#but ive never seen any acknowledgement of the punishment or the fact it was a bad thing at all from anyone

[abnomi]

i really appreciate bojack horseman for having characters that feel so human.

they feel real, people you could encounter just passing by on a sidewalk. theyre flawed but human with feelings and intentions and desires and opinions! i think its so interesting to see them clash together in their daily lives. they are all multidimensional and have more lingering under the surface than at first glance, and they keep peeling back as the show goes forward, whether the layers are ugly or beautiful. i love learning about them.

this show is So Real. you can point at any major scenario in the episodes and think "That could have happened to me or someone i know" while in the same breath, the most absurd shit imaginable happens in the background inside of this universe with such flawed logic (that is kind of just a caricature of real life). even the people are exaggerated, and the ways they react and speak is very blunt and straightforward. its interesting to see how they all adapt and live in this ridiculous world while still feeling like actual people, even with them speaking in exaggerated ways. i think that the writing in bojack horseman is genius, i dont know if ive seen anything like it anywhere else. the reality being maintained even through the exaggeration is amazing to me, and the fact that theres still enough space left to make serious scenes hit hard and make you KNOW something fucked up happened.

bojack himself being a mentally tormented individual is never used as an excuse for his actions and I really admire and respect that. you can empathize with him while still acknowledging that hes a fucked up person (Horse) . its such a wake up call, too. noticing how his behavior affects other people encourages the viewer to improve but still shows the underlying mental illness in a sensitive light. he isolates himself and punishes himself and it does nothing but make everything worse. the severity of the people in his life's reactions put him further in this pit of self-hatred and loathing when all he needs to do is change for the better. the world crumbles around him, and instead of changing or listening, he tries to make himself feel better and escape it. "fetishizing your own sadness" is a line that really struck me because i was severely depressed and i did that exact thing; i made myself feel horrible because i "deserved" it to compensate for the guilt i felt instead of doing anything productive to get out of the spiral. im not saying that any of this is easy, its so fucking hard. but bojack had resources on SO many occasions and NEVER accepted help. also, seeing Todd of all people reach a breaking point is a Lot. hes such a forgiving person who sees the good in everyone and he still has limits.

the philosophy and messages conveyed through the characters are so important to me. especially with Diane, shes such a complex character. i love her quote of there being no good or bad people, theres only people who do good things and people who do bad things. she is the realest.

so much thought was put into every crevice of this show, everything that was explored was understood by the writers and this was communicated incredibly well. i would say more but im kind of squeezing my mind juices and im low on them rn. I FUCKING LOVE BOJACK HORSEMAN !!!!!!!

[krispiecake]

hiii tell me about your show pls!!!

1) i love you. we should kiss

2) before i get into this because im #scared ppl will make fun of me, I’m aware that my show is a teen drama and deserves criticism in some areas, i am actually very interested in having long conversations about this criticism bc i think that its genuinely interesting and i have a lot of thoughts about how some themes such as (and especially) class could/should be handled going forward in the final season. However, i also think that it is a very well made show and also very well written (99% of the time lol) and explores very interesting lgbt+ themes and is the first show in a while that ive seen that portrays first/new/young lgbt relationships really well. That is my disclaimer.

3) so. its called young royals on netflix. and its my favourite thing in the entire world. Its a swedish show centred around the prince of Sweden, Wilhelm (diagnosed autistic by me. bc i said so.) Key facts about him are: anxiety disorder, lame, sometimes I wish i could smack him upside the head but with love. Wilhelm is sent to a private boarding school after getting into a very public fight in order to punish/straighten him out (pun intended). At this boarding school we are introduced to Simon (my fave character), who is a non boarder/scholarship student along with his sister. When we meet Simon for the first time its when he is singing a solo in the choir for the prince’s welcome ceremony/celebration thing. During this, Wilhelm basically um. falls in love. Well maybe not love but the boy is down BAD and it’s embarrassing for him. Key facts about Simon: i love him, has never done anything wrong ever, I love him. While Simon’s main ‘role’ as it were is love interest, I believe that the show does a fairly good job and creating depth for him as a character, providing a lot of context and information about him as an individual and as part of a relationship. He has his own plot lines and scenes completely separate to Wilhelm. HOWEVER I would also like this to be explored further in the 3rd season, and I hope we see a more emotional side to him too, because while we do see him express both positive and negative emotions, I still feel like he holds the especially negative ones back and away from other characters like Wilhelm - which is in character, however I personally would like to. see him cry or something idk because he deserves a breakdown. like a proper one with shouting and throwing things.

ANYWAY. We get to see their relationship grow over the episodes and honestly there is a little bit of flip flopping from Wilhelm, bc while Simon is confident in his sexuality, its implied that this is the first time Wilhelm has ever really acknowledged his attraction to the same gender, meaning we watch him learn how to (sort of) accept himself and be comfortable in liking Simon. PERSONALLY I think the way this is portrayed is quite authentic and at least somewhat similar to my own experience in coming to terms with being a lesbian specifically (although i never rlly got to kiss any girls about it so. that sucks). I think a really good example of this is their first kiss scene at the end of s1 ep 2, where we see Wilhelm making the first move when he initiates handholding (im aware of how juvenile the sentence sounds i just couldnt think of another way to put it lol) as they are watching a movie (its movie night so the two main dorms are all present, Forest Ridge (boys) and Manor House (girls). They have a cute little handholding moment until Wilhelm becomes flustered/anxious over people noticing and runs out of the room. Simon follows after a moment and this is when we get the first kiss. Simon is the one to initiate it the first two times and Wilhelm just kind of 🧍. He’s not good at this yet okay. After the second kiss, shocked back to reality by a noise from the movie down the hall, Wilhelm starts with ‘I’m sorry I’m not-‘ and Simon starts to leave, obviously sensing rejection. However, rejection does not come because Wilhelm grabs his arm and pulls him back. He’s clearly very anxious about the whole situation and running through his head is what I assume to be a million different thoughts of ‘am i allowed to want this? is this okay? do i want this? what will my mother say? this would be national news. What would my brother say? am i allowed? i dont think this is allowed.’ Simon does not say anything, allowing Wilhelm to take the time he needs to organise a coherent thought. And despite his anxiety, despite every thought in his head, he pulls Simon closer by his shirt and this time, Wilhelm is the one that kisses him.

I like this scene bc 1) its cute, like rlly cute 2) as I said i think this is a good example of the whole ‘coming to terms with it’ aspect because I remember that anxiety, I remember those ‘what would my mother think?’ thoughts and most importantly, I remember my lesbianism (or in Wilhelm’s case, his queerness and attraction to Simon) winning. I remember the way that once it popped into my head that ‘hey, you might be a lesbian’ it literally never left until i sat up one day and confronted it. And I think that this is a really sweet and probably true to life for some people way of showing this on screen.

Now. I actually have so much more to say about this show Like i could talk/type for HOURS. about it but I won’t. Know that there are so many details about this show and the casting choices and the writing and directing and acting choices that i am OBSESSED with throughout BOTH seasons. All that i typed literally only got us through 2 episodes and i didnt even talk about the other important bits. I really cannot over emphasise enough how much there is to this show. Anyway, I’m gonna leave it there though, but feel free to ask questions/for my opinion on any aspect of it. I will say if you havent watched it and somehow this has convinced you to do so, there are a few triggering subjects such as drug + alcohol addiction/misuse, death and grief, and MASSIVELY child exploitation material from season 1 ep 4 onwards - this is because a, if not THE, major plot point/conflict in the show is that a ‘sex tape’ (as it’s referred to sometimes) is filmed of Wilhelm and Simon (both 16yrs old in the show) without their knowledge or consent, and is then leaked to the public. I have some personal grievances about how this is handled in the show, however, I also dont think its handled ‘badly’, as the way the characters handle it is part of the plot and is ultimately part of what the show is criticising. If you want me to explain this further I can do as well, as i know this subject can obviously be very triggering and its best to know what youre getting into to decide if this show is right for you.

[ravenkinnie]

TW: Drugs, substance abuse, murder, violence, the Punisher

Another potentially unpopular opinion I've seen on here (and one that I'll actually rant about) is that, Jason is the only good vigilante in the Batfam because he kills people (think the direct quote is "unlike those other feckless bitches" and something like "when you get saved by Red Hood, you know that you'll never have to worry about getting attacked by the same person again". I don't know how to explain to people that killing the type of criminals Jason killed in canon is wrong and harmful (thinking about the 80 Blackgate prisoners he poisoned - hmm you know the American prison system is pretty fucked up i'm sure they all totally belonged there /s). Like. Jason killing the Joker is one thing, but he literally hasn't killed the Joker - Dick did that, Bruce tried to, but Jason hasn't. But like some people make it out like oh, Jason being a killer is fine because he only kills people that deserve it - who, tell me who he's killing? Sex offenders and drug dealers seems to be the most common reply. And I won't touch the sex offenders but drug dealers? Have you heard of the War on Drugs? Have you seen what happens when people in power decide it's okay to openly promote the killing of drug dealers? I don't understand why people think it's fine for Jason Todd to go around killing drug dealers, as if they don't have families, don't have other things that put them in a bad situation. There's a reason why cops in the US (idk if they do this elsewhere) use the Punisher skull as their emblem - and if you advocate for a Jason Todd that punishes criminals, don't be surprised when the right wing weaponizes him against minorities and the red hood helmet starts to get painted on cop cars.

I wrote a paper on the Norwegian prison system which rehabilitates and releases even the "worst" of criminals and just... I live in the US and it seems like we (specifically white people) have such little compassion for anyone who commits crime. Even after the War on Drugs, even after we learned it was a scam, people fall for the crime and punishment rhetoric time after time. Like I live in a suburb where people are so scared of drug dealers my mom literally called our neighbor because someone cut through our yard (and she thought he looked high or something idk). Which I get it, my cousin died from a fentanyl overdose, I understand you don't want that near your kids. But incarcerating or killing drug dealers is not the answer, and I can't stand it when people take that stance on Jason. You can try to explain the 8 drug dealer heads in a duffle bag any way you want, but at the end of the day, I think the batfamily fandom needs to be more careful addressing this issue because demonizing drugs/drug dealers/drug users is literally one of the ways the American government destroys black communities.

And to think, the Jason Todd stan that this opinion came from replied to me because I commented on how Jason likes to run around in Dick's old clothes - something that has absolutely no bearing on his morals, other than he's thrifty which is a good thing actually, something like 85% of clothes ends up in landfills. Sorry for the rant, you asked for it. Sorry if anyone who sees this likes Jason Todd and is offended, you're not bad for liking him, he has an interesting story, just please don't advocate for murdering common criminals, specifically drug dealers.

AAAHHH NOO BUT IVE SEEN SOME OF MY MOOTS DISCUSS THIS BEFORE

sorry it's late and fucking hot I don't have the most comprehensive reply dbdnhd and I do acknowledge that at the end of the day this is fiction but opinions real people hold come from SOMEWHERE - and I think we have a very ingrained belief that crime/bad deed has to be punished and that there are good and evil people and good people only do bad things when influenced by evil people which is exactly the core of jason's belief - and that's interesting for a batfam character, a former robin!! I like when him and bruce are contrasted based on ethics but I don't like when it's meant to show that jason is right and bruce is wrong

batman is an extremely popular and fascinating character because at his core lies the idea that systems that are in place to 'protect' people are corrupt and it's down to individuals who can do something to go against them and look out for others - that's something that will resonate with people even if irl solution can't be to dress up as a bat and beat tf outta people shdhhshs

I have two points to make here:

a) I'm straight up a fucking anarchist who lives in the woods, thinks aliens are listening, and doesn't trust the government but I don't believe systems are corrupt, I believe they operate the way they are meant to operate to punish and control the populations that the system needs to be controlled to keep up the status quo - war on drugs is such a good example for that. drug dealer also exists as this boogeyman, this idea of an evil person waiting to corrupt and destroy the good people but the fact is: people don't get addicted to drugs bc drug dealers exist, people get addicted to drugs because something, not someone, compels them to do drugs, because something (literal us gov) introduced drugs to their communities and drug dealers are just tiny pawns in that game. additionally, many dealers are addicts themselves who got roped into selling to pay for their own use or who got pushed into the margins of society so much that drug trade is the only way to survive they can find

there are like, whole papers and books and thesis done on this so I'm not gonna act like I can analyse it in a tumblr post dhshsjsj but yeah people who think jason is right usually show this weird superiority of 'oh batman doesnt get how to fix gotham like jason does' and like... no, jason gets played like a fiddle by the system the way people he kills do, and whatever he does will always just hit the other pawns and never reach those actually at the top, those who are profitting from finding scapegoats

and like, batman comics don't have to address that bc it's comics, you can write small lmao but don't argue that jason is somehow more enlightened than bruce for killing

b) this brings a question of, if we decide that there has to be punishment for every crime, who gets to decide what punishment is right for what crime? cause there's not a single person who's infallible enough to dictate what the best approach is in every situation

and batman works best as a traumatised man who's loves his city sm he tries to work however he can to protect people from corrupt systems and offer them second chances wherever he can bc that's who batman is at his core - batman is not a punisher he is a protector and he should never be pushed into a role of the punisher bc he's not edgy enough

also bitches are so hard acting like they would kill every villain cause rip to batman but I'm different, y'all are too scared to tell the waitress your order is wrong shut the fuck up lmao the closest any of y'all have been to being batman is getting your ass beat behind the club on a saturday by brenda in her boohoo jumpsuit

[omegawolverine]

I love it when people talk about things they're passionate about, tell me something cool!! Anything you want, just something you find interesting or want to talk about :D

hello anon my beloved, I am in a bad mood so you will be receiving a passionate, yet lowkey of pissy rant about why villainizing bakugou makes me wanna vomit and its NOT just because I'm a dumbass kinnie :)

tws: child abuse (emotional and physical), near death expierences, bullying, kidnapping, suffocation, lots of trauma in general tbh. if you've seen bnha then basically just keep all the general triggering plot stuff in mind incase i missed any warnings

also, note: I havent caught up on bnha in a minute, I'm at like the start of the war arc but I barely remember shit there tbh so like. probs missing new stuff. also bnha spoiler warnings lol

so, for starters, the homie bakugou has like,, a good handful of issues that come from his childhood that explain why he's an ass. he was always praised and never actually reprimanded for being a twat which led to him having a huge ego that ended up fucking him over majorly. this ego was something that his mother acknowledged him having, but literally didnt try to fix it with anything other than violence. see here:

like, instead of trying to help him, she hits and insults him, which is probably what led to his weird inferiority/superiority complex. being constantly told by others that you're outstanding and one day you'll be a top hero because you're rude and aggressive and then going home and being hit by your mother for those exact same behaviors is bound to fucking confuse a child.

so like, now that we've established that its definetly canon that his mother (parents? I think he said parents at some point but masaru doesn't seem like the type so 🤷) hits him though we don't know how much or how often (though if bakugou was as much of a little shit back then ((which as far as we've seen- he was)) then it was probably often), lets talk about how regardless of all that 1) hitting your kids as "discipline" not only doesn't work but is abusive lol like idc if it's spanking/popping them on the mouth for talking shit, slapping them across the face "on occasion", etc. shits not okay 2) hitting your kids!!!! does not work!!!!!!!! it is literally PROVEN not to work!!!!!!!! hitting a child who has done something wrong doesnt teach them to stop doing something it teaches them to be scared of you, which will cause the child to withdraw, removing part of their support system (assuming said abusive parents would even offer that up) and will most likely lead to them thinking they're a bad person, not that their actions were bad, which are two different things. so, ya know, that would clearly have an effect on a kid. like, as someone with a mother who reminds me all too much of mitsuki: I have acted like a complete shitbag and taken my anger out on people to feel better in the past because of the way my mother treated me. though it was nowhere near what bakugou did, I still know first fucking hand what a mother hitting and insulting her child will do, especially if they have no proper outlet for that (friends, a safe place to vent) which bakugou never fucking had.

theres also the fact that just talking to your kid the way mitsuki does (saying it's his fault he was kidnapped because he's weak, all while hitting him) is not??? okay?????? ive seen people arguing that this was just a joke in poor taste but like her son was KIDNAPPED and even if it was a "joke" there's literally NO WAY that would EVER?? BE FUNNY??????? she just sounds like the kind of parent who at the very least says shit without thinking that would traumatize bakugou (because being told right after being kidnapped it's your fucking fault by your mother is absolutely traumatizing) but it comes across as her being emotionally abusive.

mitsukis character as a whole comes across as a shitty mom who doesn't realize she's a shitty mom and thinks bakugou being an ass isn't at least partially her fault even though she's admitted to realizing he has always had an ego problem and doing nothing to fix it except for hitting and yelling which obviously did nothing but make him just as loud and violent as she is.

this is obviously not the entire reason why he's a dick but he was never properly taught that the shit he was doing wasn't okay and people not stopping it and/or praising him endlessly even tho he was a bully is basically the same as encouraging it, thank you very much.

moving on from that, let's talk about bakugous other traumas and how he naturally responds to them. hint: it's with either full blown panic or a fight response (verbal or physical, though usually physical. also sometimes it's the panic followed by the fight response.)

so far in bnha (keep in mind that I am not caught up, I've only read up to the beginning of the war arc and i barely remember those bits so) bakugou has...

nearly died via sludge villain (he was unable to move and was being suffocated to death- keep this in mind)

lost for the first time ever and against deku of all people (this nearly sent him into a full blown panic attack, likely because of that sexy little inferiority/superiority complex combo. think of this as like. gifted kid burnout lite. he has always been the best of the best and now suddenly he is being beaten by somebody who has always been weaker than him, which immediately makes him start thinking he was never actually that good, he's actually a fucking failure, a goddamn fraud)

won the sports festival by default (bakugou counts this as yet another failure because todoroki didnt try his best. had bakugou lost to todoroki full strength, he would've taken 2nd place with a bit of bitching, but he still wouldve taken it rather than refuse the medal as it would be a reminder that he failed. instead of accepting that like UA shouldve, the staff chained and muzzled him on live television and then had all might, his fucking idol, force the medal into his mouth. remember the sludge villain incident and how he couldnt move and was suffocating to death? yeah.)

been kidnapped because of the way he reacted to winning during the sports festival (he was aggressive and tried to refuse the medal because he felt he didnt deserve it and was then retraumatized by being chained up and muzzled. his "villainous attitude" was a fucking trauma response, do not tell me otherwise)

was then chained up once again by the LOV after being kidnapped,,, do we see the "retraumatize bkg" theme yet?

