#you can change if history repeats itself but you cannot change that the tragedy has already happened.

[bardicjustice]

Some day I'm going to get my thoughts in order enough to go absolutely ape shit about tragedy and the role it plays in fallen hero

[originaljediinjeans]

Thoughts on ‘Atlantis: The Lost Empire’ (2001)

This is some stuff you probably wouldn’t have noticed unless you paid close attention and you grew up watching the movie over and over again

The prologue establishes that Atlantis was a powerful kingdom. But when the explorers reach the city in modern times, it is falling apart. The buildings are in ruins. The paint’s all gone. None of the legendary technology is present. People can no longer read their own language. 

The sense of decay is even in the soundtrack piece ‘The City of Atlantis’, in the background when the explorers arrive in the city. Yes, the scene is exotic and the ruins are awe-inspiring, but there is also a sense of loss and decay and even tragedy.

All-things-Atlantis nerd Milo Thatch is impressed that anything or anyone has survived. At the same time, however, I don’t think he wouldn’t have noticed that Atlantis isn’t the shining city of legend either, and this becomes more clear as he talks to Kida. Where is the power source that granted Atlantis of old its greatness?

(Notice the contrast with the DCEU version of Atlantis in Aquaman (2018). DC!Atlantis still has technology and it’s still thriving and prosperous. Disney!Atlantis is falling apart). 

So what about Kida’s perspective? Kida is the heir to the throne. She remembers, barely, what Atlantis used to be. She wants to do right by her people and make things better for them. Notice what she says to Milo before they swim to the underwater mural: 

“We are not thriving. True, we are living, but our culture is dying. We are like a stone the ocean beats against: each year, a little more of us is worn away.” 

A few scenes earlier, she has this conversation with her dad: 

“A thousand years ago the streets were lit, and our people didn’t have to scavenge for food on the edge of a crumbling city!”

“The people are content.”

“They do not know any better! The kings of our past would weep to see how far we have fallen!”

This next line reveals Kida’s intentions and motivations (and it sticks out to me because it was also in one of the previews): “If these strangers can reveal the secrets of our past, perhaps we can save our future.”

And then this:

“Our way of life is dying!”

“Our way of life is preserved. When you take the throne, you will understand.”

One thing that this conversation reveals is that the dimming of the glory of Atlantis didn’t happen overnight. There was still some prosperity for the survivors after Atlantis initially sank into the sea. As the years passed, however, resources became more scarce, people had to focus more on living day-to-day instead of cultural activities. Knowledge and customs that an otherwise thriving society with a surplus of resources would have maintained were lost. Kida wants to restore Atlantis to its former glory not just out of cultural pride but to give more prosperity and happiness to her people. She probably knows her subjects well even though it’s not shown in the film, and as the king’s daughter and as someone who works among the people and with them she is familiar with whatever they are going through. She sees that things are changing and not for the better. This trend has to be reversed or else not only will the Atlanteans lose their identity they may even die out physically.

Yes, the little crystal necklaces and the presence of the big Crystal are keeping the Atlanteans alive, with the Crystal being hidden by the king the people cannot benefit directly from its power, so they do not have the same technology and prosperity that they had before. 

Let’s jump to the scene where the dying king reveals everything to Milo Thatch. 

“In my arrogance, I sought to use [the Crystal] as a weapon of war, but its power proved too great to control. It overwhelmed us, and led to our destruction.”

“So that’s why you hid the Crystal beneath the city, to keep history from repeating itself.”

“And to protect Kida from suffering the same fate as my beloved wife...if she remains bonded to the Crystal, she could be lost to it forever.”

Remember the DTV sequel Milo’s Return ? Kida reveals even more specific information: the Atlanteans “used the magic and science of the Crystal to expand the borders of Atlantis. That war nearly destroyed the world.” And of course the imperial ambitions of her father led to the destruction of his own kingdom and people. 

