#the ultimate trickery

[nerdtboytheodore]

the fact that brad came back at the start of S3 and he was acting all creepy and mysterious and like "I'm reformed" bc he's Brad he's obviously lying and then. he was nice. he got all that bad guy prison street cred and became a nice guy.

[archivestarlyht]

i think sszefryn is very much ‘nice is not good’ because his agreeableness is very much a facade. he knows that if he doesn’t make himself palatable to others it’s going to be more difficult to survive, especially on the surface with no connections. he embraces and accepts a need to perform to endure. not that that’s terrible or he’s terrible. he just tends to be suspicious and has no problem with cruelty etc if it means his own survival, even if it’s not his first choice.

[lambert-simnel]

I have so many game of thrones hot takes but the two that piss people off the most irl is

Dany was set up for the “power corrupts” storyline from day one, she consistently made choices that were cruel to maintain power or to enact revenge. she had good intentions but always had a tyrannical streak that threatened to undermine those intentions and ultimately, it did

Jon being a Targaryen was always supposed to lead to nothing, that’s the point, neither him or Dany are “the prince who was promised” because the prophecy is false the entire thesis of the series is the Targaryens are not mythical gods who rule by divine rights they are just a family with a particular skill (dragon riding) who took power because they had access to nuclear weapons. The night king is defeated by a non prophesied person because it never mattered in the first place. Jon being a Targaryen never mattered that was the point!

[sunderwight]

SVSSS "no Abyss" fluff AU where Shen Qingqiu just keeps accidentally proposing to a full grown disciple Luo Binghe in ways that don't register to him, but do register to Binghe, but Binghe also knows that his Shizun is clueless and doesn't actually mean it, so he's trapped in a hell of constantly getting what he desires most and fighting the urge to take advantage of the situation in order to actually claim it.

For instance, it turns out that PIDW has a knock-off version of Valentine's Day thanks to one really ill-planned VIP chapter. Shen Qingqiu found that one so egregious even he mostly scrubbed it from his mental records, but the long and short of it is that in the PIDW chocolate exists, but it's a symbolic treat that is only meant to be given to someone you intend to marry.

Of course, Shen Qingqiu discovers chocolate in PIDW and IMMEDIATELY hands it over to Luo Binghe, because he wants to see how Binghe's magnificent cooking skills can utilize this ingredient. Also he wants bon bons and this seems like the only way he's gonna get any in this lifetime.

Naturally, Binghe does make delicious bon bons, all the while fighting down the urge to be like "you proposed so we're getting married now, no take backs!"

Shizun eats the chocolates and Binghe counts slowly backwards from ten and reminds himself that getting what he wants by way of trickery would ultimately deny him what he wants most, which is for Shen Qingqiu to choose him of his own volition.

And of course, this shit just keeps happening. Somehow Shen Qingqiu keeps "forgetting" (read: subconsciously repressing) the little details about various proposal customs in PIDW (of which there are A LOT thanks to all the wife acquisitions) and proposing to Binghe almost constantly. This part of the world has a special ritual proposal wine? Better give some to Binghe! This demonic cult requires one to present a specific monster kill to their intended? Shen Qingqiu just so happened to kill one such monster himself and now he's given it over to Binghe to claim the parts (Binghe's cultivation would make better use of them!) They're visiting a neighboring sect where couples traditionally tie their wrists together with a particular type of rope as a symbol of engagement? Somehow, someway, Shen Qingqiu is going to find a good reason to tie himself to Binghe with the betrothal rope.

Not only is this dance giving Luo Binghe intense mixed feelings, and causing him to lie awake at night trying to figure out if Shen Qingqiu somehow does actually know what he's doing, and wants Binghe to bamboozle him into a marriage (or is that just wishful thinking??), it also causes him ever-more stress whenever SQQ goes on a mission with anyone else.

Especially Liu Qingge.

What if he does the clueless not-proposing to Liu Qingge? What if Liu Qingge proves to be less strong-willed than Luo Binghe (absolutely possible) and "accepts"? What if he's stupid enough to not figure out that Shen Qingqiu is a clueless idiot, and thinks it's genuine?

Shizun might marry him just to avoid having an awkward conversation!

Anyway things come to a head when finally, for once, Luo Binghe is the one who does the accidental proposal. And this time Shen Qingqiu does notice, and he gets all flustered and scolds Binghe to "be more careful" and "not waste such gestures on this old master, or anyone Binghe doesn't want taking advantage!" and Luo Binghe, who has aged one thousand decades in the past few years, still nobly resists the urge to lay out all the times Shizun has made this exact same "mistake" towards him and instead just confesses. Shoots his shot. Now or never!

He almost immediately regrets it because he had a whole plan for how to slowly ease Shizun into the idea over the course of several years, and he's prepared to be rejected now that he's fucked that up. Because he knows his master is delicate about stuff like this. Why else would he be so atypically obtuse?

But, well. Shen Qingqiu always said that the most realistic thing about the harem was that no one in their right mind would turn down a marriage proposal from Luo Binghe.

So he just, uh, says yes?

Binghe's like, you mean this whole time all I had to do was be the one to ask?!

But also he's really too happy to give a shit about the particulars either. They will have a beautiful wedding! No take backs. If SQQ gets cold feet then Luo Binghe has a list and compiled evidence of fifty million marriage proposals from him, so now he definitely has to follow through!

[scalpho]

zac oyama PCs and kindness unbefitting of their station, of themselves. colin having violence as basically his only skill but refusing the kind of violence they committed under the fda's orders and deli's pursuit of it that follows; lapin casting fly on theo instead of himself, a moment where he could have guaranteed himself an out but instead chose to better the rest of the party's chances, ending in his own death; pib being a trickster spirit (and thus should be a certified piece of shit) but having all his trickery guided and motivated by his ultimate goal to help - to help his friends and whatever pathetic men he decides to take under his wing along the way. does anyone understand what the hell i'm talking about over here

[greelin]

good afternoon. thinking about how even during the heat of the moment astarion’s probably hyperaware of the bite marks he leaves. because, ultimately, he never wants them to look like the ones he has that have been there for hundreds of years but still were so obviously a byproduct of brutality. a cruel reminder that he could not see, thankfully, but something he knows is there. can still feel.