"ended all might" (he literally blames himself for all mights retirement because had he just not have been weak, all might wouldve had more time, right?)

my point with all of these is that bakugou has been severely traumatized and has then had his trauma responses (aggression, fight) used to further demonize him. not all people with trauma react the fucking same and the way the fandom just refuses to acknowledge anger as a valid form of trauma response is gross as hell.

moving away from that topic, bakugou has literally never had any actual friends, they all just used him and didn't care about him which absolutely will fuck up a kid, especially one who already has all that other shit going on. bakugou deadass never had a support system or people to help him grow as a person, let alone properly work through his fucking emotions so it's not surprising that he would take out his bullshit on the one person who tried to help him especially considering he saw dekus actions as him thinking he was weak. bakugou was raised to not seek help, he thought somebody strong shouldnt ever need it, so for somebody like deku (who bakugou percieved as weak and helpless already) to offer up help? deku must obviously think bakugou is even weaker than him, what other explanation could their possibly be!

speaking of which, there's his heaps of insecurities that he basically hid by being a twat and bullying others for most of his life. kid was so insecure he bullied deku for fucking years cause he thought deku looked down on him, thought he was better than him, etc. and that only got worse bc his idol then decided to take deku in, train him and even give him his quirk. there's probably some shit im missing but still he's got issues and always has had issues. that being said, he's actually improving and working them out now which is what makes him a really good, interesting character. it's also nice to see a character who is a dick without some tragic backstory (like his backstory is sad but its not the classic "my family was fucking slaughtered and i turned into a raging bitch who murders people" type shit) bc that rarely happens and it's like most assholes don't actually have a story like that they're just assholes lol

now lets talk improvement! lil bitch has been getting better since he got into UA and im so happy abt it!! he had a rough start what with deku suddenly having a quirk and all but like he is really improving now and it highkey shows that bakugou just mostly needed people who 1) didn't constantly praise him and actually criticized him instead 2) actually fucking punished him doing stupid shit and 3) some motherfucking friends

Since going to UA he's gotten actually feedback from teachers about his weaknesses and how to get stronger, he's lost against others, hes been told he has a shit attitude and is a dick, told he should be nicer and leave deku alone, etc etc. He hasn't gotten in trouble too much with teachers but others give him shit for what he does and aizawa has punished him too, while still acknowledging that bakugou is an amazing and dedicated student, something which no one else had done up til that point. and uh???? homie actually has friends who like,,, don't use him and also call him out when he's a dick. like specifically kirishima has done this shit and him and bakugous relationship is clearly very healthy and beneficial for the both of them. makes me feel all happy n shit, ya know

bottom line is: while it is absolutely valid to dislike or even hate bakugou because he is a massively flawed person who has been very cruel to others, villainizing him for the way he acts which in large part seems to be from a lack of guidance, a shitty mother and heavy amounts of trauma, is fucking awful. his actions cannot be fucking excused, he needs to apologize and continue to grow, but he is also a fucking teenager, who is just now being told that the way he acts is unacceptable by people who dont fucking abuse him (and I swear to god if any people who think mitsuki isnt abusive interact with this fucking post I will fullstop hardblock you, I do not fucking care) and actually treat him like a normal person instead of some prodigy child or someone who needs to be fixed.

people are free to debate my points or whatever bc I know some of this stuff is up to interpretation but like. dni if you're just here to say you hate bakugou for xyz reason or that he's irredeemable. also especially dni if you compare him to fucking endeavor yall bitches make me gag.

anyways thxs for the ask anon <33 sorry this is a kinda messy info dump lol

[divinestrike]

what are your thoughts exactly to how van zieks' racism was handled in dgs? i've seen people still adore him nonetheless of it lol (which is... yikes imo)

OHHHHHHH so so many thoughts but not enough coherent words.... it's so complex because i personally really like him but also. don't like him at all at . anyway im putting this under a read more cuz it just ended up being a looong rant (no spoilers for the plot btw)

1. i'm honestly okay with the fact that racism is incorporated into the game. yes, it's uncomfortable to hear (especially as an east asian woman), but it's an expected consequence of having the games be set in a specific location & time period. and the other option would have been to just pretend that racism DIDNT exist which is obviously worse. i wrote more about this in my ace attorney essay for school LOL but the gist is that it can be very powerful to bring real-world contexts into video games—it SHOULD make you uncomfortable and it SHOULD make you reflect, because media consumption has real-world effects & mediums like video games can be a tool for learning + awareness

2. that being said... i didnt like how van zieks story ended (re: his racism). mainly, i just dont think his backstory actually justifies his racism in any way. and it DEFINITELY doesnt excuse all of the abhorrent things he's said to the main cast... he was spewing racist shit for the entire series, and the "reason" behind it isnt even revealed until the very end—and we're just supposed to. forgive him right away?? even his remarks at the end about knowing ryunosuke had a honourable spirit or something from the moment they met... like ok dumbass. that sure didnt stop you from being racist. he's like "this man pursues the truth. unfortunately i just hate japanese people so much that i have to deny it" and im supposed to feel SYMPATHY for him???????

3. his racist remarks are also never truly addressed by the game. as in we never really see his racism being acknowledged other than a "wow! he sure hates japanese people!" and what i mean by this is that we dont see any emotional impact on the main cast. it's like hehe he hates me and everyone who looks like me but i will make every attempt to befriend him anyways 😍 it just rubs me the wrong way tbh

4. ohhhh my god the fan culture surrounding van zieks.... unfortunately, i was expecting this even as i was in the process of playign the series. a huge part of it is just that he has a cool character design (sexy) so people are willing to overlook the "distasteful" aspects. but it is pretty insane the degree to which some people are willing to overlook his racism to portray him as the "best prosecutor" with impeccable "honour" or whatnot. AND THE AMOUNT OF SHIP ART IVE SEEN OF HIM WITH THE JAPANESE CHARACTERS!!!!!!! it's just baffling. did we even play the same game -_-

finally, relating back to my 1st point of how having racism in the game could be a good tool for awareness.... well it probably wasnt their goal in the first place, but it wasnt achieved anyway. van ziek never truly undergoes any real character development re: his racism. he is never punished/called out for his actions, and worse, we (along with the main cast) are simply expected to forgive him & move on. there are no consequences for his actions—only excuses and vague “he’s changed for the better” in an undeterminable future

[feste-the-jester]

Do you know what’s fun?

Picking the blog of someone you don’t like, and seeing how far you can twist things to make it fit the BITE model -criteria to identify a cult. GREAT fun. All you need is a bit of creativity and a total disregard for accuracy. Don’t believe me? Let’s have a try and see how we do! The Bite model can be found here, with many thanks to the Fool for bringing it to my attention.

I. Behavior control:

6. Manipulation and deprivation of sleep.

The Fool lives in Australia and most of his readers are in a different time zone. This means that every time he starts publishing numerous posts about the latest drama, his followers are likely to get absorbed in it, depriving themselves of sleep and becoming more susceptible to his interpretation of things.

9. Major time spent with group indoctrination and rituals and/or self indoctrination including the Internet.

Each time the Fool decides on a new “sin”/aberrant behavior that the “enemy” is guilty of, he will publish many posts repeating the same assertion. Frequent repetition of the core message is a well known indoctrination technique. Many of the Fool’s followers are likely spending an inordinate amount of time on his blog, judging by the speed and frequency that “likes” from the same people appear.

10. Permission required for major decisions.

The Fool often receives and publishes asks, asking him for permission to create a blog similar to his, asking if it’s ok to follow or interact with Simon Alkenmayer, whether they or their friends are safe etc.

11. Thoughts, feelings, and activities (of self and others) reported to superiors.

Readers inform the Fool of what is happening on Simon and Kristina’s blog, report (often mistakenly, rarely, if ever, corrected) what Simon has said or done, both on tumblr and on other social media, such as Twitter. They also contact the Fool to report on their own thoughts and reactions to Simon.

12. Rewards and punishments used to modify behaviors, both positive and negative.

Readers who agree with the Fool and mirror his opinions are rewarded with sympathy (for their negative experience) and by having their intellect and critical thinking skills praised. Anyone who disagrees is deemed to be naive, immature, indoctrinated by Simon, incapable of logic etc. Indeed, the whole continued existence of the Fool’s blog is arguably a form of punishment for Simon “threatening him” with legal action back when the blog was first created. This communicates to members what kind of retribution they may expect if they cross the leader’s boundaries.

13. Discourage individualism, encourage group-think.

Any reports confirming the Fool’s assertions about Simon are immediately welcomed, believed, and adopted into the canon. Dissenting voices are “sent by Simon”, “haven’t read or understood the Fool’s arguments” or have been “manipulated.” The Fool does not acknowledge that it is possible for an intelligent, reasonable and objective adult to read his arguments and disagree with him.

14. Impose rigid rules and regulations.

Such as not answering asks that are not formatted to his liking, and he “can’t be bothered to read”.

16. Threaten harm to family and friends.

The Fool will publicly assert that he has never threatened anyone. However he has gone out of his way to connect Kristina to Simon, who is portrayed as “the enemy”. Several people, including this Jester, have been warned by friends to be careful of attracting the Fool’s and followers’ ire.

18. Instill dependency and obedience.

Readers expect the Fool to tell them which of Simon’s behaviors are problematic. Anyone who disagrees is likely to be accused of the same. (“If you think this isn’t racist, then you are also racist” etc.)

II. Information control:

1. Deception:

a. Deliberately withhold information.

Such as selective quoting, neglecting to withdraw statements that have been proven wrong, and not acknowledging any outside posts that don’t fit with the narrative.

b. Distort information to make it more acceptable.

Such as selective quoting, ignoring context and applying his own interpretation to things said by the “outsiders”.

c. Systematically lie to the cult members.

For example repeating that Kristina accused him of physically setting a fire on her drive.

2. Minimize or discourage access to non-cult sources of information, including:

a. Internet, TV, radio, books, articles, newspapers, magazines, other media.

Frequent repetition of how “unreadable” Simon’s books are, or how “long and ranting” his posts are can be seen as discouraging his followers from accessing them and forming their own opinion.

b. Critical information.

Any posts sharing positive experiences involving Simon are either ignored or discounted.

d. Keep members busy so they don’t have time to think and investigate.

Every time one of the Fool’s theories on Simon’s misdeeds is disproven, the Fool quickly moves on to a new accusation, keeping his followers from going back and reconsidering his previous posts.

4. Encourage spying on other members

b. Report deviant thoughts, feelings and actions to leadership.

The Fool often receives and publishes third party reports on Simon’s posts and behavior, inside and outside of tumblr. These are not fact-checked, but are welcomed and encouraged.

c. Ensure that individual behavior is monitored by group.

The Fool often receives and publishes third party reports on Simon’s posts and behavior, inside and outside of tumblr. These are not fact-checked, but are welcomed and encouraged.

5. Extensive use of cult-generated information and propaganda, including:

b. Misquoting statements or using them out of context from non-cult sources.

The Fool will often misquote Simon, and those misquotes will go on to be repeated with frequency by him and his followers.

III. Thought control:

1. Require members to internalize the group’s doctrine as truth.

a. Adopting the group's ‘map of reality’ as reality

If you don’t believe the Fool to be right, you are illogical, brainwashed or “reaching.” Frequent use of phrases such as “Obviously,” “We all know” etc reinforces this.

Everyone the Fool interacts with must acknowledge that what he is doing is critique, despite all evidence to the contrary.

b. Instill black and white thinking

Simon is “a bad person.” Everything he does must be seen and interpreted through this lense, which is reinforced frequently. The Fool often writes or publishes that Simon is “a bad person,” “a garbage person”, “an asshole” and similar descriptors.

c. Decide between good vs. evil

The Fool gets to determine what is good and what is evil. Simon is evil, and must be called out at every opportunity. The Fool and his followers are good, so any slurs, lies or offensive statements they make are excused and covered up.

d. Organize people into us vs. them (insiders vs. outsiders)

The Fool’s followers are intelligent, “have brains” and would never endanger anyone. The Fool trusts them to handle things appropriately. Simon’s followers are simple, impressionable, a mob. The Fool does not trust them to report their own experience, and their judgement is compromised by definition.

2. Change person’s name and identity.

The Fool calls Simon “Si”, “Krimon” and “Kristina”. Anonymous visitors to his ask box are encouraged to choose a “code name” to protect them from the evil Simon.

3. Use of loaded language and clichés which constrict knowledge, stop critical thoughts and reduce complexities into platitudinous buzz words.

Using loaded terms such as “misappropriation”, “grooming” to describe Simon’s actions and descriptions such as “critique” for his own writing help the Fool elicit the reaction he wants from his followers.

6. Memories are manipulated and false memories are created.

For example an influx of Anonymous asks that somehow suddenly realised years later that Simon behaved badly towards them, even if they didn’t think that way back then.

8. Rejection of rational analysis, critical thinking, constructive criticism.

The Fool has blocked people for disagreeing with him. He frequently shuts down polite questions and uses sarcasm to avoid answering. Despite not affording Simon the same luxury, the Fool expects his readers to “take his word about what he meant” with a post, even if the messenger is politely explaining how it came across.

9. Forbid critical questions about leader, doctrine, or policy allowed.

For example saying that he will “not publish any asks defending antisemitism. Even if that’s not what you think you are doing.” In effect, if you disagree with the Fool’s interpretation of Simon’s behavior as antisemitic, then you are defending antisemitism. No dissent allowed.

10. Labeling alternative belief systems as illegitimate, evil, or not useful.

No one possibly believes Simon is an actual monster, and if they do, they are unable of critical thought.

11. Instill new “map of reality”.

Commenting on someone’s art, mocking them, calling them names, is “literary critique”. Attempts to answer to accusations are “rants”. Asking someone if the possibility of legal consequences bothers them is “threatening” and “becoming irrationally angry”. And so on...

IV. Emotional control:

1. Manipulate and narrow the range of feelings – some emotions and/or needs are deemed as evil, wrong or selfish.

Simon’s feelings are not even real, according to the Fool. Simon could not possibly be affected by the Fool’s actions. He is not real and has no feelings. Instead, he is only capable of “ranting”, “manipulating” and “doing things for attention”. Any concerns brought to the Fool about how his actions are affecting Simon, are answered with “You need to remember he’s not a real person”.

3. Make the person feel that problems are always their own fault, never the leader’s or the group’s fault.

If Simon or his readers are upset, it’s their fault for looking at the blog. If anyone’s reputation is damaged as a result of claims the Fool makes about them, it’s on them. The Fool is free to make any comments he sees fit, with no consequences.

4. Promote feelings of guilt or unworthiness, such as

b. You are not living up to your potential

Being part of Simon’s group means you are allowing yourself to be manipulated and brainwashed. You can not reach your full potential unless you renounce Simon.

c. Your family is deficient

Your “found family” of gentle readers is deficient.

d. Your past is suspect

Your past experiences are not proof of anything. Bad things may have been happening in Simon’s space, and you may have been part of them.

e. Your affiliations are unwise

You are choosing to affiliate yourself with someone bad. And you are unable to tell he is lying to you.

f. Your thoughts, feelings, actions are irrelevant or selfish

If you share your thoughts, feelings or actions to defend Simon, it doesn’t prove anything, and by defending him you are harming others.

5. Instill fear, such as fear of:

b. The outside world

c. Enemies

The Fool makes sure to repeat often enough that readers might be targeted by Simon and his followers. He curates that expectation and then reinforces it by publishing Anons who agree.