Let me boil this down: after the destruction of Atlantis, the king was of course traumatized by his entire kingdom being destroyed and the capital city along with a few survivors being banished under the ocean. His wife had been chosen by the Crystal to protect him, Kida, and a few others, but the Crystal never released her. The king decides to hide the Crystal under his throne room. Why? To protect Kida, yes, but also so that its power can never be abused again by him or by anyone else. But (I’m speculating a little here), the Crystal was a source of spiritual and intellectual power to the Atlanteans, not just a ‘giant battery’. It is their ‘life force’. When Rourke steals the Crystal, of course, the Atlanteans are mere mortals and they will die of disease and starvation like any other people that has its resources stolen from them. With the Crystal hidden under the ruins of the palace, the effects are more subtle. 

What I’m wondering if is the king’s intentions were not so benign? What if he did know what was happening and that Atlantis and its people were fading away culturally? What if he did know that it was harder for his people to get by without the Crystal? And what if he had known even when he hid the Crystal that he was making life harder for his people? Because if so, that would imply that the king felt so guilty about the events that had led to the fall of Atlantis that he would rather let the survivors fall into poverty and ruin than to continue to exploit the Crystal. Or that he was so determined to protect Kida that he would let his kingdom starve. Most likely both. 

“When you take the throne, you will understand.” He was planning to tell her, eventually, what he told Milo about why he hid the Crystal. But he was expecting Kida to understand that hiding the Crystal was for the greater good and she would get on board with it. 

So yes, the king was erring on the side of caution when he hid the Crystal and from a certain perspective it seems like a good idea--better to never let the Crystal be used at all than to allow it being misused for war and conquest. But it’s a lose-lose situation and a selfish one on part of the king because he is making everyone else pay for his mistakes. 

Or maybe among the survivors at first there were those who believed in Atlantean supremacy and wanted to use the Crystal to bring Atlantis back to the surface and not only rebuild but finish what they had started, but it seems implied that the king is one of the few people old enough to remember what really happened. So the other imperialists must have died out or maybe even been killed in a power struggle--which means that the younger generation(s) that grew up in exile has no idea what Atlantis was like at the height of its glory or what sins their people had committed. Kida seems to be alone in trying to investigate what happened and what Atlantis had lost. 

But yeah, most people currently in Atlantis are innocent and the king is making them suffer because the thing that gave them their prosperity also gave their forebears reason to think they could rule the world. Can’t have any more wars of conquest if you don’t have the power source to create weapons. So here you have a case of an entire society paying for its king’s ambition, and younger generations of exiles being punished for the sins of their fathers. Kida is paying for the sins of her father by being unable to help her people. 

The king was willing to doom what little was left of Atlantis to decay and die out--to doom the people of Atlantis to a slow extinction--rather than take any chance of the Crystal making Atlantis so powerful that the people become morally bankrupt again. Because human nature. Humans are bad, right? They always give in to the desire for power. The king was certainly correct in thinking that outsiders would come looking for Atlantis specifically to get the Crystal and make themselves powerful.

This discussion about the morality of using the Crystal gets discussed more openly in Milo’s Return: the people of Atlantis used the Crystal for bad things, so is it wise to allow the risk of that happening again? Yes, there are benefits to harnessing the Crystal’s power--technology, intellectual enlightenment, material wealth--but is having those things good if the Crystal can also be used to cause harm and destruction? 

Let me give a contrasting example: the One Ring in Lord of the Rings was created by an evil being for explicitly evil purposes. Some people (notably Denethor and Boromir) believed that it could be harnessed and used for good, especially for defense against Sauron himself. But the One Ring is evil in nature, it wears down those who resist it and betrays those who succumb to it, it wants to return to Sauron to help fulfil Sauron’s will and hurts anyone that gets in the way.

The Crystal of Atlantis, however, is implied to be good. It gives the Atlanteans knowledge, wisdom, and power. It protects the people of Atlantis. It was the king’s desire to harness the Crystal for conquest that was bad, not the Crystal itself. Milo and Kida not only save Atlantis in the end but they choose to give the Crystal and its power back to the people with the understanding that there are limits to what that power should be used for. They both loved Atlantis and they believed that it had the right to not just exist but thrive.

Evil people do exist. Good people can be flawed and make mistakes. However, when something bad happens, especially when one person hurts another, the idea that taking away the thing that caused the problem is not always fair or just.  Deciding that everyone in the group, in the political district, or in the whole civilization needs to suffer the loss of a benign or potentially beneficial resource has the potential to cause more harm than the decision-makers think they can prevent.  