even the first night you let him drink your blood. even when he very easily could go overboard and just keep going because he’s never been allowed to feed and be fed and has merely starved and got by for centuries. he tries. you’re saying his name and pushing at his shoulder far too gently for someone having their lifeblood drained, someone closer to death than they realize, and he pulls away far less delicately than he should. but you don’t look pained. you look tired. patient. concerned. for him. like he was ever the one at risk here, not your own safety. searching his face for something. you’re bloody but he does his best to clean you up. (not waste anything.) you can feel him hesitate whenever he gets close. see the way his eyes seem to want to look anywhere else besides your neck but also be drawn there at the same time.

and the next morning when you’re dazed and sporting twin punctures on the edge of your throat he finds himself repeatedly glancing at them. to him they do look raw. rough. he could have been more careful. he will be, if you ever let him again. but he won’t hold his breath. (not as if there’s any breath for him to hold, anyway.)

but you do let him. you welcome him. invite him in, every time, ever so patient. arms open and head tilted. smiling.

and that’s why he swallows his pride and shuffles off to shadowheart’s tent. hands clasped, smirk half-hearted, asking about salves, of all things. even with a raised brow and a few pointed comments, she still indulges. starts to make something for him but he interrupts and asks about the process. invested. which has her looking at him like he’s grown a second head. but she shows him. teaches him. and he’s eerily involved. rarely does he throw in any sort of remark. there’s no trickery afoot. it’s sincere.

and the next time (of course, there’s a next time, because you’re always so generous. with others but especially him, for whatever reason) when he feeds, licks you clean, laps up the remnants, you’re lightheaded but not lightheaded enough to not hear him rummaging around. feel his fingers (normally so cold but now warm. because of you. your blood fills him) swipe across the open wounds. and the stinging lessens. calms. whatever is there can’t be your own blood, because, surely, he got all of it. and it feels different. thicker. a balm on your aching skin. you catch the scent of something floral, earthy. when you sit up, you’re certain you see him stowing away a small jar. and when he brushes the hair out of your face, another wave of that smell hits you. you almost want to say something.

but you don’t. because his eyes are wide and open in a way they normally aren’t, and you can feel his haze on your neck. searching. concerned.

warm.

[seat-safety-switch]

Ever think your job is futile, about to be replaced by high technology? I'm Ted Dialtone, master salesman for the Brother fax machine division. That's right. Fax machines. I bet you thought you were done with those suckers, and that's just what we wanted our competition to think. They ran away and made some dumb shit like "computers" that nobody actually wants. We sell sixty million of them a quarter.

You might ask yourself, surely this guy is a little biased towards the product he sells? Padding his numbers just a bit? Let me explain it this way: my wife and kids, in whatever state I left them before I started crossing the world endlessly in my quest to become the ultimate salesman, are eating very well because I am such a strong believer in the humble facsimile. Don't worry, they see me at Christmas. I bring them the greatest gift a father can offer: the newest Brother fax machines.

Folks think that it's easy to sell fax machines. You just go to the nearest government office and get drunk with the boss. Then, when their judgment is incapacitated, you make them sign a contract to buy a whole wad of colour multitransmits. Maybe take a few pictures for blackmail if they decide to go back on the deal. That might be how they do things over at Canon, sure, but we're beyond that kind of petty, cheap-assed, penny-ante trickery. We give the boss a rail of cocaine.

Why am I telling you all this? I'm looking for a new assistant. I can't do this job forever. No, it's not because the field is becoming obsolete. Folks will buy these machines until the sun explodes, I swear to your mother. My liver is starting to make concerning noises every time I down four travel margs in fifteen minutes at the airport Chili's. How do you get in touch, start your life on this new, exciting adventure? Email me your resume.

[moonbeammist]

The Peasant's Secret (Part 1)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

I don't give permission for any of my fanfiction to be posted, this is also cross posted on my account w/ Archive of our own :)

PAIRINGS: Feyd Rautha x Fem!Fighter!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: I drew heavy inspiration from the Dune Part Two Soundtrack, truly sets the mood and tone for the story if you wanna have a listen. I appreciate this community of writers/readers! Any feedback and thoughts are most welcome! The 1st chapter serves as Prologue, an introduction to your character and her world. 2 Chapters Total. Enjoy 💚

WARNINGS: (Mostly for 2nd Chapter): (Adults only 18+) DARK! profanity, extreme violence, torture, gore, sadism, masochism, dubious consent, erotic undertones, heavy petting, reader is a fighter who get's extremly hurt, bigotry against the poor, very immersive, intimacy, touching, feyd-rautha is his sick self, public humiliation, light smut

SUMMARY: “You did, Harkonnen.” You agree solemnly. “But what does it matter? Don’t you treat every untrained, unprecedented fighter the same here?” you pause, seeing his deep blue eyes flicker with interest. “Unskilled fodder to fuel your own ego?”

WORD COUNT: 2.2k words

PART 1 PART 2

You were in a colourless oasis. It wasn't really an oasis in the scenery sense; it was an oasis in the sense that it felt like a bottomless void, a strange, deafening dream. It was an oasis because it didn't feel like reality. A desolate vision to where no judging eyes would befall you as you threw your whole self, your body, into its ultimate test. That’s how they all made their mark here, isn’t it?

You reflect on Giedi Prime's obscure, bone-dry alternate reality to your home planet of Caladan - you were of peasant descent in the lush, grassy, biodiverse settlements. You and your mother had strengths in labour as rice planters, trading their services to the wealthy nobles in exchange for military protection. A life of labour and sweat in the rice fields, the economy depended on their work, as such, they had little free time.

Stepping foot into the outdoors, the crunch of your cheaply-made, scraggly brown boots is heard as you line up with the rest of the prisoners. The earth smelled of crust, rot, and blood. You somewhat know where you're supposed to end up as Harkonnen soldiers round you up, but at the same time, you haven’t got a clue where you’ll be settling before battle. Wide, dark tunnels arch over the sand like a protective roof against the beating black sun.  You've been given the finest privilege to represent your low-status family members in a brutal and bloody ceremony where this pale, ghostly Harkonnen House cuts you down, down into the dirt. A death deemed worthy. 

A death is worthy when you die with passion because you’re trying - kicking and screaming. It's a beautiful way to go because you feel everything.