8. Phobia indoctrination: inculcating irrational fears about leaving the group or questioning the leader’s authority.

Not so much fears of leaving the Fool’s group, as much as cultivating fears of leaving/going against Simon’s group. The Fool’s group is presented as a safe haven.

d. Never a legitimate reason to leave; those who leave are weak, undisciplined, unspiritual, worldly, brainwashed by family or counselor, or seduced by money, sex, or rock and roll.

Those who don’t embrace the Fool’s blog and choose to remain with Simon are weak-minded, brainwashed, unable to reason, or bad by association. There can be no legitimate reason to like Simon.

e. Threats of harm to ex-member and family.

No explicit threats are made, but seeing the treatment of Kristina Meister is implicitly threatening.

See? Of course all this is just an exercise -a thought experiment. But it’s about as well-argued as the Fool’s original analysis. (Which is to say, neither deserves to be taken seriously.)

[sainadazai]

When your crush is angry all the time

Ch.4

I wanna be an intern too, you ragedy ann looking ass hoe 😠



Y/n pov

°•○●○•°•○●○•°

All goes well when you are ignorant is what my dear best friend would say to me now, as I sit in the very back of the class unfocused on how our teacher is introducing an activity I have no chance of participating in. All I knew was that when Mr. Aizawa walked up to the board and wrote names of people getting offers, I wasn't one of them. Not that I expected to be, considering I wasn't in the sports festival, let alone the school at all back then. 

However, I did notice a small inconsistency in the order of the most offers. I was pretty sure that boom boom had gotten first place in the festival, him being there is what convinced me to transfer, but his name was actually second on the board. 

Todoroki had taken the place of first as far as offers were concerned. Todoroki the nice boy who I used to meet when I snuck away from my fucking prison cell. Call me privileged for complaining about living in a mansion All my life, but I much prefer being here. With common folk. They ground me. 

I peeked up from my phone at the red and white head of hair in front of me, he didn't seem all that fazed. Although maybe it was just the lack of seeing his face that made me believe he couldn't care less about all but one of those offers. Still, his business is his, and my business is the new Ao3 update on my favorite chrollo lucilfer fanfiction. What a babe. 

I decided that the class as of right now would be of no importance to me, considering I will have no offers, and bakugou-the reason I came here- hates me like I'm a piece of gum stuck under his shoe.  Through that conclusion I allowed myself to dissolve into the world of hxh and forget about how boring this world is. 

Could my power beat Killua or go in a fight? I mean, it doesn't enhance my strength like they did trying to get into Killua's house so physically they must be stronger. 

"Y/n! Is there something you would like to share with the class?"

Mr.Aizawas voice seemed almost shot at me as my gaze rose from my phone in my lap to meet him at the front of the room. He looked displeased to say the least. Well good for him, im displeased too, I might not be able to beat a fucking twelve year old in combat. 

"Huh?"

"You were grumbling, what's so important you had to tell us, hm?"

I thought it through for a second- just kidding, I never think anything through. 

"Oh, well I wasn't sure if I could beat Gon in a fight, but I'm not coming to the realization that if Chrollo is my boyfriend, I shouldn't have to fight anyone at all. I can just be a pretty face in the backgrounds and then after he wins for me i'll suck his-"

"Enough, y/n." Mr.Aizawa no longer held a tired looking face, his eyes were wide and an uncomfortable cringed was set on his face. As I peered at the rest of the class many also had shocked eyes, but unlike our teacher, held faint blushes. 

Minus midoriya, his face was completely red and his eyes void of life. I must've killed him, huh. 

"Wait!"

In an attempt to regain some dignity, I tried to correct myself.

"I would....not suck his-?"

"Don't even say it, shitty princess !"

"Woah bakugou, you spoke to me on purpose!?"

"Shut up!"

"Hey, how come you call me princess, you like me or something?"

He growled at that, neither of us paying mind to the fact that everyone in the class was either dead from nosebleeds or extremely uncomfortable and staring at us.  

"Its cuz you act fucking entitled like a princess"

"I'll be your pillow princes-"

"Enough!" A robotic-like hand sliced the air in front of me. The voice sounded firm, almost more teacher-like than our teacher's voice. I followed my gaze up the hand, not failing to notice how as I drew up the guy's arm his muscles only seemed to get bigger and bigger and- iida? 

"Oh class rep-"

"Y/n this vulgar language and border-line harassment needs to cease immediately. I will not tolerante overtly sexual language and acts in this class-"

As he was speaking I noticed something ironic about the situation. If everyone here didn't like sexual jokes or banter, how were they so flustered at comments that objectively should be unknown to them. 

"How did you know what I meant, iida?" I rasped in a low sultry voice, allowing my fingers to dance up his arm starting at the wrist in front of my face. 

I heard a few chuckles from, who I would say are the only two people enjoying this situation: kaminari and...stinky mineta. Iida's face grew more red than previously and the arms in front of me began shaking. 

"Mr.Aizawa it seems I've disarmed the robot. Is there a restart button or something?" I question with a serious face using the search as an excuse to wonder my eyes all over his body. Perverted? Yes. Rightfully attracted to this giant hunk of a nerd. Yes ×10. 

"No, there is not." Todoroki, who was in front of me, finally turned around to address me. I guess he was unfazed by my words. Looks like someone here can be cool. Whether he is okay because he is more comfortable with sexual jokes, or because he has yet to pick up on them, its nice that somebody in here can still function. Otherwise, I'd feel like a nuisance. 

"Y/n I'm not really sure how to- let's just say to have detention with your m- midnight. Detention. Yeah." Aizawa publicly convinced himself of my punishment? 

"Okay"

"Now, back to this, even if you didn't get any offers ALL of you will have an internship" 

And so went on the class, kids chose their hero names, not me though. I wasn't even sure I wanted to be a hero at all, this was just a little less boring and sad than the way I lived before. This school had people who laughed in joy, not just to mask the pain. That was the real benefit, not being a hero, or being strong. Likely no one here realized that there were many places where none of this joy was possible. 

Some of the kids in class gave me suggestions for a hero name, but I didn't like them anyway. They lacked personality, and while I have many adjectives to describe my personality, my life, none of them are all that heroic. 

"Dark element"

"Girl who will die if her quirk doesnt like its environment" 

See, I'm not the best at this. Even bakugan names had some sense to it...well no. I'd say we're about the same, but still. Ugh. 

~timeskip~ 

Bakugou pov 😠

She came up with no hero names. Fucking entitled brat. Everyone at this lunch table seems to have no problem with the fact that she is here, just happy to have another pair of tits to stare at like perverts. Their gross. I bet she doesn't even want to be a hero, she sure as hell doesn't act like it. We don't even know what her whole quirk is. Ive seen her do that plant shit a couple times, fucking with flowers or whatever. Still, there's more to it. Something we don't know, at least. Cuz in the middle of class she gets up and whispers to Aizawa and he just lets her go. Where the fuck does she go? 

Interrupts class, got into the school because her moms a teacher, won't use her quirk. What a nuisance, I can't believe she is not expelled yet. Plus those bullshit sex jokes are so shitty. She is obviously faking something when she does them. Not like midnight, who always at least seems like she means that gross shit. 

"Hey, who did you guys choose for your internship? I haven't chosen yet."

"The number three hero guy," I spoke, knowing I'm the only person here who already chose. 

"Really? Best jeanist! That's so cool, but are you sure that for you bakugou?" Shitty hair raised a shitty brow at me. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"

"Just that he seems pretty...uptight..for you?" Dunceface added, but he spoke like it was a question. Of course he is the hero for me, he is the highest ranting hero on my list. If I wanna be number one, I gotta train with the best. 

If I go to his agency I'm sure there will be a lot more action, since he is so high ranking. Then i'll get some real experience kicking villain ass, well, other than the USJ. 

"Of course he is the right option!"

"Woahhh~"

Shit. It's her voice. I honestly should applaud her for using it less often around me but, how can one small girl be so goddamn annoying. I don't even know what she has to say and I already wish she would just put a sock in it. How can someone so entitled like her, probably never had to lift a finger, walk  over here and talk like she has something to say. 

"You're working with the best jeanist! So cool, one time he saved me from a group of rapist guys, it was awesome with all these strings everywhere and I could only see half of his face. Oh and he had goofy hair too!"

Oh. I didn't really know how to respond to the girl who looked so excited about almost being violated. Another thing wrong with her? I looked back at the other people at the table to see if they knew how to respond to something like that. 

Dunceface was frozen, tape arms were frozen, shitty hair was frozen, and alíen eyes were looking like a lost puppy and trying not to cry. 

It didnt seem like the shutty princess was exactly understanding how what she just yelled was making things weird. She just stood there expectantly. She kinda looked like she thought being raped was something that must happen to everyone. Did she think that? Wouldn't put it past her weird ass. 

"Uhm...anyways, i'm sure you'll do awesome, he likes to put boys in tight jeans. Wish I could intern too, I'd love to see that boom boom~" she winked. 

A perverted joke...and then she had the audacity to wink at me. 

"You wish you could see me in tight jeans, shitty extra!"

"I know...thats what a I just said." She dead panned, blinking a couple times at me. 

"Tch, screw you!"

"I would-" 

"Can it, i don't wanna hear your shitty voice anymore"

The girl stopped herself after my words, pushing all her hair behind her head, except for the two blond stands in the front. 

(You don't have to acknowledge these if you don't want, but I made it so that they change color depending on what element your using and I thought it was hot*if you have short hair, then you just got a lil nishinoya type thing 🥰)

Lifted her obnoxious hands that moved around while she talked and made a zipper-like motion over her lips. Then she just stood there looking at me. I really wanted to just let her stand there and go back to eating. Ignore her completely and let her hope fizzle out and die or something like that. 

Yet here I am, still looking at her. Silently. Wishing she made a stupid joke so that I could stop flickering between those images I'd seen of her dancing. How even though ballet is a princess fucking dance, the pictures felt nice. Like if I was watching it live I would probably be unable to criticize it. That pissed me off, because I want to hate everything about her, but I can't hate those photos. Where she looks like she is flying, without any need for a quirk.

I see her in that weird gown, and now, in the UA uniform. I see her looking respectable, formal, and serious. Then I see her stupid little smirk as she takes pride in being able to shut up for more than a minute. 

"Why are you still standing there?"

Instead of answering, she took her hand up again, made a pinch with her fingers and unzipped her mouth. 

"I was enjoying the look in your eyes."she smiled. 

The look in my eyes? Could she tell I was seeing two different people? What the hell does that even mean? Even said it without that shitty flirt voice. Like she meant it. 

"You tryna make fun of me?"I stood up from the table to get in her face.

"Not right now, maybe later, I gotta do something." She smiled sincerely at me, for a second as she walked away, I forgot about how this conversation started. What a wierd fucking girl. I'll never respect her as a hero. Tch. (Yes, its canon he tchs even in his thoughts) 

3rd person POV 

Y/n briskly walked out of the cafeteria with a new goal in mind. She would come to remember how maybe being oblivious was a benefit in some ways, but for now, she had a clear plan .

"Mr.Aizawa, let me do an internship."

"You weren't in the festival, I can't just hand you to a hero who has no idea what you can do, y/n."

"Well, you know what I can do, right?"

"No. I'm not doing internships. Stop asking."

"That's not what I meant! You can just tell them, or I could, it's not that hard to explain. Just say i'm all- powerful or some play on words like 'she's got all the right elements' hehe, see how i mimicked your voice there?" Y/n grinned like a child. She was proud of herself. 

"No. Still not happening."

"I wanna be an intern too, you raggedy ann looking ass hoe" 

"Y/n, it doesn't make sense, insulting me to get what you want?"

"Maybe it doesn't, but I bet you feel real insecure about your hair right now."

"You already have detention, what more do you want!"

"An internship, I wanna do one with kamui Woods, I have a good reason, too. As far as my quirk control, i'm the weakest with earth, the aspect that allows me to grow and manipulate plants and stuff. That's why I've only been using that part of it all month. Im trying to get her up to speed so I can start using all four at once. He is like a tres guy, right? He manipulates earth all day long. He could teach me a lot, and that aspect of my quirk would suit his well. Please!?!?!?"

If the girl had just asked again in a normal way, his answer would have been the same. However Aizawa was taken aback to hear how much thought she put into this. From the stories of the teachers lounge, he came to understand her big life goal, was to rely fully on a rich man or woman, and do nothing at all forever. Just to try and forget about the terrible life she was destined to have because of that quirk.

This side of her was something he could not even her mother had seen, and it prompted him to speak those words she wanted to hear so badly.

"Fine." 

[apotoft]

Treat people how it is you wished to be treated. Everyone and anyone knows that love is the answer.

It is, truly. It’s just a spark . A little kindness. It really goes too far. Seems that it’s clear to the world now that my own Countries and many others too ... have finally gone too far.

The fact that we all understand this and the police just refuse to it just makes this worse. The lack of compassion.

It’s gone too far.

I got off social media yesterday after I unfollowed a lot of ppl (even got into it with an “associate” who said she just doesn't understand racism and blah blah blah so she won't speak up) and it's really brought up a lot of things I didn't even realize I was carrying all of my life and I'm just in so much pain right now. This pain, it’s incredibly deeply rooted. I feel as if I’ve moved with my eyes closed to not let myself break. Black people for years have survived in their own ways in order to not snap but what none of us realized is that

The rubber-band DOES pop.

It’s gone too far.

Today is the first day I felt I could breathe a little and I haven’t choked on my tears. My spirit is heavy as a Christian and a human but man the rage I have as a black woman I think I'm mildly going insane and I REFUSE to explain any of this or teach anyone who isn't a minority or doesn't get it because it's not my job and the painful truth is you just won't get it unless you research it or you experienced it.

It’s gone too far.

I don't know how to tell ppl I've been judged, shamed, denied and punished for the color of my skin before I could even tie my shoes. Like so many black people in the world we are taught self hate and shame while others were taught to keep this transition alive.

I've seen the difference and felt the difference and it's our normal. We've carried it for generations quietly of course and here we are and it's spilling out into everything and everyone. Are we truly surprised. Black people have touched everything and everyone. None of this has been acknowledged. We have not been acknowledged.

It’s gone too far.

We're hurt. We're scared. We're so damn exhausted. Anyone who is a minority and doesn't support or show a little bit more kindness is so much more problematic because that hurtful is inexcusable. We should be the same.

We all feel...

We should all ...feel.

We should of all carried this.

We should of never let this get this far.

STOP. KILLING. US.

Stop hating us.

Stop denying us.

Stop abusing us.

It’s gone too far.

Ive watched dogs ...animals have more rights and have been treated better than black ppl .

Ive said I don’t want children . Look at my world, my America! Who would in a world like this and only now you get it.

Now do you see.

My heart hurts.

We hurt.

We suffered enough. We’ve been suffering and it’s gone too far.

At this very moment I’m in a numb stance right now because I feel like we just can't ignore it anymore.

We won’t ignore that anymore.

It’s gone on too long ...

It’s gone too far.

[judgement-free-sideblog]

The enemy of love is the truth

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Summary: They were happy just as friends, but one morning the call from an old trauma may change everything.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, history of drug use, mental health issues, cursing, angst.

This one is extremely long but I love the final result, the next chapter will be the end, thank for reading, comments are more than welcome.

■Part I  ■ Part II ■Part III ■ Part IV ■ Part V ■ Part VI■ Part VII ■ Part VIII | Final ■

Part V

"And you didn't kiss, again?" Zawe said, she took a sip from her wine glass and take her hand to her forehead with exasperation. "This has been going on forever now, I'm done, Caroline you take care now"

"Don't look at me, I basically push them together what else can I do? Lock them inside my office? Trust me I have thought about it." The other woman said.

"Excuse me, I'm still here and I can hear you" Y/N said questioning why did she agree to have lunch with them in the first place, however she had chose to only tell them about the invitation to an ex's wedding and the late tea at Tom's flat and not a single thing else "And what does again is supposed to mean?"

"New year two years ago" Caroline started "I was dating that gorgeous Greek guy with the most beautiful abs I have ever seen, and everyone kissed at midnight, and what did you do? You leave the dance floor to go vomit in my bathroom"

"Oysters and champagne don't mix" Y/N said getting red remembering the night "And Stavros was only kind of hot" she add making Caroline sigh with pretend indignation.

"What about january last year?" Zawe continued "Bobby was sick and he was on call for his last movie, and you take a week off to stay at his place to help him out"

"First of all I love that dog, and I did that for him more than for Tom, and second I didn't stayed at his place" She answered knowing pretty well she was lying "I only get there super early and went out late at night, but I would have done that for you guys too"

They continued laughing and talking about nothing in particular, with the subject coming up time to time, they meant well and Y/N knew it, even if they didn't knew the whole story.