What is just is to allow people the chance to do the right thing. Given the chance, they will. It is better to share power with those who can and will use it the right way than to hoard it for fear of it being abused. I think Atlantis: The Lost Empire is a film that speaks to these sentiments. Milo Thatch had to chew out his friends pretty badly, but they listened, and their decision to side with him was what saved the day in the end. 

I think Disney should do an entire series based on Atlantis: The Lost Empire and not just a one-film live action reboot for a quick ten bucks a movie ticket because the story is great and the characters are amazing and there is a lot of potential for good entertainment if they went that direction but no, Disney has a mouse for a mascot and therefore small brain. In any case I hope the reboot stays true to the values of the original but I have little to no hope for that

[fictionfromafar]

Mirror Image by Gunnar Staalesen

Mirror Image

By Gunnar Staalesen

Translated by Don Bartlett

Orenda Books

Publication Date: 31 August 2023

As in many industries, there can be a real focus on the next new name as this can often mean that some existing authors can slip under the radar. However consistency and longevity are qualities that cannot and shouldn't be ignored. A case in point should certainly be Gunnar Staalesen. He has been writing novels of Bergen based private detective Varg Veum for many years with in excess of 20 now in print in his native Norway. By my calculation, this is his thirteenth English language translation and while I can't claim to have read them all, I individually appreciate the quality of each of those that I have read so far.  Fortunately Staalesen doesn't oblige you to read his novels in order, although his age and relationship status may change, each can be fully enjoyed as a standalone novel. Likewise each not only confronts relevant social issues but also seem to tell us a lot about human nature. 

If there is a theme to Mirror Image, then perhaps it would be exploitation. It can be seen in some of the dysfunctional relationships presented in the story but also has a wider transcontinental significance. While this story has not been written in the last few years, there is a strong relevance to its considerations and a timeless quality. Veum may not have a computer and he certainly doesn't have any hacking skills so his investigations have to be done via traditional methods, his favourite being to question those individuals suspected of holding information in their personal homes. 

When Veum meets a lawyer by chance it transpires that she has been looking to contact him. She wants him to privately investigate the disappearance of her sister and her husband without alerting the authorities. He also finds himself occupied with the imminent arrival of a ship with undisclosed and mysterious cargo. Gradually it appears that the two cases could be linked in someway while the missing couple bring back memories of a tragedy that occurred more than a generation ago which Veum becomes convinced may also have some relevance.  Could lightning really strike the same family twice? 

Methodically he attempts to investigate the background of the key characters involved yet there are many layers that he needs to delve through before he can uncover a realistic version of the truth. 

Translated as always by Don Bartlett, the descriptions are rich and the language vibrant. Mirror Image is one of those books that you will happily make more time for, just to uncover one more clue or witness another encounter.  There are no silly shocks or scares but there are genuinely unforeseen surprises which make Mirror Image as compelling a Nordic Noir novel as any that you're likely to read this year. 

The Blurb

Bergen Private Investigator Varg Veum is perplexed when two wildly different cases cross his desk at the same time. A lawyer, anxious to protect her privacy, asks Varg to find her sister, who has disappeared with her husband, seemingly without trace, while a ship carrying unknown cargo is heading towards the Norwegian coast, and the authorities need answers.

Varg immerses himself in the investigations, and it becomes clear that the two cases are linked, and have unsettling – and increasingly uncanny – similarities to events that took place thirty-six years earlier, when a woman and her saxophonist lover drove their car into the sea, in an apparent double suicide.

As Varg is drawn into a complex case involving star-crossed lovers, toxic waste and illegal immigrants, history seems determined to repeat itself in perfect detail … and at terrifying cost...

ABOUT GUNNAR STAALESEN

One of the fathers of Nordic Noir, Gunnar Staalesen was born in Bergen, Norway, in 1947.

He made his debut at the age of twenty-two with Seasons of Innocence and in 1977 he published the first book in the Varg Veum series. He is the author of over twenty titles, which have been published in twenty-four countries and sold over four million copies.