The height of your human complexities is shown at the forefront - pushing yourself, testing yourself.. You who initially thought fighting was for those who have a reason to fight, like for political gain and power, defending your home and planets among the stars. However, you have never felt so alive, representing the absolute bottom of the barrel. What joy it would be to see an enemy fall from not hand-to-hand combat, not brute force, but peasant trickery. 

This is worth something.

That’s what you tell yourself. What else can you cling to? You were living for the cultivation of rice before you came here.

Horns erupt in a deep, haunting bass. The ground is shaking. Shaking with such strength that your feet stumble forward, knees scraping the grainy, white sand. Your hands bite into the sand. A guttural song emits from the speakers suddenly, the force of it hitting your chest like a bang. Your body stutters.

Your fellow no-name fighters eyes snap at your movements. Hushed chuckles erupt over the heavy bass. You feel slightly embarrassed as you quickly stumble back up and rub the grainy sand away from your knees and palms. Your eyes narrow.

This is all of your first times, all of your fellow fighters' first essential phases into proving yourself worthy to Harkonnens. Granted, you were vermin first, something to gawk at, something like cattle. As far as you heard from your briefing on the way here, this whole spectacle was based on a test round. If you pass your initial testing round, then - maybe, just maybe, you can live in comfort. There was not much more elaboration than that. Either get cut down, sliced down, gutted down -  or prosper. So why do you feel like you're the only one on edge? You’re in your head too much.

Because I might fucking die.

You swallow that thought down, burying it deep in your stomach, where it should stay.

Underneath the arena, there is a place where the Harkonnen soldiers stop - a small, enclosed burrow tucked away from sight, away from the audience members that fill the seats of the large dome-like sphere of the arena. Through the dark, enclosed area you can make out the bleached atmosphere stretched and rounded out, seeing several egg-like craniums darting up and down in the stands. Their eyes were like inky, beady pools of onyx - almost insect-like. They were thrashing in excitement, the low murmur of chatter and whooping heard.

You look around to your peers. There is nothing really notable about any of you. Dressed in meek wool, burlap, or loin cloth. Prepped with various weapon satchels latched onto waists or knees. You have no advanced shields or armour, that is true. As suicidal as that may seem against these elite brutes, It’s what you represent that really matters. The peasant trickery you have up your sleeve.

You were an only child born to common people. In the small moments, you would take to the hills with your mother and run and play. Your mother's long, flowing hair would crack like a whip against the wind behind her, in a game of “cat and mouse," as she would call it. You would try to grasp at the ends of her hair - your mother's high, sing-songy laughter echoing in the distance as you chased her.

You did not know your father - just that he was a passing tradesman who fell in love with your mother’s quirks and tenacity for adventure; in the odd breaks she could have them between planting rice grain. They spent 6 months together, you heard, and it was passionate. But he could not stay on this planet.

Your mother did not know if he was alive. But despite him leaving, she spoke fondly of him.  “He defied appearances. They thought of him as a simple, dull man in the trades, a grunt. But his intellect was his greatest secret.”

You supposed that maybe you were that small reminder of him to her, as her description of your father shadowed your mother’s slow moulding of your personality over the years. A weak, feeble rice labourer by appearances, always dressed in brown, murky colours to disappear. She did not want anyone to notice you at first glance; let that be your first safety. If they must stumble on you or pester your forgettable existence, you must keep up the act at first glance. You were scared, you were begging for your life like a common peasant. If they continue to prod and seek to damage or harm you, they would pry open the bottle of secrets that came spilling out of you in this fight-or-flight scenario.

You had a lot to learn and a lot to process as Caladan civilians. The threat of Caladan’s as well as other planets' potential hostile nature was something you were keenly aware of, a foot on your back of sorts, as you couldn’t do anything formidle to stop an enemy. 

The peasants, not permitted to use weapons or obtain shields or anything of the sort, could only offer you certain wisdom that was passed among the peoples. One they passed to your mother’s watchful eye and then onto you. They call it the peasant’s secret.

The art of dodging.

“Remember the game of cat and mouse?” You remember your mother’s voice barely over a whisper as she lay beside you one night in woolly sleeping bags on the soft greenery beneath you. The weather was hot enough to enjoy a night outside.  The flow of the river’s stream is heard against her.

You haven’t used the peasant’s secret in awhile. You primarily used it against your mother and your fellow people, as they would take turns throwing you into mock battles. They didn’t have any weapons, but they did collide, push, and throw themselves into your body at full speed, so you had to react quickly. 

They did push you to the limit. Bless them. Until you were an exhausted heap of limbs on the ground and had the wind knocked out of you.

You knew that wasn’t as valuable as practicing it against someone who genuinely wanted to kill you. You didn’t know if the peasant’s secret had successfully saved someone’s life against a brutal attack or if it was just used as a quick get-away.

So yes, you could fall into the trap of thinking you knew what you were doing when, in reality, it was based on instinct. Of course, the arena was a circle. A never-ending loop. Eventually, even though your stamina was now crafted to be well above average, you would eventually get tired. The peasant community of Caladan had a careful, pinpoint focus on the art of dodging rather than hand-to-hand combat or brute force, which made for a very interesting opponent, if you could even call it that. Most of the time, if you could, you were told to outrun them first. So your speed heavily improved. If they were just as fast, then you could begin your dance.

Now, you could finally put it to the test. To see how you fare, to see if it could actually prevent you from getting sliced and diced by the Harkonnens in the arena—albeit for a while. The main thing to keep in mind, as your mother had warned, was to keep your opponent on their toes, snapping not only their mental state but their body. Then, when the time is right, you steal their weapon and use it against them. Today you were permitted a small dagger, strapped and holstered on the outside of your thigh. Although you weren’t concerned about it, you told yourself you would use it as a last resort when they weren’t suspecting you to. You didn’t know how to dance with a weapon; you only knew how to bob and weave without one.

Count Fenring, the Siridar-Absentia of your homeworld Caladan, while the Atreides occupy the planet Arrakis, had dealings with the Harkonnens prior to your descent here. You were never meant to come here. But Count Fenring had called upon the rice labourers one day for a strange proposal. Gathering in the high-esteemed buildings and feeling out of place, your people had looked upon Count Fenring’s narrow, proud face. You knew him to be conniving and manipulative in nature, a renowned assassin, and the Emperor Shaddam’s right-hand man. He was neutral toward the labourers; as long as they kept up on the plantation of their planet’s rice, he had no issues. He would often make dealings with the noblemen and women of Caladan; it was very rare that the rice labourers were added to any conversation.