"Being honest he is as guilty as you are" Caroline said signaling the waiter to get the check. "Last year on November you were at that gynecology symposium on Madrid, and he acted like he was losing his mind until he got in to a plane to met you there, and what brilliant excuse did he give you? He said he needed a flu shot and don't trust his doctor here, also all those times he had crashed at your apartment are total bullshit I was with him the other night and he didn't have a single drop, and I'm getting tired of helping him pretend he does"

"Oh please stop it already" they were walking towards Zawe's car and she was as amused to find the truth about that obvious lie as she was exasperated by her friends "You are right ok? at least on my side. I have been childish about all of this. But if I'm honest I don't know what could I do? In the end I'm still a general practitioner from a tiny hospital and he is Tom Hiddleston"

"Well darling, he could be the sound engineer of the theater or the Prime Minister himself" Said Zawe once they were inside the car "He still is crazy about you. What you have to do is take the leap, talk about it like adults, go to the bloody wedding and enjoy yourself without thinking of anyone else"

"And for once don't run away like a scared chicken when things get personal" Caroline said happy that she finally was able to acknowledge her feelings.

"Sure... why not? By the way I been meaning to tell you something..."

The conversation fade away in other topics, a few more relevant than others, but Y/N mind was far away in the past thinking of the last time she risked all for him and how tremendously wrong it all have turn out.

They had agree he will pick her up at her place, after the most demanding shift she ever had, she took a quick shower and put on a flowy dress, and her coat, and in an effort to look more decent a pair of earrings.

She was trying desperately to make her makeup work when an alarm went off in her phone, a reminder to make a call and before she could think it trough she was already listening the dial tone, praying for him to don't pick up.

"Hi there" his voice finally said when she was about to hang up "so glad to hear you. It's everything alright?"

"Completely, how about you? Did you change your job as you wanted?" She said, now trapped in the conversation.

"I did, and them I changed it again, that's why you should call people more than once a year, otherwise you never know the full story. What's new with you?"

"I start working part time at a theater, as a personal doctor for the manager" she said getting close to what she wanted to say to him.

"Oh that's great, have you met someone interesting there? Are you dating some gorgeous Shakespearean actor... actress??" He still knew her well enough to make things easy for her to talk about.

"I do, in fact I have a date... soon, it's that ok?" She said the last a bit doubtful, she didn't want to hurt him again.

"That's amazing Y/N" David said sincerely "And relax, is not me who you should be worried about, I want you to be happy, just don't go sabotaging things like you use to. I love you girl, but if I'm honest I think you chose to be miserable even when other people try their best to make you happy"

They talked for another couple minutes and when she finally said goodbye his words kept resonating in her mind, but he was wrong, it was not sabotaging, it was self preservation, like this stupid idea of a date. She was quite sure he was trying to make her feel less ashamed for her drunken advances on him, a nice dinner, some talking so she could go on with her life thinking "It simply didn't work, but he is such a nice man"

And she hated herself for ending up in such pathetic position, thinking of how much fun tom must have had watching her making a fool of herself. She was determined then to call off the date, make a graceful scape before she could embarrassing herself but before she could called him there was a ring at her door.

He was gorgeous of course, his beard as well maintained as always and his hair combed to de back of his head in beautiful waves that she wanted to touch since the first time she saw him. He was wearing a coat over a simple dark grey shirt and jeans.

He smiled fondly at her when he saw her, there were dark circles under her eyes and he thought they looked beautiful, something refreshing about a woman who worked that hard on something that she loved.

Y/N intrigued him, she seemed to live like a mature functioning adult, but there was a childish sparkle in her eyes when she started to talk that made him want to know more about her, but then that ever present hint of sadness always refraining her to talk to much, all of which made her the most interesting puzzle.

"Something in mind you would like to eat?" He asked once they were inside his car, with his tinted windows up, he liked driving alone, but he liked his privacy more and they have proven to be an effective solution.

"Not really, anywhere you pick will be fine" she said smiling and he drove to a nice restaurant, making small talk about work, their mutual friends and the weather.

Once they arrived the valet took his keys and gave her what he thought was a meaningful almost impertinent smile.

"I really need to apologize for my behavior" She started once their food was ordered and the waiter had served them two big glasses of wine "It was inappropriate for me to act like that. I am deeply sorry"

"Don't be, we were all a little drunk. But it was nice talking to you" they ate in silence, other than, what she felt, empty mutual compliments on each others carreras. Proving what she had fear since the night before. Until he finally spoke again "I've been meaning to ask you, did you enjoy the play?"

"Absolutely, Mister Cox and Miss Ashton are outstanding, and you obviously it's an incredible play, all things considered" she said taken aback by the question and cursing herself for the last part.

"What things considered?" He asked now genuinely intrigued.

"Oh I'm sorry, I misspoke, it's something stupid actually" she said nervously trying to avoid his gaze and failing.

"Come on, I'm a big boy, I can take some criticism" he lean back on his chair and open his arms, as if he waited for a punch, his eyes still fix on Y/N.

"Ok, but do notice this is coming from Y/N the feminist doctor who spend her free time protesting and not Y/N the fan of theater and literature." She said finally looking back at him decided "I think somehow it demonizes Emma's betrayal and eventual "punishment" while it glorifies the male ego of the two men. And also Robert Down is a prick"

He opened his mouth slightly surprised and then closed his lips in a thin line and let go a chuckle, with a mild blush crossing his face.

"Auch" He said finally, "Well it's and old play... and he amm of course is not a good person, I guess if you are not familiarized with Pinter's work you may have that kind of conclusion"

He had trouble finding his words to debate her, although he was impressed with her honesty, but since it was a sensible matter he wanted to be clear, however Y/N interpreted as him trying to dismiss her statement and change the subject, which put her one step closer to anger.

"You really are that nice aren't you?" She started, with her voice cold and sharp "And I don't mean it as a compliment, but you are right. I don't know Harold Pinter's work but I do know he is factually wrong, there's no deep intricate meaning behind betrayal, in the end is quite simple, people can't make the choice of remaining truthful either to themselves or the people who they love without being bitches about it. You like to shag around no strings attached fine do that don't complain is it doesn't feel like a home, you want a successful marriage fine forget about any other bloody temptation and be decent. But I guess in the end lies are what keeps people together. Once the truth is out, love dies and so the relationship" he was astonished, however the passion in her voice made him answered to her in a similar tone, changing completely the direction he had imagine for the evening.

"Don't be absurd, that would imply people need to systematically lie in order to keep their relationships, if anything the play is a critique on those precise actions, while normal people try to have loving relationships in honesty, even when sometimes is easier to say a lie. And there's a complete difference between lying to save your arse and conceal your dishonesty, and lying to be socially functional"

"So you never lie?" She asked now completely furious of what she felt was hypocrisy.

"Everybody lies, that's the point, there is a difference in being oblivious on other people's feelings imposing your wrong personal opinions and pretend that's some moral high honesty, and being polite enough to avoid subjects that may hurt others" He said now crossing her arms, pleased with her momentary silence until she start to look for something in her purse trying to hide the hurt in her face.

"Exactly" She said finally putting a couple £50 notes on the table and looking at him with anger in her eyes "Like asking stupid women out so they don't feel like total idiots for hitting on you while they were drunk? That kind of politeness?"

"What?" He said flabbergasted finally rising his voice "That's why you think I asked you out?"

"Oh don't patronize me!" She said also rising her voice and standing up "It must've been so funny, asking a girl who is obsessed with you on a date, what amazingly beautiful act of chivalry. You know what you are? You are an entitled selfish bastard, who gets off on the world worshiping him." She took her purse of the table and put her coat back on, and before leaving she add "And men can't be feminist, you would know that if you read a book on feminist theory instead the glorified misogynistic bastards you adore"

She quickly move away from the table leaving a perplex Tom behind, but before she could exit the restaurant he started following her, reaching her just a couple meters from the valet parking station next to the restauran small planters.

"Oh this is very mature of you" he called her "You owe me an explanation"

"I don't owe you shit" He was close enough so he catch her by her wrist.

"Or at least let me take you home" he said turning her around, she rise her other hand and he prepared his right cheek for what he anticipated will be a slap, but something caught her eye and instead and she took her hand to her ear and to his surprise she change her voice to a high pitch whining, causing him to let her go.

"Oh whe is it? Where did I leave it? It must have fallen here" she started looking for something in the planters and kneeling near the fence.

"Are you having a stroke?" He asked getting down to her level "what are you looking for?"

"There's a guy with a camera hiding behind a car two meters from you" she said rapidly in a whisper, she quickly put one of her earrings in his hand and said: "Follow my lead, don't look back. Stand up now"

He did as she told him and they stand up, he was still holding the earring in his hand when she took it smiling wide, and putting it back on, and then for his surprise hugging him.

"Smile, get back inside, go to the bar, order a drink and then come back and ask for your car" she said using the proximity to whisper in his ear.

"Why?" He asked and the breaking the contact.

"Just trust me" she said between her teeth and smiling again. He returned the smile and nodded, going back in completely clueless of what was happening, in inside corner of his eye he could see the man with the camera.

He order a glass of wine, but he barely even touch it, the ten minutes he waited felt like eternity and finally he exited the place again. He give the ticket to the valet. The young man went for it immediately and he couldn't help to feel observed. When his car finally arrived and he tried to tip him the guy simply said "it's taken care of, drive safe" He nodded and get in his car not surprised to see Y/N already in the passenger seat.

He drove off and once they were a couple blocks away they looked at each other, and before anyone could talk they started laughing hysterically but it also felt cathartic.

"Care to explain what happened love?" He asked now back to his normal tone "Did you break into my car?"

"Of course not, Philip amm... the valet guy, he works half time as a medical assistant in my hospital. A couple weeks ago he told me that sometimes the waiters of that restaurant call the papers to get scoops on celebrities, and I assumed you didn't want my stupid tantrum in the first page tomorrow"

"Well no, but at least I'm glad you admit it was a tantrum. Can I know what happened?"

"Oh, the guy with the camera come asking me why you were chasing after me, I told him I made a scene in the restaurant because I couldn't find my late grandmother earrings and this handsome" She said exaggerating an innocent voice "who I didn't catch his name, help me found it, then I texted Philip to let me get inside your car, because I supposed he will be waiting for you to come out"

"That's amazing and clever" he said genuinely impressed by her story "But I meant at the restaurant"

"Oh... I had a terrible day, and I leashed out on you" she said turning red. "I am really sorry, you are not an entitled bastard, and everything I said... it was just out of place. I completely respect your acting, and I shouldn't have expressed myself that way" she apologized for all the things she have said without him interrupting her while he drive back to her place.

"Don't worry about it" he said finally smiling at Y/N again with the most candid smile he had given her yet "I'm sure other people have called me worst, just not to my face, and I do appreciate your honesty. Just one thing." He said parking the car at her door. "That's not why I asked out, and I apologize because I didn't make my intentions clear in the beginning. Nevertheless this was a fun experience"

"Said that again" she said without thinking.

"This was really fun I actually enjoyed your company..."

"No, that word 'nevertheless' sounds way more powerful when you say it."

"Nevertheless?" He said getting out of the car.

"Yeah, I actually have a tattoo that says nevertheless she persisted" she started playing with her keys in her doorway, looking pleased by the interest he show on that detail.

"You do go out protesting huh?" He said taking one step closer.

"I do, and I'm really sorry again" she said looking away and finally putting the keys in the lock.

"And again it's nothing really, so now... am I'll guess..."

"I'll see you around" she said, he kissed her on the cheek and she entered her flat, wishing to forget everything about that day.

By the time she was back at the theater next day, she was hoping to leave all behind, but everyone seemed to be obsessed with Tom's random act of kindness to a stranger that thank goodness the camera hadn't focused well.

She chose to hide inside her office the rest of the night until by the time she assumed everyone will be leaving someone knocked on her door, she opened thinking Caroline may be needing something, but she was surprised when she saw Tom standing there.

"Today it's my birthday, and we are going to celebrate, would you like to come by? I can't help to remind how you called Charlie and Zawe mister and miss, and I think they would like you" he said passing his fingers trough his hair distractedly.

"I know, yeah I would love too" She said immediately "But first, please come in, I... um... I actually got you something, it's a birthday present and also a peace offering for the way I acted yesterday" She went to her desk with him following behind her. She took something from the drawer "You are an amazing Robert, and I know you like to research your characters, I mean you probably have read this already but I thought you might like it" she give him a neatly wrapped brown package with a nice blue ribbon on top.

He opened unceremoniously with a child like expressions, touched by her gesture. And he opened his mouth in excitement and disbelief when he saw the book inside.

The Wild Swans at Coole. Other Verses and a Play in Verse. YEATS, W. B.

"Is this a...?"

"A signed original edition, yes." She said happy "I assume you have many of this but I couldn't think of anything else to give you"

"It's perfect actually" he said already carefully opening the book "This is too much, thank you"

"Your welcome" she took her purse and stand up ready to leave. "So where are we going?"

"Right right" He said standing up too. "You are gonna love this guys".

That had been the end of their would be romance and also the beginning of their friendship, but while Y/N tried on one of the multiple dresses Zewe had chosen for her the idea of trying again started to look less and less crazy, her plan was already in motion, she only hoped now that he would feel the same, and even more important than that, she prayed she wouldn't loose him in case he didn't.

[sharkytrash7]

My last say. Hopefully not my final essay.

So I've been watching YouTube videos of how to get over ex's and how to deal with break ups. In my heart, I know we belong together. I know the fact that I'm not Christian is a problem. My arguement is that you never fell in love with an atheist. You fell in love with me. Its tough when you refer to me as atheist because I'm so much more then that. You of all people know that. I love you with all my heart. I want to marry you still. I'm not of being alone or being without you. I'm scared of what I am without you. To be honest you were and still are my guardian angel in my eyes. You've changed my life and I hate to see you leave. You keep emphasizing that we might not be together but I still have hope we'll be together. After all, you have my rib. I know things are hard for you at the moment with God. Its tough for me 2. I go to afda and put on a smile pretending I'm fine. You want to be with a Christian. I get that. But no Christian will be as good as I am to you. Even tough I'm not a Christian, I can try to be the best person in the world for you. I dont love for your looks or your voice or cause you give me affection or cause you buy me stuff or cause you did things to me. Its all those things and more. I love you cause youre you. I would never change anything about you. Even your cute toes. Once upon a time I promised you I'd convert for you. I want to make this clear ! I am not trying to manipulate you in any way shape or or form ! Im just venting to tumblr. I'd keep my promise. It wouldnt be for you or for me but for us. Cause your right woman ! Its just better if we're both Christian. I know your gonna be thinking, "hmmmm, hes probably just saying this so I get back with him. He just wants me back. What an ass" and it does look like that. Thats why. Huh. Idk actually. I guess it is kinda fucked up to say this. Kinda shity cause then it would make your life 10 times harder. Okay so ignore that bit. Im not deleting it because effort AND because I said it / typed it with meaning and for a reason.

I get why we dont talk because if your parents find out they'll lose their minds and also because I'm pulling you away from your God things. But like when will I be able to date you. Ya know. Like even if I was Christian, your parents would still hate me. And if your parents forgave me. I wouldnt be Christian. So i get your side of life. Cause thats tough cookie. I wish our love could be enough because it is lowkey for us. Its a rough one. I wanna tell you so many things but i dont wanna jinx your future. I just find it crazy that you think your going to marry someone else. People have been saying its just because your my first girlfriend but I dont believe em. I felt a connection with you. Something I dont see happening with anyone else. You keep telling not to wait for you but its what I feel is right. Just like how you said it feels right to break up. I dont think this will last forever. We'll I wont be able to last much longer but. I feel like we've got this. We've been through a lot together and I'm positive about us. When I said us not being together would be a watse I didnt mean a waste of time or money or anything. I just meant it would be crazy for us to go through everything we did just to let (a big deal) get in the way. I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU MY BOO !

Lowkey in the back of my head thinking this

I know I said these things but I cant hold you to anything. You could be over me and my shit and want another relationship. I have to deal with that. If you want some buff white english indie guy to come love you then that the way it'll be.

Deep down I want it to be though. Like I want to be your knight. Your dark knight _wink wink_. I know eternal life is a big thing for you and I'd like to be there with you to. I dont really know if I'll be accepted up in heaven. Even if i am a Christian. Im hard on myself like that. Id rather let more deserving people go to heaven. Idk why I put myself. Its just me. I just see potential in others. More so than in myself. I see my purpose on earth as a chance to help others. You know. Plus im sure when (i cant remember the name of it) the blue lights come down and take people to heaven. Im sure I'll meet you up there. Your just so scared of messing up like one thing and I get it I was like that 2. Id make sure everything was planned out. Truth is. I hd to stop being scared in order to move forward. Like after my car accident. I was terrified to drive again. I couldnt deal with driving. But i had to get over it. And I know you blame yourself and God for what happened. Please dont. Everything happens for a reason. I feel like that stuff taught me a lesson about being calm and calming myself down. It definitely wasnt God punishing you for being with me. Again not trying manipulate you or preach to you or try to change your thoughts. Its just my opinion. All I'm hoping you do is consider what I'm saying. I really truley am sorry about everything but at the same time. Everything that happened has happened and its made us who we are. If given the chance I'd do it again.