Twelve film adaptations of his Varg Veum crime novels have appeared since 2007, starring the popular Norwegian actor Trond Espen Seim. Staalesen has won three Golden Pistols (including the Prize of Honour). Where Roses Never Die won the 2017 Petrona Award for Nordic Crime Fiction, and Big Sister was shortlisted for the award in 2019. He lives with his wife in Bergen.

Many thanks to Anne Cater at Random Things Tours for inclusion on the blog tour and to Orenda Books for an advance copy of Mirror Image. Please check out the other reviews of this book on the blog tour as shown below.

[batteryrose]

im late but ASK GAME TIME!! 1, 9, 21, 28, 36

Hey Mo I love you!! And that's a lot of numbers!!! Fine I'll answer them

Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Wouldn't mind rewriting and bettering Tragedy Farce if only I have THE GODDAMN TIME

You also have to kill the perfectionist in you sometimes. I'd rather move on and make some other funky stuff

Thoughts on cliffhangers.

What about cliffhangers. I can be tricked into thinking bad stories are good if they have a good cliffhangers in every chapter or something....... So I'd say they're pretty important. You gotta make people keep reading somehow! I'm pretty bad at it myself though.

Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?

I can't really. There is some intuition in shorter ones though. Usually those one shots with only one scene that I like writing will end up around 2k words. Somehow that's just how long all of them would be without me even checking the word count. And it would be enough, too. Crazy

As for my longer fics, they always end up double the amount of what I predicted lol

Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

I think to write often you have to be amongst writers. Have some writer friends like this, who tags you in.. Asks games.

Seriously though, it seems to work best. Reading all your friends works and throwing your own out there to be read. It's a rhythmic cycle. There's nothing else more motivating. As for writing longer fics, I have a habit of not talking/sharing wips about it to anyone until it's finished. I probably should! You probably should. You can probably get better ideas from other people. You might also catch mistakes early. Either way, Use People.

What else... Mmmmmoh I usually continue reading a book first before I start writing because then the words flows out easier. But that might just be because I'm not a native english speaker. Get the english brain going. I think it'll work for everyone though.

When I'm so lazy and stubborn to write anything, I'll use an alarm to do those 25 min writing sprints. This I rarely do. It's only for my long fics that I procrastinate on horribly. It sort of works tho and after some days I'd start writing on my own without needing the alarm.

One other thing too maybe: draft on phone and edit on computer! Especially porn!! Cannot for the love of me ever do that on computer

How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

I like to reference things in titles basically. I'm not creative. If I'm stumped then I'll just steal some other people's titles. The Tragedy Farce one, for example, is a title of a philosophy book written by Slavoj Zizek, which is also referencing Marx's quote about Napoleon that says: "history repeats, first as tragedy then as Farce" or something like that (I think he was specifically talking about Napoleon III). 'Less than Nothing' is also a zizek book title, while also being something Leon himself said once. It's great.

Some other titles that reference things:

Sleipnir is a horse in nordic mythology who is ridden by Odin, who has eight legs, like the,,, eight princes of Rhodolite. So "Sleipnir's Second Limb" just means Chevalier. Through the pov character's view, he is seen as some sort of a God.

I know Nothing about norse mythology. I believe I was searching for just about any horse god out there to reference. I think this one is perfect.

"If the mountain won't come to Mochammad," and "God Between Us and All Harm" are both people sayings that I found by googling. I'm most proud of the Muhammad one. It fits PERFECTLY with Adam's dumb predicament there. As for the second one, it just sounds visceral with the content of the fic.

'Symptoms of Rosette Disease' is just some words. Honestly thinking of changing it. Rosette disease itself is a fascinating plant disease, that's why I used it. And it's supposed to mean the underlying prejudice and inequality that exists in Rhodolite, the kingdom of roses, or something. I'm Trying to be profound here

'The Skies Have Been Empty' is also a good one... It's just Wellington noticing that over the centuries the stars have been less visible (because of light pollution babyyyyyyyyyyyy) and since stars was how people find their way in the past, he now has lost his way in life, Something Something

That's all I have to say about titles. I just woke up.