“House Harkonnen of Giedi Prime is seeking entertainment, to those willing-"  Count Fenring’s voice boomed, sitting atop his makeshift throne. 

His voice is cut off by your thoughts at the Planet’s name. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen of Giedi Prime, called your Count “The ambassador to the smugglers” in spice production. 

He continues. “I know you do not get to leave your trusted duties among the fields very often, but consider this a gift of sorts - whoever is able, and willing to be “battle entertainment” to the Na-barron of House Harkonnen, Feyd-Rautha, will be permitted to win your chance at freedom to travel to a new planet, a new experience.. You don’t ever have to return.”

An audible chorus of gasps are heard amongst your peoples. Hushed angry whispers fill the room. You gape at the vagrant display of lack of remorse for human life. You knew little, but House Harkonnen enjoyed pleasures in gore and sadism, is what you did know. What’s in it for your Count? This has to do with spice dealings.

“Freedom to die?”  a male voice questioned loudly. “You dangle freedom in the air as if House Harkonnen has any, and to dangle us in front of the Harkonnen brutes like meat!”

The crowd got louder and louder in frustration and opposition. The Count’s voice bellows as his army hits their swords to the ground in a clang to signify the rice labourers to quiet their naysayers. “Enough. To those who are not interested, you may leave. You are not forced to stay. To those that are, please remain.”

A number of your people shuffled out in a hurry, their bodies a large mass squeezing through the royal entryway. You blink. This is downright morbid.  You had never considered such a thing before, as you only knew your planet to be worthy of laying down your roots until the end of time.

You feel your mother reach for your hands. They are warm, and so is her eyes as she peers into the core of your being.

Your planet is beautiful -  access to bodies of lakes, rocky mountains, majestic trees and budding flowers, delicious rice... 

“You should go.” she mutters. “Live for us.”

Her words a grim truth. Brutal honesty. And that was enough for you.

A handful of the peasants stay alongside you. Your mother places her lips upon your cheek in a chaste kiss.  Your tear ducts well with water as her hand leaves your grasp. Somehow, you know it’s too late to turn back now. You don’t know what made you follow Count Fenring onto the ship and not look back. A chaotic chance for something other than field work? A plunge into absurdity?

You could try absurdity for a while, you decided.

PART 1 PART 2

[starcurtain]

What do you think about Sunday and Aventurine? and their interaction in 2.1, I know Sunday did what he had to do but I just have a strong dislike for him ever since. He is an interesting character though.

I mentioned on a previous ask that I wanted to talk about narrative foils/character parallels, and that ask mentioned Aventurine being similar to Robin and a little to Sunday. But I thought I'd combine that character foils idea with this post about Sunday because...

Aventurine and Sunday are Near Perfect Character Parallels

(Also sorry to Youtuber Fayato who I screencapped this image from; I literally couldn't find a single other good image of Aventurine and Sunday in the same frame!)

In media, the concept of the narrative foil refers to a character who contrasts another character; by setting the two characters and their plots side by side, the audience is better able to understand the traits of the central character.

And by setting two surprisingly similar characters in opposition to each other, it becomes very clear how even those facing similar circumstances can take diametrically opposed paths in life.

First, let's start with the basics:

Aventurine and Sunday are both characters whose real fathers were never in the picture, and who lost their mothers right in front of their eyes to traumatizing events.

They both experienced the violent deaths ("death" in Sunday's case) of their sisters.

They both were "rescued" by people who intended to use them by growing them ("grooming them" in Sunday's case) into a figure of authority.

They were both told they were "chosen ones" growing up. And yet ultimately this status as the chosen one is in doubt: Aventurine isn't sure if his family's faith is real, while Gopher Wood tells Sunday that Penacony's chosen should have been Robin all along.

They both became self-sacrificial, Aventurine through his obvious willingness to throw his life away, and Sunday through his plan to remain outside the sweet dream to be its keeper while everyone else got to live in "paradise."

They both are trapped by their situations, Sunday by his inability to leave the cage, Aventurine by his inability to accept the life he isn't able to throw away.

They both became the "villain" of their respective patches and both faced "death."

Personality-wise, they both strongly favor being in control, to the point that their scene together is an aggressive power struggle over each other.

This is how the "future" Aventurine describes himself:

Does it sound familiar? It should, since that's exactly how people describe Sunday.

But they also both prioritize their families, and they are equally altruistic at the core while seemingly self-centered on the exterior.

They both, of course, have the blessing of an aeon.

And here's where I'm going to take a massive tangent, but it's important: I do tend to be among those who think there is at least some connection between Ena, the Order, and Gaiathra.

I've heard all sorts of reasons that they can't be two different concepts for the same being, from the whole "Gaiathra is a goddess of trickery and that's not related to order" to the whole "the Order's followers worship with song while Gaiathra's followers specifically don't," but I think something that has been missing from the discussion of Ena and Gaiathra's possible connection is that "Order" as a concept has entirely different definitions depending on which cultural context you approach it from.

The most mainstream modern concept of "Order" is something that is imposed: A power from on high descends to quell the chaos of the mortal world, to "bring order" through guidance to humanity. This is very Abrahamic, very modern Christian, and that is reflected in the imagery surrounding Sunday. Sunday, as a manifestation of the Order's power, believes he will be able to uplift Penacony from the mire, free people from their unfulfilled desires and confusion, and bring about perpetual peace by enforcing his understanding of harmony on the populace trapped in the dream.

Sunday's Order is not the natural state of the world but something that must be carefully cultivated and maintained, a constant battle against the chaotic forces of life and its temptations. This type of "Order" promises an idyllic future, but at the cost of the present freedom of everyone who submits to the law, who must surrender their original fate for a structured sweet dream.

We understand this concept of "Order" because at its core, it's the one that modern societies largely embrace--ruling authorities establish laws that must be followed at all costs, even when they risk the freedoms of individuals, because they ultimately (supposedly) support a greater good. A majority of society adheres to the laws handed down from on-high, and life functions relatively stably.

Yet this conception of "Order" is predicated on the idea that the course of people's lives is decided first and foremost by the people themselves--which is why they can make mistakes, go astray, and need to be shepherded in the first place.