Also lowkey I'd love to celebrate 2 years with you. #nopressure. Like seriously I'm being serious but at the same time dont stress you cute little head about it. If it doesnt happen it doesnt happen.

My eating habits have gotten worse. Idk. Im lowkey scared im dying. I want to go to the doctor but its expensive and I've been such a burden on my parents. I'm pretty sure I can wait a couple years before getting it checked up.

My new glasses are cool. You have to see yhem in person. That another thing. I thought i wouldve seen you by now just driving or something. But i guess you only really drive to church and home. Or to someones house or like a party thing.

Happy 21st birthday baby. Wow. Your getting like so old. I still remember falling in love with the 19 year old you. Look how far we came. A whole 2 years. Youve grown so much since then. Firstly you don't bump into cars xD. Jk. You really have become such a grown up and I've been blessed being there with you. You became independent and youve become yourself. Its was a wild trip but to see you come out on top has been worth it. You deserve the world. And if anyone tries to hurt you / stop you, send em my way. Youre one of the most beautiful intelligent cutest amazingest bestest person in the whole world. Happy Birthday Boo.

The boo tattoo. We getting em together ? Also all your stuff is still here so if you do move out invite me over sometime so i can drop off these things. Lowkey your life is amazing and spontaneous and I have huge FOMO (fear of missing out). You don't to worry about me tho. I've been waiting to do things with you.

Moving out. Yeah. Its a big possibility next for me. I remember you originally said we can't live together which sucked but made sense. So. If you ever need a place to stay. Call me. I'll set up a guest bedroom for you.

I wasnt going to with your dad a happy birthday because you never with mine I dont think. But im not a monster like you. Jk lol. You probs just forgot.

Also it really sucks you cant speak 2 me. Your not an asshole. I just wish you could've helped me calm down.

Im sorry this was so long. I'm sure Ive forgotten things and said things I shouldnt have but tbh its been kinda theraputic for me. Like I feel a lot better having got thise things off my chest. You dont have to reply to anything yet. Cause I know your brains busy atm. If you can acknowledge that you seen it that would be nice. But ja. Please dont take anything Ive said personally or strongly. I just blurped things out and yes things do have meaning. But it takes two to tango. I desperately want to tango with you though.

Ps I love you

Pps Im sorry

Ppps take me back

Pppps jk. not jk

Yours truly

Triston Kyle Pillay (Penguin)

3:36 Vala is today. Shhhh

[channie-fairy-chu]

My thoughts on Zach Herron

So like maybe 2/170 ppl that follow me actually know who Why Dont We is, but I still have to put in my thoughts aboht Zach.

First of all, earlier this month, he got into some shit for saying the n word. Here are my thoughts on that...Although I am still a person of color and part of the lgbt+ community, I have never had any offensive words used at me or against me, so It is hard for me to speak about slurs. The n word does not personally offend me, but it greatly makes my black friends upset when it is used, even by other pocs. Zach, who is 100% white, said a greatly offensive slur. Although, he did not mean it in an offensive way, he said said a word that he had no business in saying. I have seen arguments saying "It's the song lyric" and "He just wanted to keep the song in its original form", no excuses for this should be made. It is not hard at all to just not say a word. Over half of the artists I listen to are black, and so learning the words to their songs, there are times when I, Guess what!, dont say the n word! It's crazy just how easy it is. It doesnt take away from the song at all and it saves white people from getting their ass beat. My sister told me that all of the black limelights were okay with him saying it and only the white limelights were getting mad, but I find that so fucking hard to even believe. Do you really think that blacks are just going to let a white boy get away with it? Really? Not in the year twenty woke teen, I dont think so. He didnt even acknowledge what he did, he just left social media and let the situation get worse. Again, my sister said she thought he was going to let it die down and the say sorry, but statements and apologies need to be made as soon as possible, otherwise you just seem like youre saying it to get people off yoir dick...maybe he really didnt care if he offended someone and just tried to ignore that it ever happened ☕🐸.

Second, the second situation in this month relating to Zach. Him using girls for sex. Now, listen, I am also 17, although I am not sexually active, I know tons of people who are. It is just that age where it will happen. I have no problem with him having as much sex as he wants, but these girls under no circumstance said that it was a hook up or said that he was allowed to be with other girls. If they had, then I doubt they would be risking their reputation as a person if it came out as a lie to tell people about what he did. Now, this is similar to celeb rape allegations. One person comes out, and then many more people come out. This leaves people asking "why didnt they say something when it happened?" Or the find it sus that all of the sudden, a bunch of people start claimimg the same thing. I understand that, but the fact that most people who accuse someone of rape get called a liar or get threatend by the rapist if they tell on them, I can understand why they wouldnt want people to know. And alot of times, victims tend to get the blame put on them and getting raped is seen as a shameful thing. The rapist rarely gets the blame and rape is rarely seen as shameful. I know that he (probably) didnt rape these girls, but the situation is the same. Fans would probably attack these girls if they ever said that Zach hooked up with them and used them as soon as it had happened. Thats the sad truth. Im proud of these girls for coming out and saying how Zach hurt them. Zach is probably going to do the same thing and just leave social media for a good while. He probably wont say sorry either. On a good note, mama Herron follows an account on twitter that spills tea about wdw and so she probably saw what was going on. My hope is that she will give him a punishment he deserves. Step in as a mother of a 17 year old boy. I hope she doesnt care about potentially ruining his career if he gets punished. He should have thought about his career before he cheated in those girls.

Ive always had a bad vibe with Zach since the first time I ever found Why Dont We...looks like I was right. My next mission is to get my delusional sister to see that just because he is famous, does not make him a good guy. Because she dismissed the fact that he said the n word. "I dont care if he said it. It doesnt hurt me any". My sister, a white person, does not get any say if another white person and use the n word. I am beyond mad and Im about to go have a chat with my sister, so lets hope she doesnt deffend him at all, otherwise I might actually go off and get her woke asf.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[moonlitgleek]

What's the connection of Aegon the Unworthy to Rhaenyra? I've never seen or read anything in the lore of Rhaenyra being an Unworthy or problematic ruler like Aegon IV?

What I was referring to in my original post was that both Aegon IV and Rhaenyra were monarchs who put their personal pleasure and desires ahead of the realm and its laws. The power of the Iron Throne was a vehicle for them to use to satisfy their fancies and caprices, and little more. But the similarities do not end there: both were brazen about their affairs; both bestowed favor (or tried to, in Aegon’s case) on a lover publicly; both cared little for legalities; both used their obvious bastards to get the property of their purported fathers, Laenor Velaryon and Ossifer Plumm; both took action that threatened to send the realm into a civil war (Rhaenyra by having an affair and passing her bastards as trueborn heirs, Aegon by legitimizing his bastards and giving Daemon the sword Blackfyre, one of the visible symbols of Targaryen legitimacy - and one that had been used to argue that its wielder was the heir to the throne before - while casting shadow on his sister-wife’s fidelity and showing public disfavor to his heir to the point where rumors abounded that he was planning to disinherit him); both abused royal power even before they ascended to the throne, both were vindictive, cruel and consummately selfish. The list goes on.

As for Rhaenyra being a problematic ruler, boy oh boy. There is an abundance of evidence to that in the text that I’m wondering if perhaps you only read TWOIAF but not The Rogue Prince or The Princess and The Queen? The latter two really paint a picture a proper tyrant with a heavy inclination to abuse the law for her personal gain and pleasures, whether during her time as Princess of Dragonstone or her short tenure as queen.

Under the cut for length.

As Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra’s most infamous act that bespoke of her indifference to the laws governing the realm she claimed as hers was her brazen affair with Ser Harwin Strong that produced three boys that she claimed fathered by her husband Laenor Velaryon, but who were facially the bastard sons of her lover rather than her husband. Trying to pass three obvious bastards as trueborn princes not only speaks of the extent of Rhaenyra’s belief of her own supreme power that (she thought) allows her to claim unprecedented privilege by getting her boys acknowledged as trueborn heirs based on her own say so, but also shows her willingness to flout the law and jeopardize the integrity of the line of succession for the sake of her own pleasure. According to Archmaester Gyldayn, it was high treason that Rhaenyra brashly committed by claiming bastards as trueborn heirs to the Iron Throne. Politically speaking, this was an awful political action that undermined Rhaenyra’s already tremulous position as heiress, but more importantly, it was an outright invitation for a future succession war even without the Dance happening. No one was ever going to accept the throne being passed to an obvious bastard while trueborn male heirs to King Viserys I lived, not the Westerosi nobility, not Rhaenyra’s brothers, not even her second husband Daemon the Rogure Prince who assuredly would have pushed for his two sons’ rights over the three nominal Velaryon princes. This decision on Rhaenyra’s part was a civil war waiting to happen, one way or another. The fact that she thought she could get away with it and that everyone would accept her kids’ parentage on her word is a testament of a despotic view of her power and what allowances it gave her, and a clear statement of her disregard of the laws governing Westeros. I mean, I don’t really have to argue how damaging to the realm such an attempt was, do I? The main novels made that argument quite effectively with Cersei’s children.

Of that inherently destabilizing act came two instances that set the tone of Rhaenyra’s behavior when it came to covering her treason, and emphasized her dismissal of the law as something that didn’t apply to her. The first is the tiff between her brother Aemond and her three Velaryon sons in which he called them Strongs that escalated to her second son Lucerys using a dagger to slash at Aemond taking out his right eye. In the aftermath, Rhaenyra demanded that Aemond be questioned “sharply” till he revealed where he heard the Strong rumor. She wanted Aemond, all of ten years old then, to be tortured so she could make a statement about her intolerance of the “rumors” of her sons’ parentage, completely ignoring the fact that someone armed her five-year-old child with live steel that he then used on his uncle permanently injuring him. Mind you, Alicent’s demand that Lucerys’ eye be put out in retribution for Aemond’s eye was just as monstrous, but two wrongs don’t make a right. Just because Alicent was awful does not make Rhaenyra any less awful. One wanted a child maimed, another wanted a child tortured.

The other example happened after the death of both Laena and Laenor Velaryon when their father Corlys was stricken by fever raising the question about the inheritance of Driftmark. Rhaenyra urged her goodfather to name her son Lucerys the heir to Driftmark, except, you know, Lucerys was not actually a Velaryon so he didn’t have any right to the Velaryon inheritance, no matter how Rhaenyra insisted otherwise. When Corlys’ nephew Vaemond objected and argued that Driftmark should pass to him because Rhaenyra’s children were bastards (admittedly purposely ignoring the claims of Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Laena’s daughters by Daemon Targaryen, in the process), Rhaenyra had Daemon seize Vaemond and with no trial or due process, had him beheaded and fed his body to her dragon, an atrocity that was later compounded when Vaemond’s brothers went to Viserys I with their families to ask for justice and press their claim, only for the king to have their tongues removed, every single one of them, based on his previous edict that he’d remove the tongue of any who talked about the Strong rumors. That’s a gross mockery of justice and law, an infringement on the rights enjoyed by nobles, and a blatant show that Rhaenyra thought she could do whatever she wanted, even illegally seizing and murdering a noble with no trial. How very Aerys II of her.

Those are, unequivocally, the actions of a tyrant that also show what an awful political actor Rhaenyra was. There are some other examples of her bad political action during her time as Princess of Dragonstone, but I’m not going to get into them because being a bad political player doesn’t automatically equate to being a tyrant. Aenys was a terrible and ineffective political actor, but he was no tyrant. It just happens that Rhaenyra was both. Her actions during the Dance and her short tenure sitting the Iron Throne only damned her further on both accounts. Even at the height of her victory, her vengeance and whims proved her an appalling leader and ultimately led to her losing any legitimacy she could have claimed when her actions led to the smallfolk of King’s Landing storming the Dragonpit in a clear rejection of her rule (and to be fair, of Aegon II’s as well), and to even her most leal noble allies deserting her.

During the course of the Dance, Rhaenyra sanctioned the murder of Aegon II’s heir, the six-years-old Prince Jaehaerys, and started a rewarding manhunt for his daughter, the six-years-old Jaehaera and his youngest son, the toddler Maelor, that involved sending out “knights inquisitors” AKA torturers to wring information about them from the people. Strategically and politically, Rhaenyra prolonged the war in pursuit of personal vengeance and ignored Corlys Velaryon’s counsel of war-ending efforts. She insisted on inflicting severe punishments on those who served Aegon II, lined the walls of the Red Keep with severed heads daily (something that soured the smallfolk of King’s Landing on her and led to a comparison to Maegor the Cruel), refused to offer reasonable surrender terms to Lords Baratheon, Lannister and Hightower, and summarily had the Hand Otto Hightower and several members of the small council executed with Tyland Lannister sent to the torturers, all of which made bending the knee to Rhaenyra a rather unattractive option and ensured that the lords on Aegon II’s side would continue to fight to the end since their choices were death in battle or death after surrender. If all the roads led to death, why not go down fighting? Corlys Velaryon argued for pardons and hostages from the noble lords, for Alicent and Helaena to be sent to the Faith and Aegon and Aemond to the Wall, for Princess Jaehaera to be his own ward and in time wed Aegon the Younger in a conciliatory move between the two factions. Rhaenyra actively rejected any attempt of peace talks and chose vengeance instead.

She then doubled down on her brutality and went on to turn the smallfolk against her and alienate her own allies out of paranoia. She showed utter tone-deafness and lack of care for the people of whom she claimed the right to rule when she redirected resources away from a populace wrought by war and hunger and to preparations of a “lavish” party for her last Velaryon son to mark his installation as Prince of Dragonstone. Taxing the people to throw a party is damningly selfish in normal circumstances but doing it in time of war and winter when the people have been suffering for a prolonged period of time as it was (for a petty fight over the throne between two spoiled children no less) is reprehensible. The storming of the Dragonpit was a natural response and a testament to the level of misery the Dance inflicted on the people that facing fire-breathing creatures became an acceptable risk. This was a rejection of the dragons, greens and blacks alike, brought to head by Rhaenyra pushing a populace already pushed to the brink to throw a party. The frankly idiotic order for Addam Velaryon’s arrest and the execution of Nettles in the wake of the Two Betrayers and news of Nettles’ relationship with Rhaenyra’s husband Daemon came after that, and was crippling to Rhaenyra in every way. 

First came another instance of Rhaenyra’s disregard for the law by ordering the arrest of someone who proved nothing but loyal to her and who later went on to die in her service for the grand crime of being bastard-born, made worse by her demand of Lord Mooton of Maindenpool to break one of the oldest tenents of law to kill a teenager protected by guest right under his roof. Which made his options to either defy Rhaenyra’s order which was tantamount to treason in her eyes and basically forfeited his life, or violate an ancient and widely respected taboo and bring down the wrath of the gods upon him (and face the wrath of Daemon and his dragon as well). That the Maidenpool maester showed Prince Daemon and Nettles Rhaenyra’s orders and was promptly followed by Lord Mooton’s defection to Aegon II comes as no surprise in the face of the “foul choice” the queen gave him. Second was the devastating result of that decision. Through her paranoia and vengeful impulses, Rhaenyra effectively forced her allies to turn on her. Besides Lord Mooton, that edict lost her her two most loyal supporters: Coryls Velaryon who warned his nominal grandson Addam of Rhaenyra’s orders leading to Addam’s escape and Coryls’ arrest, and Daemon Targaryen who helped Nettles escape then took off to settle a personal score with Aemond, abandoning Rhaenyra. Considering that Coryls provided like, half of Rhaenyra’s army and all her naval force, Daemon was the commander of her troops and her Protector of the Realm, and that he, Addam and Nettles commanded three out of the four mature dragons on the Blacks’ side, that decision was counterproductive to Rhaenyra’s war efforts and a serious blow to her military strength. It was only Addam Velaryon’s stalwart valor at the Second Battle of Tumbleton that prevented the greens’ descent on Rhaenyra in King’s Landing.

Too, and relatedly, that edict and its consequences also sent a rather damning message to Rhaenyra’s supporters and created uncertainty within her ranks. She was turning on her own allies by this point for absolutely no reason. She ordered a loyal dragonrider’s arrest for no crime just because two other dragonseeds betrayed her and threw one of her staunch supporters, her one-time goodfather, in the black cells awaiting trial and execution. If the queen could turn so easily on her most loyal subjects and on a lord with the weight, influence and familial connection to House Targaryen like Corlys Velaryon whose family served the queen faithfully and even died for her, if she gave orders to have her own husband subdued and delivered to her in King’s Landing, what’s stopping her from doing the same to the next lord who displeased her?

So I’d say that Rhaenyra was more than just problematic, anon. In light of how she showed herself to be dismissive of the law as something that didn’t apply to her, a dreadful political player who was more interested in serving her own wishes and wants than in anything that benefited the realm, and a dishonorable and brutal figure in both war and peace with no respect to law or social taboos or the rights of the nobility or the suffering of the smallfolk, I’d say she proved herself a tyrant and earned her place as one of the worst Targaryen monarchs in the text.

