally primed to do this kind of categorical interpretation... hell, even the actual signs themselves constitute a framework with which you could analyze the characters, like, how does Nepeta display typical leo traits, or how is Vriska a stereotypical scorpio... it all still works, even as you understand that each individual is more complex than the traits which support that interpretation.

in this way, the aspects are never really explained exhaustively verbatim, and are almost solely defined by the traits you've observed from individual characters, who act as representatives for what these categories actually are. or at least how they function in this instance, which is what's relevant. it's not just superpowers, and it's not just archetypes... it's both at the same time, and you come at them from a character-first perspective when you're trying to figure out what they mean. the characters inform your knowledge of the categories, and the categories act as a framework for analyzing the characters. and I love how homestuck tricks you into assuming that it has a lot of little rigid categories for the characters to slot into, and how quickly it becomes apparent that everything is way more abstract than it first appears. and yet, it all still means something. and it's really interesting to, say, compare two different time players to try to piece together what is typical for that archetype, while also accounting for their class, and trying to understand how that changes the roles they play and the ways they behave. and then you have the trolls' caste system on top of that, and the astrology angle I mentioned earlier, and there are honestly so many overlapping ways to think about it all, and I think that's the point.

#homestuck #classpect #my rant

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Day 26, Post #1 by @cheesyficwriter

Title: The Greatest Chapter

Author: cheesyficwriter

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Prompt: Moving in together

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: None

Prompt: Moving in together

The Greatest Chapter

At age 10, I had the most embarrassing schoolgirl crush on Harry Potter. I'd see him and run in the opposite direction, painting the perfect image of me as a young girl who lacked the confidence needed to formulate words — any words — around someone I liked.

Before getting to know Harry for who he really was, I was so infatuated with the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived. I wanted so desperately to be going to Hogwarts with Ron before I was old enough, knowing that Harry Potter would be there too.

The way Harry took on a basilisk to save my life during my first year did nothing but solidify my growing feelings for him. My crush never really went away but instead transformed into a casual friendship based upon our shared experience in the Chamber of Secrets, a friendship that I was willing to accept at the time because I just wanted to be around him.

As we grew up, I started to relax more in his presence. We gained a mutual respect for one another, exchanging laughs in the Great Hall and sharing in-jokes during Christmases at the Burrow. Those little moments, in between all of the chaos and turmoil of what used to be, helped me learn a few things about Harry that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise — not even on the front page of The Daily Prophet.

When I was younger, I admired Harry because I was under the impression that he possessed traits that I didn’t. I never imagined that I could be as brave, or courageous, or charismatic as he was to me. What surprised me the most about our developing friendship at Hogwarts was that there were far more similarities between us than differences. We shared the same wicked sense of humor — that I like to say I inherited from my plethora of brothers — yet could still hold my own during quick-witted battles, and I often found myself looking at Harry whenever something made me laugh, just to see if he was laughing, too. My stomach always spiraled when, more often than not, I found him looking back at me. We used our shared humor to our advantage, and I was thankful for that small respite in the midst of so much darkness.

We shared the same values, both of us realizing the importance of family, friends, and love above everything else. It’s what we fought for every day, even when it seemed like we were too young to really know what love was.

As our friendship continued, my romantic feelings for Harry were buried deep down in a place where I was once convinced they would stay. I decided to throw all of my energy into school, developing my skills as a witch, thus growing the confidence I needed along the way to put myself out there with other, more available boys.

For years, we were caught up in our own lives, and it shocked me more than anyone to have captured Harry’s attention when I least expected it. From the first moment he kissed me, I never hesitated. All of those feelings I had attempted to bury came rushing back to the surface, like revealing a galleon that I had stashed at the bottom of my trunk.

I will never forget those few stolen weeks we had together when I was 15 and he was 16. He described it as something out of someone else’s life, and at the time, I had thought that was all we would ever be. Time was fleeting, and there wasn’t enough of it.

Harry had no choice but to dedicate his life to fighting for the wizarding world, and I was always determined to be right there beside him, up until the point where I couldn’t. I was smart enough to understand why he didn’t ask me to come with him. It was his mission. His, Ron’s, and Hermione’s. I didn’t often miss the times the three of them carried on by themselves, engaging in secret conversation and disappearing without the faintest clue of their whereabouts until much later.

On that fateful day that Harry broke things off, I already knew what he was so desperately trying to convey to me. If I were to have accompanied him on the Horcrux hunt, it would’ve been me he was worried about instead of finding the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that were crucial to defeating him.

That notion — although tragic in a sense — gave me more pleasure than the feeling of scoring an impossible goal during a Quidditch match.