[axiang-n-chengling-s-dads]

Free Will and how “Trumpet Creeper” reinforces it. 

“They are repeating themselves aren’t they? You won’t be able to save her, just like how you couldn’t back then.” 

An addition in the show that wasn’t in the original mahua, the ‘Trumpet Creeper’ or ‘Flower’, is a second, previous book, where the characters of Eun Dan Oh, Haru, Baek Kyung, and Dried Squid Fairy supposedly originated. A story that ended in tragedy because the characters tried to change it-- the second book is a stand-in for every tale of ‘wrath of the gods’ or ‘punishment given to the sinners’ we’ve ever heard. 

It is also a stand-in for History in general, and the fear that the events that had already occurred are repeating themselves again. 

The comic also provides a starting point for their ill-fated relationships, and an explanation for why Haru remembered Dan Oh’s name-- they’d chosen to love each other in the previous book too. In fact, the show also makes a statement on fate and soulmates through their relationship. A soulmate is someone who you choose to make your fate every time. 

"If my fate was to live out the writer’s character, then I decided you (Haru) to be the fate I made.” 

Dried Squid Fairy, who is one of the two people who remembers the Trumpet Creeper in its entirety from the beginning (the other being Baek Hyung), has many ominous lines, hinting that while changing your fate seems like a good idea, it always leads to misfortune. 

"You and Dan Oh will never be together. That’s what the writer had decided from the start. (...) Don’t make the same mistakes again. You need to stop the person changing the stage, even if it is Eun Dan Oh.” 

The Trumpet Creeper starts off rather innocently, as a simple love triangle between Dan Oh, Haru, and Baek Kyung. While it is set in olden times, it does not seem to hint at the violent ending it will come to have. Haru’s love was supposed to be unrequited, but he and Dan Oh come together in the Shadow when they both become self aware. Dan Oh ends up falling for Haru instead, and that is where things go horribly wrong. 

This ending is what leaves DSF resolute on not changing the stage. It is also comes into play when the events and lines from Flower begin to show up again Secret, planting seeds of doubt in the characters mind-- was anything changing at all, or was this all going according to the writer’s plan, making them predestined for another tragedy? 

“How much of me is the Eun Dan Oh that the author drew? And how much of me is the real me?” 

This is where Eun Dan Oh’s unique perspective shines the most. Not only does she not pay heed to the events of the previous book, her resolve does not break even when it seems as though Haru was the one who’d killed her in the previous book. 

"That story is already over, who cares what happened in the previous work? We’re here changing our fate which the writer already decided.” 

However, it is in the matter of repeated lines and events that her words are the most game-changing. The issue is obvious-- if our thoughts and feelings in the shadow are real, then why do we repeat the lines we’d said on the stage back in the shadow?

“(...) But I don’t think everything went as the writer hoped. We finally got to say the things we really wanted to say and hear in the scenes that the writer drew. So we remembered those lines because we wanted to say it outside of the scenes. We wanted to tell each other how we really feel.” 

Taking the autonomy of their feelings and motivations into their own hands, Eun Dan Oh finally breaks the curse of history repeating itself that plagued all the character’s hearts. 

Here, the show sends a powerful message: things can only control you as much as you allow it to. If you decide that your feelings and intentions are real, and fight for them, the past cannot have a hold on you.

[mageofseven]

(´・ω|—|—|—|

hewoo.. its me, shy blob..

May I request how the demon bros react to Simeon and MC's secret relationship?

(///▽///) if its too much, I'm sorry!

m(_ _)m forgive meee

Aww hello shy blob! I'm actually planning to include such a scene in my Simeon section of MC's Pregnancy and Birth. However, I guess I can make a non pregnancy version of this too~

I hope you like it 🥰

~

The couple's relationship was discovered by little Luke. Despite making him promise to keep it a secret, the little boy accidentally made it slip one day and now the brothers know MC and the angel are dating.

Lucifer:

Laughs somewhat bitterly and without humor.

If there was any doubt MC descended from Lilith, that doubt would now be erased.

His sister, an angel, risked everything to be with a human despite every unspoken rule in the three realms telling her that she shouldn't.