[whiteladyofrohann]

Sansa Stark and her ‘Starkness’/’Least Northern’

Recently, I’ve seen many posts about how Sansa is the least Northern/less of a ‘Stark’ in comparison to her siblings and so I wanted to make a post to demonstrate how Sansa is very much a Stark, and has a lot of connections to the North. Some people have tried to almost deny the connection Sansa has with the North/being a Stark. By the way, this is not me bashing other posts, I just wanted to give my opinion.

I fully believe that Sansa will end up at Winterfell. It is where she was born and where she has always and will always belong, even if she herself hasn’t always known that. She will not be on the Iron Throne or become the Lady of the Vale/Westerlands. Her place is at Winterfell, ruling there or not. I feel the southern aspects of her story were there so we notice the difference in her character. We see the development from this young girl in AGOT who dreams of the south and wants to live in the pretty castles to the woman who will be in ADOS and the bits in between where Sansa realises she belongs in the North, that she is a Stark. 

(Rest under the cut because this is big)

I’m not going to deny that her ‘Northness’ is less obvious than the other Stark POVs because Arya and Bran’s chapters are full of many Stark and North connections. But Sansa’s fascination with the South begins to fade when she realises what it truly is and after AGOT, her Starkness is cut off outwardly because she is surrounded by enemies, trapped in KL, but internally we see how much she longs for home.

There were many problems with the Winterfell plot this season, but I still believe in the books that Sansa and Jon will be the first to reunite and the first to return home. At the minute, Arya and Bran are still training, and while they will definitely return to Winterfell, it won’t be just yet. Right now, I feel that it is far more likely that Sansa will leave the Vale before Bran or Arya will return from beyond the Wall/Braavos.

Stark Identity

Like Arya, Sansa has identity problems. She is forced to assume a fake identity to keep her safe. Whilst on the outside she can’t admit to being a Stark, on the inside, she never forgets who she truly is. This parallel has fascinated me between the two because they are both in completely different situations, but have to throw away their true identities. But they don’t lose it, just like her sister, Sansa remembers who she truly is:

‘I am a Stark of Winterfell, she longed to tell him’ - A Storm of Swords, Sansa VII

‘I am not your daughter, she thought. I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard’s daughter and Lady Catelyn’s, the blood of Winterfell.” - A Feast for Crows, Sansa I

‘She was a Stark of Winterfell.’ - A Game of Thrones, Sansa I

Even in the show, she reassures himself and others of her identity.

“I did what I had to do to survive, My Lady. I am a Stark, I will always be a Stark.” - 6x07: The Broken Man

“My name’s not Alayne, it’s Sansa Stark. Eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark.” - 4x08: The Mountain and the Viper

“I’m Sansa Stark of Winterfell. This is my home.” - 5x06: Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Thoughts of Winterfell

This I feel is an important one. There are many instances where Sansa is thinking of Winterfell, of her home, just as the other Starks do. She knows she belongs at Winterfell, and she longs for it.

‘I pray for Robb’s victory and Joffrey’s death...and for home. For Winterfell.’ - A Clash of Kings, Sansa III

‘That was such a sweet dream’, Sansa thought drowsily. She had been at Winterfell, running through the Godswood with Lady. Her father had been there, and her brothers, all of them warm and safe. If only dreaming could make it so.” - A Storm of Swords, Sansa IV

Even when Joffrey taunts her and takes her to see Ned’s head, Sansa is thinking of her home, far away while she is surrounded by enemies.

‘...Yet she knew that beyond them was open country, farms and fields and forests, and beyond that, north and north and north again, stood Winterfell.’ - A Game of Thrones, Sansa VI

And lets just talk about her entire final chapter (Sansa VII) in ASOS. I counted the mention of Winterfell 17 times. Along with one of my favourite quotes:

‘She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams’

She actually makes Winterfell out of snow in this chapter. If that isn’t longing for her home and demonstrating a connection then I don’t know what is.

Lannister/Bolton Marriage

I see people argue ‘but she’s a Lannister/Bolton because she married Tyrion/Ramsay.’ Not a single person has ever referred to Cersei as Cersei Baratheon. You have women like Catelyn, who still clings on dearly to her Tully side, but fully embraces the family she was married into and becomes a Stark in all but blood. Cersei doesn’t embrace being a Baratheon, and clings onto her Lannister heritage proudly and defiantly. No one has a problem with Cersei identifying as a Lannister, and Sansa will always identify as a Stark, never as a Lannister. She identifies with her father’s family, the line she comes from and she would never embrace the families who murdered her own. She always has done and always will consider herself a Stark.

Suffering for the North

As @hopepeaceandblackgirlmagic stated, Sansa has been beaten, abused, sold and raped for the North and her Stark name. Sansa was beaten as a punishment for Robb’s victories, she has suffered at the hands of enemies because her family were fighting for the North. She has been the victim of southern oppression, a hostage at the mercy of the cruel Lannisters in King’s Landing. I fully believe Sansa suffering this much in the south is a direct pointer to the fact that she belongs in the North.Still on the topic of Northern independence, Sansa actually wants it. She acknowledges her family’s history, what has happened to them in the south. Her mother and brother died for Northern Independence and she fights for it now. But it wasn’t her who gave the North away. She wants the North separate from the south but Jon, who is seen as the most Northern, gives it away, not Sansa.

Lady

A big thing that people use to ‘prove’ that Sansa is the least Northern is the fact that Lady dies very early on. Grey Wind is the only other direwolf who has died, but Robb is also dead. People sometimes forget this scene:

‘“Choose four men and have them take the body North. Bury her at Winterfell.” “All that way?” Jory asked, astonished. “All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.” - A Game of Thrones, Eddard III

Ned orders Lady’s body to be taken back to Winterfell, the place where she belongs. People often say that the direwolf mirrors the person, and Sansa’s place is also North. The thing is with Lady, people say that Sansa is less of a Stark because she didn’t form the connection with warging etc that the others did/will do. This is unfortunate, but had Lady lived, Sansa would have that connection. Lady’s death is another way of signifying how alone and vulnerable Sansa will be in King’s Landing, but her body being back at Winterfell shows Sansa’s heart is at Winterfell, and that is where Sansa herself belongs, beside her direwolf in her home.

Stark and Bravery

I remember once reading that Sansa uses her Stark identity and link to Winterfell as a way to be brave. I can’t remember who wrote it, but credit to the original person who did, I’ve just added slight bits to it.

"Do as you’re told, sweetling, it won’t be so bad. Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren’t they?” Brave. Sansa took a deep breath. I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave.’ - A Storm of Swords, Sansa III

‘She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.’ - A Storm of Swords, Sansa VII

‘The hot water made her think of Winterfell and she took strength from that.’ - A Game of Thrones, Sansa VI

This is so important. Starks are known for their strength and Sansa knows this. Sansa is often seen as the weakest of the Starks because she’s more gentle, not as fierce etc. She gains her strength from her home. It is Winterfell that makes her feel brave and strong. It is her being a Stark that gives her the confidence, the link to wolves. This is so important in Sansa being Northern.

Other Quotes

Other people have even connected Sansa to the Starks, to Winterfell and to wolves etc.

‘The Queen bristled. “I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf.” - A Feast For Crows, Cersei IV

“For what crime? She did not fight her brother’s battle.” “She has the blood of a wolf.” - A Clash of Kings, Sansa III

“I forgot, you’ve been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterwards changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat and flew out a tower window” - A Storm of Swords, Arya XIII

‘Not Sansa; his first wife, Tysha. The whore wife, not the wolf wife.” - A Storm of Swords, Tyrion IX

Now, Cersei and Joffrey’s are meant to be insults, but they still demonstrate that Sansa has a connection to wolves. All of these examples come from people who aren’t exactly Sansa’s best friend (excluding Tyrion). It shows that she is Northern, she is a Stark. Any mention of her as a ‘wolf’ or with ‘Winterfell’ is proof of her connection to her Stark heritage. People may disagree with me, but it’s used to show ‘Starkness’ whenever Arya or Lyanna are referred to as ‘she-wolves’ etc (and I’m pretty sure in the show, not sure the books, that Jaime refers to Cat as a she-wolf as well), so Sansa should be included with the two other Stark women.

Other Ridiculous Claims

I have previously seen ridiculous claims as to why Sansa is the least Northern. Here they are:

Sansa lies, acts sly at times therefore not acting Northern as people from the North: Northmen do lie, and lying occasionally does not equate to perfect honour. While for a good purpose, Ned lied to his wife for their entire marriage. Roose Bolton is very much a Northmen and is one of the sliest characters in the series.

Sansa is the most like Catelyn, who is not a Northerner: Actually, I fully believe that Arya is the most like Catelyn and Sansa is more like Ned (see here for my meta). Arya being like Catelyn doesn’t make her less of a Stark, and Sansa sharing a few similarities to Catelyn does not make her less of a Stark. Catelyn herself adapted to the Stark way and herself actually very much becomes a Stark and was loved by the Northmen.

Sansa looks like a Tully, whereas the others look like Starks: No, it is only Arya (and Jon) who have the Stark look. Robb, Bran and Rickon all have the red hair and blue eyes, and no one doubts their Starkness. Just because Sansa looks like a Tully doesn’t make her less Northern

Sansa is the only one without a Northern name: First, Robb is not a Northern name, it is to honour Robert Baratheon. Second, Sansa is a Stark name, has been used before. Out of all the Stark kids, only Brandon and Rickon are very common. I’m sure there have been more Jons, but we only know of one. And we only know of one Arya and Sansa as well. So, Sansa’s name is as Northern as her siblings.

Some of these are ridiculous, but I have genuinely seen some people claim this.

The Show

Sometimes, the show and the books obviously overlap, but I try to distinguish  the books and the shitstorm that is the show because of how vastly different they are, but there are still things only in the show that prove Sansa’s connections to her heritage.

In the show, it is Sansa who convinces Jon to take back Winterfell. She is the one who has the idea to remove Roose and Ramsay from their father’s seat. She is the one who convinces Jon that Winterfell belongs to the Starks and that it should be returned to them. Jon didn’t want to fight, but Sansa convinced him. Sansa wants to fight, as the Starks have always done. Here are some quotes demonstrating the link that Sansa has with Winterfell

“There’s only one place we can go. Home.” “Shall we tell the Boltons to pack up and leave?” “We’ll take it back from them.” - 6x04: Book of the Stranger

“Winterfell is our home. It’s ours. And Arya’s and Bran’s and Rickon’s, wherever they are, it belongs to our family, we have to fight for it.” - 6x04: Book of the Stranger

“This isn’t a strange place, this is my home.” 5x05: Kill the Boy

“Welcome home, Lady Stark. The North Remembers.” 5x03: High Sparrow

“I’m Sansa Stark of Winterfell. This is my home.” 5x06: Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Just because as a child, Sansa liked pretty things, was more feminine, was more into knights, wanted to see King’s Landing, does not mean she is less of a Stark. Just because she is not a warrior like other Northern women does not mean she is less of a Stark. Just because she wanted to live in the South does not make her less Northern (People forget that her father grew up in the South). Lady being killed and Sansa not developing the connection the others do, does not make her less of a Stark. This post was just to try to point out that Sansa is as much of a Stark and no less Northern than her siblings.

Sansa Stark is far from perfect, she is incredibly flawed but her childhood has been marred by horror, beatings, deception and lies and the things she has done in order to survive do not make her any less Northern or any less a Stark.

[greyskywrites]

Wolf’s Price

[First] [Previous] [AO3] [ko-fi]

IV. Witch God

5.8k

The summer in Saren is a mild season that washes the world in a thousand hues of green, and speckles it with flowers. Foxglove, lion’s tooth, aster, daisy, wild rose. The first of the berries were ripening as we passed through Wetasur, the estate of the Alfer family. I had written the letter in Sarenn, though as an officer of King Isaec’s army, Muras was not required to give notice to the hall’s whose hospitality he sought. I thought that a little courtesy might go a long way for smoothing over any ruffled feathers.

The new Lord Alfer had taken his title only a year before. He was hardly twenty, a young man named Barwald. I was pleased to find that he still wore his hair in the Sarenn style, with the braid beginning at his crown to indicate his status. Many men of influence had cut it short after the war, to better ingratiate themselves with the Kressosi and maintain their power.

“Commander,” the young Lord Barwald said graciously, his Kressosi speech methodical and practiced. “I trust your elk have been seen to.”

Muras acknowledged that they had, though he prayed for whoever was tasked with looking after the half-wild bull. There was some talk over accommodations, or some such. Nothing that I considered of interest enough to distract me from the first proper tapestry I had seen in seven years. The one in the main hall of Thralduslodge was massive, sixteen feet long and at least seven feet high. I walked along its length, taking in every stitch of color.

The center of the piece was a massive brown bear, stood on its hind legs. Around it there seemed to be scenes of a story, a warrior accompanied by Weta, the club-footed god, the Carrion-Maker. The warrior’s birth, weapons gifted to him by Weta, followed by a life full of battle, and his death, at the hands of Weta himself.

“My twice great-grandmother made that,” Lord Alfer said, stepping to my side. “It took her years to complete.”

“It’s been years since I’ve seen something so beautiful, My Lord,” I said. “Your family history?”

Lord Alfer nodded, his hands clasped behind his back. “The story of my ancestor, Alferi Bearskin.” He smiled slightly at me. “According to the story, he transformed into a bear in battle. A gift of Weta, in exchange for his tongue.”

“He was mute?” I asked.

Lord Alfer nodded. “So goes the story.” He looked at me a moment. “You’re Sarenn, then?”

I nodded. “From Arborhall.”

“I should like to visit there soon,” Lord Alfer said. “I consider Lord Anarin a friend.”

“The lord is in good health, I hope?” I asked.

Lord Alfer nodded. “Just welcomed his first son into the world, I believe. Orvas.”

What a terrible name. What kind of wife did he have that would give a child that name? “Orvas Anarin,” I murmured. “Hmm. Time will only tell what sort of lord he will make.”

“Yes,” Lord Alfer said, “with that Kressosi mother of his.”

He had turned away, and thus missed the way I looked at him, unable to hide my shock.

I felt off-balance, and suddenly nauseous. I stumbled out into the open air, and put my hands to my knees, trying to steady myself.

Of course. Of course; as I had found it necessary to ensure my survival through Kressosi men, Julas must have seen it advantageous to take a Kressosi wife, to show his commitment to peace, to the king he now owed his fealty to.

A Kressosi woman was raising the heirs to my family’s house.

This, too, was a punishment.

#

The stories say that Weta came to Saren with the elk, who wander as he does. Weta is a restless god, and though his right foot is twisted and he walks with a limp, Weta is ever a traveler. He delights in all that excites the heart: in feasts and drink, in dance and lust, in war, in madness. He seeks hidden things, forbidden things. Ever Weta is hungry, ever Weta reaches deeper.

Small wonder they call him both bloodbrother and adversary to the Wolf. Their relationship is a contentious one, they go from allies and friends to bitter enemies in the space of a heartbeat, like starving beasts over a carcass. There are a thousand stories about how they came to swear brotherhood to each other, each as true as the next.

Weta, feeder of vultures and ravens.

Weta, the bargainer, the sorcerer.

His gifts, too, come with a price—though they are often less predictable than the Wolf’s. Some are clear: the gift of Sight in exchange for one or both eyes, strength in exchange for a hand or foot. Then there are those less clear, as in the case of Alferi Bearskin: the ability to change forms, in exchange for a tongue.

Laying beside Muras that night, my belly full of elk meat and wild rice and last autumn’s cider, I thought a great deal of Weta. My father had not made many sacrifices to Weta that I could remember. What Weta dealt in had little to do with the life of a lord whose land was filled with sheep and goats, except on the occasion that Kressosi raiders crossed the Lor, and my father was willing to call on any god who might send them back. He had spoken of Weta most when he traveled.

Weta, god of the long road and the narrow forest path.

Weta taught us to write, they say, and they also say that it was Weta who taught witches their craft, when he stole the knowledge from Ima Spinna, Mother Spider, who weaves all truth into being. (It was the Hasi, who taught other Sarenn about Ima Spinna, and it was Ima Spinna who taught us to sew and weave and braid our hair.)

It was restlessness that roused me from bed. Neither Muras or Todd woke, so I was free to pull my riding skirts and a coat on, making my way down to the stables, not conscious of the fact that I was barefoot until I felt the straw under my feet.

Bili was awake and alert, as if he’d been expecting me. I put the bridle on him, but not the saddle, pulling myself over his back and taking myself out into Alferi’s hunting woods. I didn’t think it strange, at the time, that the stable doors were open and I encountered no one awake or asleep. Nor did I think it strange that I was not telling Bili where to go, but he walked with purpose.

It was perhaps half an hour before I noticed the shapes falling in alongside us. They were small, human-like, but hairier, with slumped shoulders and long faces, cow tails whipping behind them. Trolls, I realized, with surprise. They road on the backs of elk, or hung from the limbs of trees, their eyes glinted golden in the moonlight. There must have been dozens of them, following me through the forest.

Gradually, I realized they were chanting something.

Vulgafra, vulgafra, vulga- vulga- vulgafra!