Regardless, Harry was never far from my mind those long months that he was gone. My childhood crush seemed silly at that point because I had gained so much more than a fleeting romance.

As time passed, and Harry and I found our way back to each other after Voldemort's defeat, it took us a minute to catch our bearings and resume our relationship that we had put on an indefinite pause.

It hadn’t always been easy dating him. In fact, dealing with the fame that Harry carried around with him from being a war hero had been a lot harder than I ever anticipated. But it was always unspoken that we managed, despite what any publishings had to say about us.

I came to love him, not for being Harry Potter, but for who he truly was. His heart. His courage.

As I stood reflecting on my relationship with Harry in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, I was overcome with emotion. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was the one we were destined to have, and that made every hardship worth it.

The room housed a large window overlooking the street, a charming — albeit dusty — fireplace, and ornate fixtures. For a person who just moved in, I felt like the house itself could have been in worse shape. Harry did an exceptional job keeping the place organized, especially for someone who, up until just a few days ago, lived there by himself.

That’s not to say I hadn’t already spent plenty of nights at Grimmauld Place over the last couple of years. In fact, I probably spent more nights there than I did at the Burrow once I returned home from my final year at Hogwarts.

It was during those nights that I discovered just a fraction of the pain Harry went through. He’d always been intensely emotional, and so many nights I spent shaking him from his residual nightmares of the trauma he went through, despite the wizarding world being in a much better place. I comforted him the best I could in those moments, determined to make it clear to him that I’m never letting go — not this time.

I smiled to myself as I took a seat on the piano bench, observing the peeling paint from one of the large, cracked walls. We had a lot of work to do, but moving in together was a proper next step for us.

"Gin? Are you home?" Harry’s voice carried through the dusty walls.

Before I could respond, Harry was already standing in the open archway, head tilted to the side with curiosity etched across his face. “Were you just staring at a blank wall?”

I crossed my arms, determined not to let him know about my extensive reflection into our past. “So what if I was, Potter?”

He looked as if he wanted to question my retort further but instead joined me at the piano, bumping his shoulder with mine.

“It’s a lot of fun coming home to you,” he admitted, the rich, melodic sound of the piano filling the open space from his fingertips pressing against one of the keys.

“You know that’s practically how we were before, right? When was the last time we spent a night apart?”

Harry shrugged, and it was clear he never really thought about it. “Dunno, but it was one night too many, I reckon.”

I sighed, wanting to ask a question that had been weighing on my heart. “Do you find it odd that we’ve never really argued? I mean, even when you broke up with me-”

“Why must we go back to that?” Harry interrupted, a pained look crossing his face.

I gave him a playful pat on the arm. I wanted our past to be something positive we could look back on and didn’t fancy dwelling on the shit times.

“Shush. I’m just saying, even though it hurt a lot to not know where you were for almost a year, I always understood your decision. You had to go.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, clearly still trying to work out the point of the conversation. “Where are you going with this?”

“I just-I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I rubbed my temple to ease my stressed-out mind. “I’m actually worried that we will never fight.”

“Oh, we’ll fight.”

I turned towards Harry, who was too busy fiddling with the piano keys to even look at me. He responded straight away, like he didn’t even have to think about it. “How can you be so certain?”

Harry snorted. “I’ve witnessed you get all hot-headed when you disagree with other people.” He sent me a dazzling grin, reaching out to trail his fingers through my stray ginger strands that hung loose from my ponytail. “You’ve got that fiery red hair. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Hey!”

“In fact,” Harry smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I think you’re the most problematic person I know, Ginevra.”

Harry yelped when I pinched his forearm. “You prat.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. “In all seriousness, though, we’re going to be fine.”

I stared at him in awe but leaned into him. “You are so sure of yourself.”

He grabbed my shoulders, pivoting our bodies so that we were facing each other on the bench. “You wanna know how sure I am?”

Before I could respond or even react, he kissed me full on the mouth. He growled as our kiss intensified, and all at once, our positions shifted as I felt a sharp pain in my back from my body making contact with the piano keys with a resounding trill. I was left dizzy and breathless, snogging Harry as a wave of happiness resonated through me.

When he pulled away, his fierce emerald eyes locked on mine set my mind ablaze. “Does that answer your question?”

I decided his question didn’t require a verbal response, so I simply attached my hand to the nape of his neck before dragging his face back to mine. We didn’t talk much for a while after that.

I knew, perhaps more than anyone else, how much Harry desired moving forward from the past. I’m ready, too, to start the greatest chapter of our lives.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #hinny #harry x ginny

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