Now MC, a human, has fallen in love with Simeon of all people?

Did they truly realize all they were risking? Surely they must know somewhat since they tried to hide it for who knows how long but still.

Lucifer feels a sense of...well, as if history was repeating itself in a way and his worry for MC was immeasurable.

Lectures the couple fervently

But upon hearing MC's pleas and how they talk about their love for Simeon, the oldest had a flashback to the day he discovered Lilith's interest in her human and how he originally treated her...

Lucifer didn't want to make that same mistake twice, but there was confusion with in him about what truly was the mistake: trying to separate Lilith from the human originally or giving in so soon afterwards?

He didn't know, but as he looked into MC's eyes, he could practically hear his sister begging too, telling him to help them in some way.

The Avatar of Pride sighed. He didn't know what to do for them if word got back to the Celestial realm about them. Simeon would undoubtedly be punished and the two would be split up, but what if his Father wanted to punish MC too? What then?

Their relationship could fracture the delicate political progress Lord Diavolo has made towards peace.

Tells MC he will look into some things to see if something can be done for the both of them

And eventually has a private talk with the angel, wanting to hear from him that this is all real and that Simeon is not playing some cruel game with the human.

Upon hearing the man's struggles, about how hard he fought to keep MC at arms length, but failed and fell so hard for them, the demon pursed his lips.

For now, Lucifer tells the angel keep it from others and make sure Luke doesn't spread the news farther than he already has.

The less that know, the more time a plan can be made.

Overall, Lucifer is frustrated by the news but somewhat sympathetic.

Mammon:

Real jealous, ngl

I mean, he's their first! Why the hell does Simeon get to date them?

All of that aside, the second brother is worried for MC though.

I mean, yeah, technically Lilith got her happy ending, but just barely. Like, it literally took a miracle by Lord Diavolo to salvage things from the tragedy that almost happened to her.

So what's stopping things from turning to tragedy for MC and Simeon?

Complains a lot to MC about how he should be their man, but in truth, just doesn't want the human to get hurt.

Leviathan:

Hides away in his room in self pity

Because of course MC would rather be with an angel like Simeon instead of a yucky otaku like him.

It's not until after he's been sulking in his room for two days that MC's situation fully sinks in.

Are...are they really gonna be okay? At best, Simeon might get punished and taken from them. At worst...the third brother didn't wanna think about it.

Suddenly feels like such a dick for making this about himself.

He really wants to help his Henry...but doesn't feel like there's anything he can do for them.

Satan:

Is immediately bitter upon hearing the news but is curious.

How long has this relationship been going on?

He's honestly surprised that they were able to keep this from him and his brothers this whole time.

He doesn't really see himself as an expect on Angelic culture; after all, a lot of the Celestial realm's inner workings are kept a secret to most. Many things you simply cannot read within books.

However, he knows enough about what happened to Lilith to know that this news is...concerning.

The Celestial realm is strict with their angels and won't be happy to hear that Simeon has fallen in love with a human.

This...he'll have to discuss with his brothers on how to keep MC safe if things turn dangerous for the couple.

It honestly seems inevitable that this will end in heartbreak for the human, but if they can at least keep them safe physically, that's something.

Asmodeus:

"Oh. My. Devil. Why didn't you two tell me??"

Hugs the two and tells them how cute they are together.

Asks a million questions.

When did they start dating? How serious is it? Who asked who out? Describe the moment!

Don't get him wrong though; he does understand how serious this is because of what Lilith went through.

Unlike his brothers though, believes that things might end up okay. I mean, surely this situation is different enough from before that the two could have a happy ending?

While his brothers are waiting tensely for the situation to blow up in the couple's faces, Asmo is keeping his eyes on all the good that can come from this.

The Avatar of Lust just wants to the two to be happy.

Let's his brothers prepare for dooms day or whatever; Azzy would rather be positive and remind the two that even when things look dark that their love for each other is important and worth the fight.

Beelzebub:

The only one of his brothers to immediately worry about MC's safety.

Most of his brothers were either more concern with their own feelings, either of frustration or unrequited love, but Beely just wanted to keep MC out of harm's way.