It was hardly more than a whisper in the trees at first, and it had none of the poison of the man who had first called me that. It seemed almost… deferential.

Bili led us deeper into the forest, into huge old pines and cedars and thick tangles of brush that I could not imagine Alfer did much hunting in. The forest was too wild here.

The deeper we went, the louder the trolls’ chanting grew, until I was certain the very trees were shaking with it. My knuckles were white around Bili’s reins, but I trusted him to take me wherever we were bound. Even had I wanted to flee, the trolls were packed too tight around us now, with a herd of elk the size of which I had never seen.

The trolls only began to part as they filled a sudden clearing, spreading about it in a circle, leaving Bili and myself in the middle, in the grey dark, alone. There was cold sweat on my back, but I held my breath steady, searching the clearing for some indication of why I was here.

The trolls fell silent, and in the absence of their voices, I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. My breath seemed painfully loud.

The figure that approached from the trees sat astride a huge bull elk, much older than Bili, his antlers somehow already losing their velvet, even though it was nowhere near the rut.It was only as the figure drew closer that I realized there was no velvet on the bull’s antlers at all—it was lichen, hanging in long chunks from the bare points, which were weathered and green.

The man who sat astride the bull—for I could see now he was a man—was older, though he had no beard. His hair was iron streaked with steel, and the braid he wore began at his forehead, marking him high as a king. It was long enough to be folded upon itself and tied to the nape of his neck in gold wire, with the middle section still hanging over his shoulder. Past his prime, but he carried himself the way a warrior did.

His face was lined with scars as much as age, and he greeted me with a smile that was as much a leer as anything else. “Vulgafra,” he said, “so good to finally meet you.”

When he turned so that his bull stood alongside Bili, facing the opposite direction, I saw that his feet were bare, and that the right one was twisted.

The clubfooted god.

I looked up and met his gaze. Weta’s eyes were as black as a raven’s, and twice as sly. “What do you want with me?”

Weta laughed, and it shook the forest. “Blunt. I see why they like you. He never did have a taste for dancing with words.” He waved a hand at me. “Come. Play a game with me.” He swung down from his bull’s back, and I followed suit. There was a tree stump I had not noticed before, worn smooth as a tabletop. From the pocket of his coat, Weta produced a deck of cards in a silver case, and sat cross-legged on one side of the stump, gesturing for me to sit across from him.

I watched him shuffling the cards, and thought of Todd complaining when the soldiers he spent the nights cavorting with emptied his pockets for him. I had little I was willing to risk in gambling with gods.

“You know how to play King’s Court, I hope?” Weta asked, his teeth gleaming like a snow lion’s. “A lady of such circumstance as yourself—it would be a bitter shame if you couldn’t play.”

“I know the game.” Best to keep my guard up, I thought. Best to keep my eyes open.

The trolls watched us in eerie silence from the trees, shadowy forms with sparkling eyes. Bili was in remarkably good behavior, standing next to Weta’s bull. Weta shuffled the cards, and spread them before us. “What are we gambling over?” I asked.

“Questions, of course,” Weta said. “For every round you win, you get to ask me any question you like. The same for me.”

“Must I answer truthfully?”

Weta’s grin spread too wide across his face. “Of course not. But if you lie, so shall I.”

“You could lie even if I did not,” I countered.

“True,” Weta said, “but she would be unhappy with me, and for the moment, I would prefer if we remained friends.” Weta leaned across to look me in the eyes. “He is not the only one who sees promise in you, Vulgafra.” His eyes seemed to absorb any light that fell upon them. “Do we have a deal?”

I looked down at the cards before me, and picked up my hand.

King’s Court is a complex game, one that requires a quick mind that can assess several possibilities at once. It’s a favored game of nobility in Sarenn and beyond, one which my father had only allowed me to learn because it kept me from tormenting my tutors for a few hours every day. In general, he disapproved of gambling, but my skill for it had, upon occasion, greased the wheels of a few trade deals, and so he frowned over it a little less.

I had played against my share of skilled opponents, but with Weta, I was careful.

“Tch, come now, Vulgafra,” he said, “wars are not won with shields alone.”

“And yet many lives are lost for lack of one,” I said. “Your move.”

The first round went to Weta. The trolls chanted his name three times, and again went silent. For a moment I saw not the old man but a young one, the kind who might be daring enough to steal from Ima Spinna. He was soon gone, the old battle-hardened man in his place once more. Weta put his elbows on the stump, leaning over the cards. “Who are you?”

I blinked. “My name—”

“Not your name,” Weta said. “Who are you?”

I gazed at him, pondering my answer. “I am a daughter of Anar,” I said, “I am a granddaughter of Liane, descended of wolves. I am the mother of the last son of Corasin Forset, and I am the witch who brought the Winter Wolf to Morhall.”

Weta grinned. “Some witch,” he said, “who knows nothing of that craft except the name of my bloodbrother.”

“It is what they call me,” I said.

“They call you wrong.” Weta put his hands flat on the stump. “You are no witch. You are something else.”

“Tell me what I am, then,” I said, annoyed, but Weta held up a finger.

“Ah, ah,” he said. “First, you must win.”

Again, I lost, again, the trolls chanted Weta’s name. It called to mind some saying, about how when you were gambling with a god, it was best not to bet anything you didn’t want to lose.

Weta flipped the king card between his fingers, the red face of the king flickering in and out of view. “What do you want, Vulgafra Anarsdaughter?”

I considered my answer, trying to guess what exactly it was he was asking. “I want Saren to be free,” I said at last.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll have to win another hand to ask me that,” I replied, and Weta laughed and shuffled the cards together.

This time, I was the one who threw the king card down, his solemn red face seeming almost to shine in the moonlight. The trolls chanted “Vulgafra!” three times, and I considered which question to ask. I could not be sure I would be able to ask all the questions I had, so I could not squander the opportunity. More, I had to ask it in a way that could not be wiggled around. I looked up, my fingers on the card. “What does the Wolf want me to do?”

“Three kings will die on your account,” Weta said, his thumb under his chin. “The first already has. The second will before two winters have passed. And the third—a son of Liane will be the one who fells him.”

“But what am I to do?” I pressed.

Weta smiled. “When the Wolf howls, so will you.”

That was no answer at all, but Weta was already shuffling, and the next hand begun.

King’s Court is a game that belongs to the player who seizes the best hand from their opponents. With only two, it is difficult to win more than one hand in a row, and for a third time I lost to Weta. “If Saren were free, as you want it to be, what would that mean?”

The air was cold, and my patience was waning, but I did not want to give a hasty answer.  “I would have no more kings,” I said. “The people of Saren must create a new way of living together.”

Weta seemed to ponder that a moment, and nodded, shuffling the cards.

I had the sense, when I won that round, that Weta had allowed me to win. “What do you want with me?” I demanded.

Weta smiled. “I want a woman who will shake the world, Vulgafra.” He stood, signaling that our game was over. “I have a gift for you.”

I watched him, wary. “In exchange for what?”

“A negotiable price,” he replied.

#

I did not remember how I had returned to Thralduslodge when I woke. A dream, I thought, until I saw it.

Hanging by a leather strap from the back of the chair where my coat was thrown, an old ivory horn, its trumpet carved to resemble the head of a wolf.

I threw the blankets back to find my feet dirty, and had to draw in a breath.

I looked back to the horn. When the Wolf howls, so will you. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Muras or Todd, and wrapped the horn in one of my underskirts, hiding it in my bag. I pulled a robe over my nightdress, and gathered up my clothes to take myself to the lodge’s women’s bath, fed by the hot springs the lodge had been built over.

I scrubbed the dirt from my feet and sat on the edge of the bath, the steam making sweat roll down my back. I thought on a touch that felt like fire and warmed me to the bone, kisses that landed like lightning.

I like you, Vulgafra. Shame you aren’t actually a witch.

Three kings would die on my account, he said. Corasin was the first. ‘A son of Liane’ would fell the third. One of my sons? Or my brothers? And how or why? I had more questions than I had begun with, but I did not think I would be seeing Weta again any time soon. He had played his part, now I was supposed to play mine.

Whatever my part was.

I washed my face and limbs, grateful that the heat took the ache out of my shoulders, and when I was dressed I found my way to the hall where breakfast was laid out. Warm milk sweetened with honey and cloves, beef sausages, a bread that was baked with cheese and herbs and was still warm from the ovens. I was hungrier than I had thought, and ate until my belly ached and the sight of food sickened me.

“I wondered where you’d gotten off to,” Todd said, sliding onto the bench next to me. “Sleep well?”

I shrugged, and distracted him by filling his cup.

“I swear,” he said, amused, “you Sarenn serve milk at every meal.”

“Keeps the flesh on your bones when the winter’s cold,” I said. “Better get used to drinking hot milk.” I smiled at him, and sipped at my own, hoping that the heaviness in my stomach wouldn’t make me drowsy.

“Suppose I should,” Todd said, regarding his cup. “You suppose there are many spices at Morhall?”

There had used to be. I hadn’t appreciated, at the time, the amount of money and work that went into the food. I didn’t much trust Kressosi soldiers to keep up that effort. “Muras has enough pull to get them, if there aren’t,” I said. “Gods help us all, though, if the brewers are bad.”

We were to spend three days in Thralduslodge, giving our elk and ourselves a chance to rest, a time that I spent wandering the halls of the lodge, gazing at tapestries and carvings of ivory and cedar, bone and pine. Gods, heroes, histories and legends. I soaked it in like balm on my soul, this part of myself that I had been denied since I fled to Kressos.

I learned from Lord Alfer’s men that several Atsa Hasi clans had already passed through on their way north for the summer, following the mammoth herds, but being a much smaller group not bound to the schedule of mammoths, we would likely catch up with them in a few weeks.

I had forgotten that it was the Atsa who passed through Wetasur. I wondered, for a moment, if it was possible—but I pushed the thought aside.

Veland would be nearly seven, by now.

Lady Tyna occupied her time tending to the soldiers in our party. Travel runs afoul of some men’s bowels, and I regularly saw her dosing men with teas of lion’s tooth root, or mint, or a mix of astringents that would stop their bowels rather than move them. Something to tend to the cough he had picked up in the rain, something to clear the nasal passages, something to treat saddle sores. It seemed a rather unpleasant business to me, but it kept her busy, and thus away from myself.

In my meandering through the lodge, I was surprised to come across Muras, gazing contemplatively at an aged tapestry depicting a battle. “Tapestries are women’s work, aren’t they?” he asked, when he noticed me.

I nodded. “They are.”

“So a woman… spent months… years… on all this.” He gestured to the scene, men dying impaled on swords and spears, decapitated, relieved of their limbs, carried off to the halls of the dead. Certainly too much for a delicate Kressosi woman.

“Women are the history keepers of their families,” I said, “it was a task granted us by Mother Spider, as were the threads.” I glanced at him, and back to the tapestry. “Are you going to ask me what it depicts?”

“A battle, it seems.”

“Not just any battle.” I pointed to the army on the left, the ones portrayed as monstrous, nearly demonic, with long tongues and teeth, faces more like dogs than men. “The first time that men who called themselves ‘Kressosi’ crossed the Lor.”

#

The Wolf, the first time I truly laid eyes on them, was as all the stories said. Bigger than a bear, fur blinding white. A black nose snuffed at my red silks, and prodded me onto his back, where I sank deep into the coarse fur, and was sheltered from the wind.

She ran, then, though I could not have said how he knew the way, galloping through that featureless white. I held on because I did not know what else to do, because I believed that they would kill me, and I surely deserved it.

I don’t know how long he ran, but it was long enough that I lost myself to exhaustion, and when I woke, I was under the dark of a mammoth hide, by a fire, being tended to by an Atsa Hasi woman hardly older than myself, with a baby at her side. Her name was Pitalani, the granddaughter and apprentice of the clan’s healer.

She told me the Wolf brought me to them, that they were to protect and care for me. They called me Wolf Sister, and did not ask my name. They fed me. They gave me warm clothes to wear and they did not ask where I came from. They cared for me in their winter camp. They sold my silk dress and my slippers and when it became obvious I was pregnant they gave me a protective charm to wear, for the health of my child. A piece of ivory, carved in the shape of a wolf’s head.

For Hasi children, they are usually mammoths.

Veland was born in the spring, as the Hasi were preparing to move north again. He was a big baby, and it was a hard birth. I owe my life to Pitalani and her grandmother. They sang over Veland when they had washed him and put him in my arms, took the ivory charm from my neck and secured it in his swaddling. They asked his ancestors and theirs to protect him. To them, Veland was as good as their own kin.

They had offered a place among their clan for me, a husband who would provide for me and my boy. He was Pitalani’s brother, a little younger than myself, a skilled hunter who any Hasi woman would have been proud to call her husband.

I was not Hasi. I did not want to follow a mammoth herd on elkback for the rest of my life, and most especially I did not want to go north in the summer, back to Morhall, back to that cursed place I had already spilled so much blood to escape from.

I asked them to take care of Veland. If I was caught, at least they need never find him. If I was examined and shown to have given birth, they could never prove that the child had not been stillborn, or perished after. He would be safe with the Atsa, and he would be fed, and I would run as far away from Morhall as I could get, and bury the girl I had been in the northern snow where her bones would be scattered by the carrion birds.

Pitalani adopted him as her own son, a younger brother to her girl, who was just ready to be weaned. I wept when I put him in her arms.

Liana Anarin died the day Morhall fell.

Lya Sargis was born the day I left the Atsa, and crossed the Lor into Kressos, with nothing but a bundle of Hasi clothes and the blood on my hands.

#

I found Lady Tyna packing up her medicines and tools the morning we were to leave Wetasur. “Do you require treatment for something, Miss Sargis?” she asked, not looking up. “Something for the bowels, perhaps? Headaches, poor sleep, your cycle?”

I gritted my teeth. “I need an examination.”

Lady Tyna paused, and looked at me. “For?”

“I’ve not had my cycle since before Nolsaford.”

“Ah.” She considered me again for a moment. “If I might inquire as to why you cannot simply wait to be sure—”

“I don’t know how well prepared Morhall will be for an infant,” I said. “I would rather be sure myself that… we are prepared.”

Lady Tyna nodded. “I was first trained as a midwife.”

“Your skills know no end,” I said dryly.

“Well, I could hardly convince the Kressosi of the usefulness of a female physician if I couldn’t also deliver their wife’s children,” she said, pulling a sheet from her bag so that if we were interrupted, my modesty wouldn’t be compromised.

“I suppose you’ve delivered Princess Arabel’s children.”

“I have. The ones that were born after I came to serve the throne, at any rate.” Her tone was different, now. Less purposefully irritating, I would determine later. She had adopted the tone of a professional physician.

I had never undergone this sort of examination, and was none too eager to have Lady Tyna to be the first to perform it for me, but nor was I eager to ask Lord Alfer’s healer, who looked old enough to be my great-grandmother, and had frigid cold hands. Lady Tyna, I noted, warmed her hands at the coalburner before she began.

“Well,” she murmured, sitting back when the examination was over. “Congratulations, Miss Sargis.”

I swung my legs off the cot and pulled my riding skirts on once more, wondering when I would tell Muras and Todd.

“Have you been pregnant before?” Lady Tyna asked.

“Yes.”

“Were you given to morning sickness?”

“No.” I had been blessed in that regard.

“Any other particular maladies that you noticed?”

I tried to remember. Both my previous pregnancies had been so swallowed up by their circumstances—my fear, with Veland, and my desires to leave, with Kip—that I could scarcely recall anything else. “I couldn’t much sleep, toward the end. Kicked too much.” Both my boys had seemed determined to burst their way out of my ribs. My mother had complained of the same, with me and my brothers.

“Hm, I’ll have to see what I can do about that. Not much I can do to quiet the child, but perhaps I can get you to sleep in spite of them.” She shrugged her shoulders. Very carefully, she asked, “was your previous child… did they thrive?”

“Yes. They were healthy.”

Lady Tyna nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”

#

Of Corasin’s other wives, one took particular objection to me.

Princess Solema’s family was Aziran in origin, but had settled in Saren some generations back and sworn fealty to the king. They were still considered new, among the nobility, and perhaps that was what made Solema so determined to hold as much of Corasin’s favor as she could, which—by the time I arrived—must have been quite difficult.

Of each of Corasin’s twelve other wives, Solema was the only one who had borne no children.

The threat that I represented may have been too much for her to bear. I became pregnant during my second year at Morhall.

I was poisoned shortly after it became known, and though I survived, the child did not.

The truth is that I am not and have never been certain that it was Solema who poisoned me, but it was to her that everyone looked and cast their accusations.

I was kept in solitude, while her trial was held. Only my mother, who had come from Arborhall to visit me, was permitted to see me. Corasin claimed it was for my protection.

Whatever evidence was found or testimony given, it was enough that the lawyers Solema’s father sent were not able to protect her. She was guilty not just of attempting to murder a wife of the king, but of successfully murdering one of the king’s children. Neither crime could go unpunished, and together, they had to be answered.

I was brought out of solitude to witness. All the wives were gathered on the walls of Morhall. To warn us, I think.