Without imposing structure through authoritarian power, this type of "Order" will crumble away in an instant, because this view assumes that rightness can only created by humanity, and that chaos--not order--is the natural state of existence.

Ena, who holds worlds tidily contained in her hands, who is tangled in puppet strings, who wears a hood like a nun or the Virgin Mary, and who is haloed like a Christian angel, clearly represents this definition of "Order" to a T.

But... this is not how humanity has always defined "Order."

It was not always taken for granted that people had the power of self-determination, and in fact, for many centuries and across many cultures, the concept of "the order of the world" was tied directly to the concept of destiny. Whether a volcano would explode and destroy your entire civilization, whether floods would swallow your city, whether the crops would grow or fail all depended on the pre-made decisions of supernatural powers, who were in turn often personified concepts of the natural world itself. What happened to any given individual, what twists and turns their life would take, whether they would achieve their dreams or not--all these aspects were also predetermined, decided not by the actions of the individual but by fate itself.

Thus, the world and everything in it has a natural order. Things may seem chaotic, they may even seem unbelievably horrible, but all events in existence unfold as they should. We may not understand why, but everything occurs in due course, woven into an endlessly repeating pattern on the fates' loom--spring becomes summer, life becomes death, disasters happen and are healed from, children are born and grow old. If it is your fate to die, you will. If it is your fate to fight and live, you will. To reject this natural order would be as futile as telling the sun not to rise.

The words "order" and "ordained" have the same origin.

Enter Gaiathra. First of all, she is the Star Rail equivalent of a pagan goddess--her worship exists separate of the confirmed existence of aeons, by an uncontacted and non-space-faring race. Even her description, being triple-eyed, evokes other "triple goddess" figures across history, both in modern interpretations (the triple goddess of Neopaganism) and in ancient mythologies (the three fates of Greece, the Tridevi of Hindu culture, etc.).

She is strongly associated with the natural world: The planet of Sigonia is said to be a manifestation of her very body, the rain is her blessing and acknowledgment, and she goes through a yearly cycle of death and rebirth (calling the cycle of the seasons to mind). She is said to be a goddess of both fertility and travel (likely in the sense of nomadic wandering by the time Aventurine was born). Avgin worship of the goddess manifests in the form of sacrificial cyclic knots.

Which might call to mind another pagan culture well-known for their cyclic knots: the Celts, whose famous Celtic knots represent cycles of eternity, unity, and the interconnected nature of life itself.

The Avgin prayer to Gaiathra focuses on elements of a person's life that all might be determined by "fate"--will your blood keep flowing, will your journey be peaceful, will your schemes stay hidden? It hopes that things will be as they should, that the future ahead of you is predetermined to be a good one, and that the cycle of life decided by the goddess will be in one's favor.

But while the Avgin hope for good things, they also strongly espouse embracing the reality of one's life, with suffering and hardships seen as manifestations of fate that should be accepted as facts of life. It is said that any society blessed by the Order ultimately falls--is it not the natural fate of all societies to one day fall? For mankind to return to the dust and be reborn anew?

Whatever will be, will be.

There is a reason--a logic--an order--to everything that happens.

I hope you can see where I'm going with this: While Sunday and Ena represent the concept of "Order" as a result of self-determination, a power "the strong" can wield to overcome the inherent chaos of reality, Aventurine and Gaiathra represent a different, older concept of "Order" (I can't help but see the entirely separate eye lurking behind Ena?): existence is not inherently chaotic but instead is foreordained, following endless orderly cycles life and death, weal and woe, rise and fall.

PHEW! Okay, so all of that to say Aventurine and Sunday make perfect parallels through a mirror darkly, even when it comes to the blessings they've been granted: One imposes order from on high; one continually rolls the dice despite knowing the inevitable outcome.

Both of their stories are entirely intertwined with the concept of fate, whether by opposing it...

Or accepting it.

And even at the end of Penacony, we leave both Sunday and Aventurine in precarious positions. Aventurine, while ostensibly "victorious," faces another roll of the dice immediately after Penacony, when his future as a Stoneheart is called into question. Yet "fate" comes through for him again--his bet, as always, comes true. His future isn't in question--it is the question itself. What's next? He finally wants to live to find out.

Sunday, meanwhile, ends Penacony's arc in a truly difficult place. He's virtually exiled from the only home he's ever known, a flightless bird tossed out of his cage into cold hard reality. He has to find an entirely new way forward and may even be forced to reckon with an entirely new definition of "Order" itself.

The parallels between these two characters are entirely intentional and very, very blatant, and I am exceedingly interested in seeing whether their paths diverge or continue to reflect similar fates moving forward.

So uhhh... that's what I think of Sunday? 😂

[magpod-confessions]

maybe it’s just me but i think it gets glossed over how much of a better fit for the spiral helen is than michael just from a character perspective. this isn’t michael hate, i just think he was deeply and intentionally ill suited for the spiral and that’s why he got replaced the way he did, locked out of his own domain. first of all he was an archive assistant, so already at least partially tied to the eye, but second and most importantly, he became the distortion as a result of being deceived by gertrude. she painted herself as frail and kept him in the dark about the fears. Ultimately this meant that once he found out, after it was already too late for him to be saved, he became deeply resentful of that deceit, of the lies and manipulation, a thing that HE WAS NOW THE EMBODIMENT OF! he was always destined to screw it up and act in opposition to what he had become.

now helen on the other hand was extremely well suited to the distortion. she was a real estate agent! the endless hallways *just make sense* for her from a pure aesthetic angle. not only that but she was probably no stranger to lying, or at the very least, bending the truth. making things look and sound better than they actually were so people would actually buy/rent whatever places she was showing. if she was completely honest 100% of the time she’d be out of the job, so no don’t look too hard at the mold in the corner, focus on the price and the prime location! don’t pay attention to the code violations, look at all this counter space!

michael was an interesting character bc of his inner conflict with his being tricked into being sacrificed to become the embodiment of trickery. helen is interesting because she’s what the distortion should’ve been all along! 🗣️

anyways that’s all, love your blog ❤️

NO FULLY 100% AGREED YEA

[24-jay-42]

Since the Bells Hells Are most likely going to be spending some time in Vasselheim talking to some gods, Here’s who I think It would be cool if each member of the bells hells talked too. I’ll only be listing gods that would be easily accessible in Vasselheim, so no Betrayers or lesser idols:

Orym:

The Wildmother - We’ve already seen them interact and Her even bestowing him the first known Relic of the red solstice. But i wouldn’t exactly say no to more

Imogen:

Stormlord - Obviously the red storm, and that she’s already interested in talking to him. But I also think “Where does your strength Come from?” is very interesting and compelling for her. We’ve heard a few times how she feels tempted by the power Predathos offers. And she has already displayed her strength and force of will in resisting it. I’m hoping she comes up with an answer for herself that strengthens that resolve even further

Laudna:

Dawnfather - While I still the matron would be cool and make a lot of sense, I also wanted to propose the Dawnfather. The matron is very anti-undead and doesn’t like those who defy fate and death, Which Laudna is actively doing. The Dawnfather Has some interesting Things in his tenets about not forgetting the lessons of the past, and Laudna (and Chetney) Has always been the one to point such things out. The Dawnfather Represents the sun, renewal and rebirth. Laudna’s Connection to the suntree. Also, Vex was a champion of the Dawnfather, could make for some interesting story telling.

Chetney:

The All Hammer - Yes, The craft god for the craftsman. But when it fits it fits. And it goes beyond just their shard love of craft. The All Hammer’s tenants promote Leaving a Legacy. “To create something that lasts is to change the world for the better”. As as we know from Nanna Mori, That’s something Chetney wants and values. Moradin is also god of clan, Family and the home. He promotes Loyalty. Chetney is nothing If not loyal. Even if he sometimes speaks and acts in a way that seems a bit sketchy, (eg. just recently with the bright queen and not telling ashton) But in the end he is always loyal, such as when he choose to administer a potion in the otohan fight instead of drinking it himself. Moradin also tells his followers to remain Stoic and tenacious in the face of Catastrophe, And he proved that by asking about Molaesmyr straight to Ludinus’ Face and many many more times

Dorian:

This one’s a bit difficult. Because of recent experiences and his current mindset (which i don’t blame him for), i think he will find it difficult to approach a god. The arch Heart is a good pick, art god for the bard. Anti-lolth. But I can also easily see the Law-bearer. He is now the eldest Prince and heir of the Silken-squall. Some guidance might help him. But i’m not sure.

Braius:

The Platinum Dragon - Sam and Braius have both said that since receiving truthbearer, this might be a sign. A chance for redemption. And honestly i don’t see the platinum dragon, The pillar of justice, protection, nobility, and honour discarding and condemning Braius for something that was barely his fault: Failing to stop an ultimately harmless Prank. One of Bahmut’s tenets is “Smite evil wherever it is found, yet show compassion to those who have strayed from the path of righteousness”. There is something so Raw and compelling about him keeping his Broken Holy Symbol. No matter what happens, his relationship isn't over yet. Braius is currently the Character with the largest connection to the gods so whatever he chooses will be interesting.

Fearne:

The Moonweaver - Not only do they match each other's energy perfectly: Fey trickery. Seizing your own destiny through your passions. “Walk unbridled and untethered, forging new memories and experiences” is just what fearne does on the daily. But also, Stealing Catha from the moonweaver is Literally Zathuda’s whole prerogative. It would be so Ironic if they instead worked together to steal Gloamglut away from him. absolute icon behaviour.

Ashton:

Ashton’s interesting. I obviously want him to talk to the Luxon and the Titan. But if i where to pick a deity.

The Changebringer - For F.C.G obviously. Ashton still has his change bringer coin that he took from the stone. But it goes beyond that. In my opinion The changebringer kinda suits Ashton better then FCG. Rising against Tyranny, change for the better. In terms of Luck Favouring the bold he can literally manipulate luck. Not to mention how tremendously lucky surviving that shard was. I in no way think he would ever become a follower, but I could see this as a sort of alliance. However reluctant.

[pianokantzart]

I love the concept of Luigi jumping in when anyone, especially Mario needs him, but ultimately preferring to stay on the sidelines and chill because imagine some villain trying to convince him (without magical brainwashing or whatever) to turn on Mario. "Come onnn, aren't you TIRED of being the sidekick?? Don't YOU wanna be the hero??" And Luigi's just like "no thank you :)"

There's a reason why everyone that takes control of Luigi has to straight up brainwash him and/or make him an empty vessel void of memories, because there is nothing in that little green guy they can hook their claws into.

Jealousy? A desire for the spotlight? Tired of being in his brothers shadow? Nope! he's quite comfy in that "shadow." And because I'm always looking for an excuse to bring up the "Year of Luigi" audio clip, I've got to point out that when he did get the spotlight he sounded more stressed than ever:

If they try to skew Luigi's view of his brother and convince him that Mario is mistreating him? Pushing him aside intentionally? Trying to leave him behind?

That'd probably be even less effective. He and his bro live together... they've known each other their entire lives... he knows Mario's heart better than anyone.

If Luigi's going to fight against Mario in any way, trickery and/or mind control would have to be involved. He's just too content and loves his brother too much.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi! Can I request Yandere Byakuya with a gender neutral reader(if you do those) who is the ultimate delinquent and they are very aggressive and hot headed, stubborn and just overall not a pushover at all. They care but they will absolutely beat the absolute shit out of someone?

Yandere Byakuya Togami x Ultimate Delinquent Reader

He’s not inherently fond of you

You’re supposed attitude, your dress, and your ultimate title

all point to a character he does not know or is fond of 

The absolute opposite of an Ultimate Affluent Progeny 

No money, no prospects, nothing to your name but your reputation for delinquency

And after all that you couldn’t even become the ultimate highschool level gang leader 

That role was manly taken

It's his mistake for taking you for a complete idiot

Losing his cool during the trial as you reveal his trickery and outside intentions with the investigation

“What?! Did you think I was an absolute dolt?!”

He also doesn’t expect how quickly you put him in a headlock as you spit in his ear

“Don’t. Ever. Include me in your crackpot ideas again, got it?!”

“F-f-fine…b-but I can’t help you if you look like an idiot-"

You tighten your hold 

Having Sakura and the majority of the group forcing you to let go

It's a strong-standing rivalry between you two

That everyone’s aware of 

Even Genocider Syo expects this 

But as many know supposed hate can be just as close as love

And in Byakuya’s case, it's quite an extreme example of that:

Dear fiendish enemy of Mine,

You will be pleased to know that I wish to accept an apology from you. 

I will be in the library, waiting.