He already lost his sister to the Celestial realm's strict rules and he wouldn't be surprised if they've gotten even stricter since then.

The big guy really hoped that both MC and Simeon can make it out of this okay.

Not much of a planner, but trusts that Lucifer will think of something and is on standby, waiting to be told what to do.

Belphegor:

Pissed, but scared.

Blames all of this on Simeon.

That fucker knows the consequences to this shit, but he still chose to drag MC into it?

Is held back by Beel as he yells at the angel to stay the fuck away from MC.

After a long argument between the himself, the couple, and his brothers, the Avatar of Sloth realizes that nothing is gonna change.

Starts yelling at Lucifer to do something because things cannot repeat themselves. He can't lose MC like he lost Lilith.

Really doesn't care what the Celestial realm does to Simeon, but he will be damned a second time before he let's anything happen to MC.

[mournersrp]

𝐍𝐎  𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒,  𝐍𝐎  𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐒.  once  again,  thank  you  all  so  much  for  the  dedication  put  into  applying  here  at  mourners  ;  it’s  truly  been  a  pleasure  reading  all  of  your  applications  &.  i’m  tremendously  grateful.  turning  down  an  application  is  never  an  easy  process,  and  there  were  many  instances  in  which  i  wished  i  could  permit  a  duplicate  upon  the  dash.  with  that  said,  i’m  looking  forward  to  both  speaking  &.  plotting  with  each  of  you  tomorrow  (  bear  with  me  while  all  pages  &.  skeletons  are  properly  updated  )  —  welcome  to  mourners  !  please  review  our  checklist  and  report  to  the  barrel  boss  within  the  next  twenty - four  hours.

𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐉  𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐅𝐀

VENLI  !  choosing  an  inej  for  mourners  was  ...  a  feat,  as  each  applicant  displayed  an  exquisite  version  of  our  wraith,  but  what  swayed  me  in  the  end  was  the  balance  you  kept  between  who  she  was  while  with  the  dregs  &.  who  she  became  without  them.  the  details  surrounding  intricacies  of  her  newfound  crewmen  (  &.  her  family  post  their  reunion  )  in  which  helped  shape  the  woman  outside  the  barrel  were  lovely  to  read  (  her  thoughts  on  rilar,  in  particular,  were  both  authentic  &.  entertaining  )  ;  i  could  picture  the  scenes  in  earnest.  i  also  loved  the  mention  of  how  she  came  to  understand  kaz’s  own  vices  after  having  to  face  her  own  whilst  sailing  the  seas.  thank  you  for  taking  the  time  to  apply  —  i  look  forward  to  seeing  your  inej  in  play.

𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑  𝐅𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐘

NOAH  !  the  bit  about  kaz  disproving  jesper’s  exaggerated  stories  had  me  rolling,  and  your  headcanon  regarding  jesper  being  an  absolute  catastrophe  in  the  kitchen  (  gordon  ramsay  is  unamused  )  ?  you  wrote  it  best:  ‘  tall,  lanky,  restless,  distracted,  easily  bored.  ’.  incredibly  handsome,  but  certainly  cannot  focus  on  a  single  recipe.  on  a  serious  note  (  despite  the  consistent,  comical  little  tidbits  which  made  your  application  such  a  pleasure  to  read  ),  the  grasp  upon  his  character  you  presented  between  struggling  with  guilt  &.  penitence  was  flawless,  and  something  i  look  forward  to  seeing  explored  on  the  dash.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐒  𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐑

ABBY  !  there  was  so  much  i  loved  about  your  matthias,  but  i  especially  appreciated  how  you  incorporated  the  other  skeletons  into  interpersonal  plot  points  for  him.  the  attention  to  detail  within  matthias’  headspace  when  ruminating  over  them  was  absolutely  believable  to  his  character.  the  vast  detail  you  supplied  for  each  personality  trait  &.  headcanons  were  so  indicative  of  who  he’s  been  and  who  he’s  become  (  or  trying  so  desperately  to  be  ).  i’m  interested  to  see  his  reactions  to  henrik’s  next  moves  just  as  much  as  you,  and  where  our  drüskelle  will  stand,  then.  oh,  and  abby,  what’s  the  first  rule  about  fight  club  ?