Solema was cast out of the gates, with no coat, no furs, no shoes. It was only just after midwinter, and the wind was so fierce that it cut under even the bearskin I wore. I cannot imagine what it was like for Solema.

The townsfolk were forbidden to shelter or aid her, and were in fact encouraged to drive her out. I remember tears freezing to my lashes, and I could not watch, but I knew I was not permitted to look away, so I let them freeze my lashes together, and obscure my vision.

She died of exposure, and because the court had determined her a murderer, her body was left for carrion. Her spirit would never know rest, would never reach the halls of the dead.

I was violently ill, for weeks after. I couldn’t sleep. I could barely eat. My mother says that in that time the flesh melted off my bones like candle wax. She had the mirrors removed from my chambers, I was such a grim sight, she feared seeing my reflection would only hasten my death.

I remember a dark room, a fire in the hearth, and an old woman with bony fingers that hurt because I had no flesh left to protect my limbs. Someone held me up, in front of the fire, and the old woman burned herbs on the coals, herbs that made me choke, and cough, and the old woman sought to cast the ghost out of me, to drive Solema back into the wilderness once more.

I recovered after that, but I do not believe Solema was ever driven from my bones. I believe she burrowed deeper, buried herself in the secret halls of my heart. I believe she found our common cause, made her mind one with my own.

Our feud was not with each other, and it never had been.

Our hate burned in my chest, hot and fierce, the aching desperate need to exact our revenge on the man we called our husband.

#

The sun shone warm and bright that morning. The wolf skin was too hot to wear, as was my coat, so I rode with it across the front of my saddle. The fur seemed even brighter in the sunlight, and I was glad to be traveling again.

We took the road through the forest, and it was in leading our little party I spied a clearing I recognized, and hesitated.

“What is it?” Muras asked. He had been riding by my side, though at a distance, as Bili seemed to be in an especially foul temper that morning. I had been forced to prevent him from charging or kicking the men in Lord Alfer’s stables no less than half a dozen times before I was able to get him outside.

I had not told him anything about my meeting with Weta. However charitable he might have been toward my beliefs, I could not fathom that he would believe it was anything but a dream. Gods were not real to Muras the way they were to me. “Nothing,” I said, “just… a peculiar feeling. As if I’ve been here before.”

We were bound due north, to an old trade road that would be dotted not so much with towns as places where one could find taverns and brothels, which supported the small villages nearby.  Even with that, it would be a lonely journey, and we would spend more than a few nights camping along the road when we were too far from any such place by nightfall.

Very occasionally when I was young, my father had traveled with trade caravans out of Arborhall. He was a restless man, he had been his father’s third son, and had hoped to sail on Anarin trade ships, before his elder two brothers died, one in battle and the other of a fever. Now that he was lord, the trade caravans were as far as he allowed himself to roam from his responsibilities, leaving Arborhall in the care of my mother.

He liked to take Julas and me with him. Corvin and Tatton were too young, but Julas and I learned to ride alongside those caravans, practiced our Trader’s Tongue, and amused our father with our delights in ‘discovering’ new places. This particular route I had never taken with father, because he deemed it too far to take his children, and too long a journey for him to be away from home. Still, I could see in my mind the maps on which this road had been drawn, and once upon the road, it would not take much to keep us on our course.

I knew what the way to Morhall was. It was the cursed star I set my compass by.

If it is true that a corpse buried incomplete, or not at all, haunts the earth forever, then I was returning to the place where Corasin was buried without his head, bearing the child of the man who had taken it off.

[talialevine]

You Know Not To Disobey

In the beginning of her novel, Women Who Run With The Wolves, Clarissa Pinkola Estes writes, “Wildlife and the Wild Woman are both endangered species. Over time, we have seen the feminine instinctive nature looted, driven back, and overbuilt. For long periods it has been mismanaged like the wildlife and the wildlands… throughout history, it has been plundered or burnt… natural cycles forced into unnatural rhythms to please others.” I include this quote because I believe that any woman, when looking at how the concept of womanhood has defined and shaped her life, would feel as though a greater force has always been working against her. For this is how I have felt my entire life. Womanhood has mostly been defined for me in my twenty-four years of life on this Earth, yet I have never wavered in my exploration to discover others who share my own definition. In this way I have looked at the concept of womanhood differently as I embark on different periods in my life. This short memoir is dedicated to sharing my vulnerabilities as I have experienced them as a young girl, and as a woman, and the ways in which those vulnerabilities have defined and shaped the way I look at womanhood.

When I was ten years old I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. While my father played an absent role, my mom was hyper-controlling. She would check my testing kit every week, eventually causing me to fake my numbers with control solution in order to please her. Both my parents tried to limit my activities in fear of my Type 1 getting out of control. This taught me that in turn, my life was limited and I would never be able to do the things “normal children” could.

I was taught how a woman is “supposed to be” from a young age. Being a daughter of two post-World War II generation parents I grew up in a household of my parent’s making. As Dr. Estes writes, the “post-World War II generation grew up in a time when women were infantilized and treated as property… parents who abused their children were simply called ‘strict,’ when the spiritual lacerations of profoundly exploited women were referred to as ‘nervous breakdowns,’ when females who managed to slip the collar for a moment or two of life were branded ‘bad.’” Although the world began to progress, parents growing up in this era had clear morals and values instilled into their way of life, and this significantly affected the ways in which I was raised, and how my shortcomings were handled by my parents. When I disobeyed, my father took an authoritarian approach. Although my father never hit me, he had a particular style of punishment that was terrifying to my sensitive young self. He liked to back me into a corner, so I would have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I recall once running from him and barricading myself in my bathroom (no doors had locks on them in my home growing up) with furniture to try to keep him out. When he finally got to me he would point his finger in my face and grit his teeth. My father taught me that obedience was key, and lack of, was the ultimate betrayal. Throughout this, my mother was silent. She too, was taught that disobedience of her husband was unacceptable. So she would put her head down and say nothing.

A Film on Family Life in the 1950′s

When I was fourteen years of age, my family travelled to Akumal, Mexico, as we did every holiday season since I was little. We went with some dear family friends, whose children were the same age as my brother and I. When we rented a golf cart to drive around the village, my father warned me not to drive as you had to be sixteen to get behind the wheel. However, one day as my father and I, along with Mary and Rick (her father) drove home in the golf cart, Mary asked if we could drive back into town without our fathers to check out a store. Rick said that was fine, and my father did not protest, in fact, he said nothing. We dropped them off at the condominium complex and drove back to the store. Mary didn’t find what she was looking for and so we got back into the golf cart and started to drive back towards the condo, however we stopped suddenly when we saw a blue van speeding towards us, the same style that my father had rented. As the van parked, my father stormed out. He ran towards me. His face was red, his eyes were crazy, and he grabbed me violently by the arm. Mary, Rick, and I all protested at once.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” he said.

“Mick, please, it was my fault!” Rick pleaded. My father forcefully dragged me into the car, as I was not going willingly.

“You are never to disobey me, you knew what I said,” my father stammered through gritted teeth.

“Dad, Rick said I could go, you didn’t hear -” I tried, but my father told me to shut up, and I did as I was told. We drove back to the condo in silence, as I tried to hold in my sobbing. He parked and opened my door, grabbing me once more by my wrist.

“Dad, stop, you’re hurting me!” I cried. He started walking faster, so I could barely keep up with him, and every few steps I would slip and fall. He didn’t stop, he continued to drag me all the way through the outdoor lobby, and all the way up three long flights of stairs to our condo. When we got through the door he physically threw me into my room.

“You are never to disobey me again, you hear?” He asked.

“Fuck you,” I said through sobs. His eyes flickered, like I had set something off in his body, something violent and uncontrollable.

“You will stay in here until you apologize,” he said and locked the door from the outside so I couldn’t escape. About five minutes later I could hear Mary and Rick arguing with my father. He told them to leave. I still had my cell phone so I called my mother, hysterical. Her response?

“Well you knew better than to disobey him.” She hung up.

Years later my therapist and I went over this story with my father, hoping to receive some means of reconciliation. He told me, “Sometimes you have to forgive yourself, and I have forgiven myself.” This incident along with years of borderline physical and mental abuse, caused me to view my womanhood as something that made me less than. It showed me that I was not important, my suffering did not matter, and my only job in this world was to obey the men who sought to control me.

After my grades were unsatisfactory for my father’s liking in my junior year of highschool, a similar event unfolded. This time, his words affected my future. He told me I would not get into college, “hell with these grades you wouldn’t even get into CU,” he said. He told me if I didn’t get my act together I could end up in the street, as I certainly would not be welcome in his household. My mother watched me cry, and she watched as my father told me crying was weak, so stop it. I stopped crying, went into my room and swallowed every pill I could find. I passed out, pissed my pants, and by the time my mother came into the room to check on me my blood sugars were lingering dangerously low. I spent two days in the hospital. The doctors wanted to admit me to the psychiatric clinic and put me on suicide watch, but my father protested. He told them he was a doctor and he was taking his daughter home. I was released “Against Medical Advice”.

When I woke up in my bed the following morning, I was covered in sticky patches. I had a large bandage where medical staff had tried to place the IV while I was unconscious. There were two plastic medical wristbands on each of my wrists, stating my name and what I was admitted for; attempted suicide. My father was the first to notice I was awake. He told me breakfast was served and to please meet him in the greenhouse, where our dining room table was. Groggy and confused, I walked into the greenhouse. My father, mother, and brother had already started eating. Bagels, lox, cream cheese, tomatoes, egg-whites, onions, and orange juice were all laid out beautifully on the table. I sat down and my father started speaking.

“We know you didn’t really want to kill yourself,” my father said, pausing to swallow some OJ, “and we know you did it to get back at us.” I didn’t say a word. Neither did my brother or my mother.

“So,” my father continued, “we want you to set up a plan to move on and let us know how you plan on getting back on track in school.” He continued eating his bagel. When I didn’t respond, he said, “Understood?” I nodded and left the table. It was never brought up again. Not once. To this day we do not talk about it or acknowledge it ever happened. Which is fitting, given how the next seven years of my life have played out.

This early exposure to rules regarding how women are supposed to act dictated how I viewed myself in the world. I did not feel I was allowed to speak up when wrongdoing was inflicted. I felt that my sexualization in the eyes of men and women was to be taken as a compliment. I was promiscuous through college, craving attention from others in order to prove my self worth. Freshman year, when I met a group of girls who accepted me, I felt like I had finally found my place in the world. These girls had a group of guy friends, a year older but five times as rowdy. They hosted wild parties on the hill and I was grateful to be liked by them. As Sophomore year rolled around, the girls and I moved into a house together. We frequently partied with the group of boys, and eventually each and every one of my roommates had slept with one or more of them, everyone except me. I began to receive unwanted attention from the boys, as I assumed they were aware that I was the only girl in the house that had not been “conquered” by the boys. One boy in particular, Nick, who had an ongoing relationship with Maddie, one of my roommates, began to show a particular interest in me. He would corner me at parties and ask for “just one kiss”. Each time someone else intervened, reading the uncomfortable situation. The first few times I laughed girlishly and tried to play the situation off casually, however, soon I developed a concrete disliking for Nick, one I was extremely verbal about both to Nick and Maddie.

One night all the girls in the house decided to go out, but I had a test the next day and decided to stay in. A few hours later I heard footsteps and loud noises upstairs. At first I assumed the girls had come home early but I soon identified the source of the voices; Nick and Lucas, another boy from the house. They started banging on Mikela’s door, shouting for her. We had been chewed out the day before for throwing a party at our house that disturbed our neighbors, so I immediately ran upstairs to calm them down. They were huge coke-heads, and they were fucked up.

“Talia!” Nick cooed.

“Please be quiet, Mikela and Maddie aren’t here,” I said.

“So you’re here alone?” Nick asked.

“Yes,” I said annoyed, not realizing my mistake. Nick smiled.

“Well,” he said taking off his shirt and walking downstairs, “Let’s have some fun!”

He crashed down the stairs and I followed, hoping to get him to leave. Lucas stayed upstairs. I told Nick to leave. He did not. He did the same song and dance I was getting so used to. Again, I refused his advances. But this time, there was no one to intervene, and he got mad. He slammed my body into the kitchen cupboards. He told me to obey him, words I was accustomed to adhering to. He went into my room. I only wanted him to leave. I told him this. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone, just please leave. He smiled, and I knew what was going to happen next. He knew what was going to happen next. And I let it happen.

I didn’t tell anyone for weeks. My roommates only knew Nick had been violent because of the damage they inflicted to the house. I slowly stopped going to my classes. Planned out how I was going to end it all. I would walk up towards Chautauqua and drown in the lake. Finally I told my best friend, Emily. Then I told my mom. She sent a cheesecake from New York and a package from Europe, and arranged for me to see a therapist. She did not want me to prosecute. My father and I have never spoken about the incident. When I finally told my other roommates, it was only because they were planning on going out with Nick that evening. At first they were sympathetic, then we never talked about it again. They continued to hang out with Nick (you can’t make this up).

Why Society Defends Rape

 I eventually dropped out of school. I went to a recovery center for five days in Arizona, but they drugged me heavily and most of the meetings were for drug addicts and alcoholics. I moved back in with my parents in their home in Arizona. They let me stay there for about five months before they let me know they were disappointed with my progress and I would need to go back to school and move out, which I did. I went back to school for one year. Then I dropped out again. After months of suicidal thoughts, I decided to leave Colorado, and Boulder in particular, for good. I moved to Arizona and got a job working at a clothing boutique. About a year later I decided to re-enroll in online courses.

I am now finishing my degree and am set to graduate from CU Boulder in August of this year. I have not overcome my past. I have a lot more work to do in order to become a stronger woman. I do not feel strong, but I am alive. Perhaps that is the secret of life; to endure.

My story is not over. The concept of womanhood that has defined my youth, will not define my life. As Dr. Estes writes, the Wild Woman is an endangered species, but I am a Wild Woman, and I will not be tamed.

[megriot]

The human body is definitely a work or art.

So far, all my tests have come back one by one, fine. My gentic mutation is a nonfactor, the only thing that has come back low is a vitamin D deficiency that is fixed with a simple over the counter med. But i did find out that your blood type has a lot to do with this. Which, lets be real should be common sense when you think about it, but fun fact here; when two people come together and make a baby, it all starts with the blood. And i have the Bad one. At least for pregnancies. So my bloodtype is O-, which is the type that all blood banks and transfusions want. Cool by me. Whats Not cool, is that since im negative and majority or the people in the world are positive, when i get pregnant my body attacks my babies because it thinks its an infection because of the positive blood in it. So its a very high possibility that my system has created these Antibodies to continue to do this. Over, over, and over. Each time getting more and more of them. So 7 miscarriages later, god only know if/how much of these antibodies are in my system.

So how is this fixed? This is where it gets fun.

Its a shoy called Rhogam. Which is supposed to stop the antibodies from attacking. And ill need if/whenever i get pregnant. Every time. BUT its not a guarantee. Like this last one. I got the shot, but i may have gotten it too late considering NO ONE HAS EVER FUCKING TOLD ME THIS out of all the tests and doctors ive seen. Which you can about imagine is annouing as all fuck.

And now we cant test for antibodies in my system till the end of January because of the rhogam injection i got October 1st has to take 12 weeks to clear and give correct results when pulled :) *wooh*

As far as therapy went, i really liked this woman. We spent 2 hours talking. And she didnt blink an eye. We talked about the miscarriages, we talked about You, Adam, Donnie, Momma, inside feelings, drugs, struggling to stay clean, wanting to give up, wanting to be better, wanting to punch God in the face; basically unloaded about fucking everything.

And if i didnt cry enough to flow a small river, i didn't fucking cry at all.

But just talking about everything, idk what it did. I havent figured out what wounds, if any, its busted open. I went the fuck off about how much I hate Adam. And want him to burn a very painful death, and still being fucked up from those 2 years. I talked about all the regret i had with you. All the things i should have said, all the situations i should have stepped back from and thought through more, and ups and downs from our 10 years. We went on to acknowledge the fact that my seld esteem is complete shit *duh..* and how Donnie scares the shit out of me. He actually married me, but every day im waiting for this to all be too much ans him walk.

How im not worthy of love. How i feel useless. How i dont understand what i did so wrong to have my body fail me time and time again. How all the people who dont deserve shit always gets everything they want.

I mean, i get it. Ive done fucked up shit in my life. And i have a ton of regrets and apologies ill never be able to clear or say, but does that mean this is the punishment? That somewhere along the line i fucked up so bad that God just kinda said 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ nahh, you dont get this.

The only thing ive truly ever wanted out of life is to hold my child. To look into the eyes of a baby and know that this undying connection is something i created, the purest part of me that i can hold and mold and protect for the rest of my life.

So is all of this just a sign that im too fucked up, too broken, to have that fufilled? I dont know yet. Or understand why. But the only thing i can do right now is wait. And waiting literally feels like fucking years every day i dont get to move forward in this. And it hurts. So bad.