–The Ultimate Affluent Progeny, Togami Byakuya

That’s what it said. The letter slipped under your doorway in the heat of the night or the morning you typically slept in on. You scoffed crumpling the letter before tossing it into your trashcan; just to spite him you debated leaving your room at all. You were all for keeping everyone alive and whatnot but the meetings were early and you were never one for following rules anyway. As much as you hated being grouped up with the rich boy you weren’t going to go out of your way to be some other hero type; that’s what Makoto was for. With ease, you settled into your bed drifting into another deep sleep. You’d eat later.

When you awoke, you had no indicator for any time passing. With an audible growl from your stomach, you tiredly sat up, finally setting yourself on a mission to feed yourself. Considering Monokuma hadn’t woken you up obnoxiously you figured nobody had died yet. That was good. Best case scenario it was ‘nighttime’ and you could feast without anyone bothering you. Pushing the handle down you only gave it a nudge with your hip. 

“D-did I forget to lock it?”

You tried the handle again to find the door was still unmovable. Getting irritated quickly you went to kick the door open only for the door to stay in place with the weight of something on the other side. 

“But why would there be something against the door?”

You tried again but to no avail spiraling you into a fit of anger. Turning from the door in a huff you began to take your anger out on the few pieces of furniture. Kicking over the table, throwing out the drawers of the cabinet; you were about to slam off the objects resting on the bolted shelf. Stopping when you see a familiar letter next to a lunch box.

Dear idiot of Mine,

I knew you wouldn’t follow such a simple command and that’s what I counted on! 

Now who’s the victim of their own laziness?! Since you are so inclined to laze about it makes you a difficult target in the killing game. Nonetheless, I can not have your reckless discretion decide both our fates thus I am making the executive decision to keep you caged.

“Caged!? That brat who does he think he is!?”

See like a dog you have a master. I would have included you in this decision if I was sure you were competent enough to understand it. But you are not and I am tired of trying to change that. 

Therefore be pleased you are going to be taking a back seat to this game and if you’re lucky enough Monokums will let you watch as I win this game. 

Eat dear idiot. And if you can muster the brain power read. You might be interested in rotting your life away but I am not. The exact opposite actually, I fully intend to have you tamed when I am through with this game.

Enjoy your suspension (Y/n), Togami Byakuya

Throwing the letter out of sight you reached into the duffle to find a few full thermoses, multiple bottles of water, some books, and some canned foods. Resisting the urge to throw its contents all around the room you instead picked up the letter again rereading the words as you tried to make sense of your predicament. 

“S-suspended!?”

‘Was that even possible in a killing school game.’

Whether or not it was as the Ultimate Affluent Progeny: Togami Byakuya said so. And it would be your fate until the game officially ended.

[melandrops]

The Magnus Archives Entities as Greek Gods

The Vast - Zeus

The all powerful, infinite cosmic force that is both the king of the gods and the fear of insignificance. The fear of falling, and of openness. Pray that when lightning strikes, you will not taste ozone on your tongue.

The Buried - Poseidon

The ocean could very well be a part of the Vast, but they are fundamentally opposed. The same sides of a coin, one side pewter the other side copper. Two kings that rule next to each other yet are complete opposites. Pray that his brutal storms do not swallow you whole, crushing you under the weight of his world.

The End - Hades

He is the one inevitability of the world. He waits, passive, for victims. The other gods squabble and bicker and play their games while he looks on from the Underworld and knows that he is the ultimate winner. It is pointless to hope that he will not claim you eventually. Pray that you will be contented when he does.

The Web - Athena

The goddess of strategy, of weaving and trickery and cunning. She once cursed a girl to become a spider for her insolence. Pray that she does not lay her marionette strings over you, for then you will never know free will again.

The Slaughter - Ares

The god of war, and the gleam of bloodshed in your eyes and the eyes of the person on the other end of the battlefield. Pray that the blood streaking your hands and face is not your own.

The Corruption - Aphrodite

She is love, and the unbecoming of it all. The deadly force that eats away at your soul and changes you into someone you don't recognize anymore. She whispers that she is the most good and right form of the world, but her kiss is made of rot. Pray that her love will not break you apart piece by piece.

The Eye - Apollo

The god of the sun, who sees all the occurs in the daylight. Prophecy, truth, and the goings on of the world are the way he idles his time away. Pray that you are not intriguing enough to catch his vicious interest.

The Lonely - Hestia

She is the goddess of the hearth, of warmth and of family. Yet it was she who was foisted out of Olympus to make way for Dionysus. She tends to a hearth with no visitors to warm themselves by it. Pray that she does not beckon you to join her by the empty fire.

The Stranger - Dionysus

His parties are the raucous screams in the night, and people who walk in will never walk out the same person. There will always be something a little bit off about them. Pray that when the wine touches your lips you will still recognize yourself the next morning.

The Desolation - Hephaestus

Ugly, marred and disfigured. His wife refuses to look at him. He burns with a rage that he cannot distinguish as self hatred or as loathing for the world he lives in. He toys with the fire in his forge and the burns are the only thing that bring him joy anymore. Pray that he does not look at you with that fiery hatred in his eyes.

The Hunt - Artemis

She hunts in the dead of night, armed by the protection of the moon. Occasionally she enlists help. But always, she will dedicate herself to the next hunt. Pray you are not next.

The Flesh - Prometheus

He built humans out of clay. He built them with imperfections they would see in the mirror and insecurities that feel like a gaping pit in their chest. The god of innovation is also a god who wants their passions to hurt. Pray that when he creates you, your imperfections do not swallow you whole.

The Spiral - Janus

Doors and transitions and new beginnings but also endings all rolled into one. Everything and anything but also nothing and no one. He is a two faced god of deception and lies, and you can never trust what either face tells you. Pray for truth, but there is no point.

The Dark - Nyx

She's always there. Waiting for Apollo to leave. You're not safe from her. No matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, the most animal part of your brain will always fear her. Pray that she smiles at you without teeth as she watches while you sleep.

The Extinction - Pan

He is the god of nature, and there is no length he will not go to in order to protect it. Mankind is but a blemish on the world. The wild, untamable forces of nature will conquer it eventually. Pray that you will be overlooked when it floods the cities and burns the crops.

[namism]

and money | nami

➳ category: gay awakening in less than 1k words, female reader

➳ word count: 728

➳ note: it's mostly narration i'm sorry

Nami liked men and their money, but when she became a pirate, she liked men less and money more.

The reason for that was a messy mix of annoying crewmates, blood-boiling encounters with men who didn't know respect, and her personal decision to follow her dream regardless of whatever and whoever was in the way. Nami didn't have the time to find a man to fall in love with because she had a world map to draw, and while she had been on countless islands with the Straw Hat Pirates, there was, truthfully, so much more in the world that awaited her.

That said, Nami liked money by a huge margin. Nothing could top that. After all, she was a burglar on her own for many years before becoming a better burglar when she joined her pirate crew.

Nami, however, still liked (loved, if she were to be honest) having men wrapped around her finger, so that she could take their money. She knew that she was beautiful, and she was aware that many thought the same. It was the perfect ruse.

Yet somehow, as time passed, her trickery began to tick her off as she felt that it was not right.

No, it was not because she felt guilty. (She had been doing this professionally for years. What would she be guilty for?) It was also not because she stopped liking money. (There was never a day when she did not think about it.) She wasn't sure what the reason for it was, but she did have an idea.

"That's a very pretty dress, Nami-san!" you cheered from across the table of the dining room in the Thousand Sunny. Nami looked up from the newspaper she was reading. You were happy.

"I made it." She replied.

You were a passenger on the Straw Hats' ship after meeting Nami at a retail store and getting yourself twisted in her business at an island. Nami let you tag along with her crew after learning that you had family to visit at the Straw Hats' next destination.

That happened a week ago. Over the course of your stay, you got closer to the members of the Straw Hat Pirates. Nami, in particular, was the closest to you out of them all.

You told her that she was crafty and you asked if she could teach you how to sew. She agreed. You rushed to her side in joy and hugged her out of the blue.

She was in shock. Her mouth hang open for a few seconds, but overall, she didn't mind.

A few more days passed, and you reached the island. You invited the crew to your home to thank them for having you aboard their ship. Nami linked up with your mother along with Sanji, who helped cook a feast, during which Nami met one of your ex lovers.

"Former...?" Her eyes wandered through the crowd to find who you were pointing at. She found a slightly older woman with short black hair wearing a tight dress, mingling among the other women in the vicinity.

You confirmed that she was your ex and laughed aloud upon Nami's reaction.

(She didn't judge; she had a few friends before who swung the same way or didn't swing at all.)

Ultimately, that led the two of you to engage in an explorable conversation about your past relationships with women, which led further into a sewing class, then a sleepover at your room. As the banquet died down, your home became peaceful until the sun came again the next morning to wake you and the girl next to you.

The Straw Hats disappeared for a few days upon sensing danger in your island, so Nami had to leave. It didn't take long for you to follow them on your own and rescue half of the crew held hostage. Nami ran into your arms as soon as she was free, and that was when she accepted it.

It wasn't your prettiness that pulled her in. It was your aura that she found particularly flattering. You knew how to spend time with her in exhilarating ways that no man could. It was true, what Robin told her weeks ago—women treated women better. And while she had yet to learn what it meant to her, it felt nice to know that she had an answer.

[azapofinspiration]

So I’ve caught up to Mairimashita! Iruma-kun, and there something that really struck me about the series especially during the second year Battler Party Arc.

Iruma and the antagonists, the Return to Origins movement, have similar desires, though their motivation, methods, and ultimate goals are different.

Because both want demons to help unleash and fulfill their desires.

But as I said, everything else between them is different. As Kirio said, either Iruma or his own competing (though similar) desires will come to pass because they cannot co-exist.

The Return to Origins desire to unleash everyone’s desire is selfish. It’s pretty clear it’s an every demon for themselves sort of unleashing, causing chaos as people’s desires clash that will most assuredly leave destruction in their wake. Though considering that’s several members’ true desire that’s all right by them. They also seem to struggle to work together, even if they can pull through in the clutch, as most of them don’t seem to like each other (as seen with Poro despairing over who he’s surrounded with, Baal struggling to keep his stuff together for what he’s doing and following Poro’s directions even if it’s for his goal, Narnia not seeming to be a full part of the movement but clearly aware and taking advantage of them for his own goals (which I suspect is a more orderly and less welcoming world than the chaos they seem to want to incite)). Which makes sense, as cooperation is hard for demons.

Then their methods are trickery and manipulating people and situations just to set things up exactly as they want them.

And it’s all in service of their motivation to unleash their desires freely.

Contrast that with Iruma, who’s just learning what his own desires and ambitions, has two motivations at the moment: to stay with those he loves in the demon world and help those around him achieve their desires.

And he’s been shown, time and time again, to ask what those around him truly want to do. Going back all the way to the early parts of the story this has been true but he’s been getting more and more blatant to me it feels as the series goes on. Like, the whole thing with helping Sylvia do something dangerous just to fulfill her desire to make art, to see Beem’s art, and to let others get to witness and marvel over Beem’s art as well, just seemed to highlight it to me(as well as the steps he took beforehand trying to get permission to let Beem create in the first place and potentially still use the original though that was denied). Maybe because out of all the risky things they’ve done before, this felt the most dangerous as even her sanity was on the line.

But as Iruma said, people say impossible and he (along with everyone else in the Misfit class, as shown when Soi revealed his initial desires at the start of the Music Festival) takes it as a challenge.

And then there’s his methods. Because unlike the Origins group, he first goes to using collaboration and cooperation, dragging everyone else in and getting help to achieve the impossible. And his desire and the person we’re focusing on’s desires, become everyone’s desire as well.

And in the newest arc (with the Love Trio! I love it! Platonic, QPR, or Romantic, as long as these dorks are together I’m satisfied), it seems he might also be taking a page from Sullivan’s book and focusing on the importance of education as well.

And the result is that everyone has fun and feels successful, marveling over it as their combined desire is fulfilled.

Because that’s the end goal from him that’s the biggest contrast to the Origins group: he wants to make a demon world where people work together to fulfill their desires, allowing everyone one to have fun and be a part of it as well. It’s probably still somewhat chaotic and I’m not sure how it’d work with a more destructive or despairing desire (as seen with how Iruma isn’t sure how to help Kirio yet but that seems to be a final arc lesson), but overall it seems a lot more appealing.

I don’t know. It’s just something that I noticed and thought was interesting.