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐀  𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐊

EMILY  !  ah,  yes,  nina,  our  waffle  queen.  her  past,  present  &.  sought  future  were  crafted  so  wonderfully  within  your  application  ;  i  particularly  loved  your  headcanon  dealing  with  her  time  as  a  heartrender,  where  nina  stubbornly  wished  to  understand  the  small  science  whilst  her  peers  were  occupied  with  morozov’s  manuals.  it  was  a  pleasure  to  be  able  to  read  her  thoughts  on  the  grisha  she’s  become,  the  label  of  corpsewitch  adhered  to  her,  the  burden  it  has  also  set  upon  her  as  ‘  self - appointed  grisha  guardian  angel  ’.  &.  i  do  hope  you  get  to  share  those  plot  ideas  with  some  of  our  fellow  grisha,  as  your  points  revolving  around  them  were  so  well  thought  out  and  executed.  also,  you’re  right  —  kaz  gets  way  too  into  the  costumes.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍

HARPER  !  i’m  ready  to  interact  with  felix.  it’s  no  wonder  kaz  made  him  a  deal  —  tragedy  maketh  man,  and  if  there’s  one  thing  dirtyhands  can  comprehend,  it’s  being  dealt  a  bad  hand.  i  love  the  idea  in  which  you  set  forth  that  he’s  lived  his  life  in  such  silence,  that  there  are  those  who  have  known  him  for  several  years,  but  haven’t  heard  even  a  whisper  slip  from  his  tongue.  the  way  you  transitioned  felix’s  headcanons  into  the  pivotal  moments  of  his  life  made  it  a  blast  to  read  through  (  especially  during  the  deal,  where  we  got  a  good  look  at  the  first  devil  in  his  life  —  do  old  habits  die  hard,  in  the  end  ?  ).  once  again,  welcome  to  mourners  (  i  foresee  much  plotting  in  our  future  ).

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

ALEX  !  we  do  love  a  good  destroyer,  and  marlaina  is  no  exception.  she  knows  her  power  &.  is  not  afraid  to  unleash  it,  a  trait  that,  while  prized  within  the  dregs,  can  also  become  a  nightmare.  after  all,  control  &.  patience  can  be  key.  the  idea  that  she’s  particularly  skilled  at  cards  (  as  well  as  banned  from  most  gambling  halls  )  was  a  fresh  addition  to  the  skeleton,  as  i  quite  love  the  idea  of  our  hellish  heartrender  pushing  her  luck  at  the  crow’s  club  (  when  has  that  ever  ended  badly  ?  ).  i  agree  it’d  be  an  interesting  concept  to  see  her  have  another  grisha  under  her  wing,  especially  when  she  herself  is  always  so  keen  to  detonate  —  her  desertion,  however,  will  surely  catch  up  with  her  soon.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑

MARGOT  !  you  have  spun  the  impostor  into  an  entirely  new  medium,  and  produced  a  character  that  went  beyond  the  skeleton  provided.  ‘  prison  changed  you.  for  the  better.  you’re  more  fun  now,  sociable  and  loud,  like  a  cannon,  truly.  so  loud  everybody  jumps  when  you  burst  into  a  room.  ’  one  of  the  first  few  lines  in  your  application,  but  what  immediately  captured  my  attention  and  had  me  buckle  in.  i  never  considered  that  the  target  in  which  damned  the  impostor  to  the  depths  of  hellgate  could  be  family,  but  now  i’d  not  have  it  any  other  way.  aris  is  a  world  class  actor  &.  i  cannot  wait  to  help  you  set  the  stage  (  &.  maybe  watch  it  burn  in  the  process  ).

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓

HENRY  JUDE  !  i  wasn’t  sure  if  there’d  be  a  lieutenant  at  the  start  of  mourners,  so  i  was  absolutely  thrilled  when  receiving  your  application.  an  important  player  with  a  plethora  of  potential  directions  in  which  they  could  shift,  and  i  can’t  wait  to  see  if  jozef's  includes  the  checkmate.  the  craftsmanship  in  your  design  for  him  was  extraordinarily  executed  and  quite  poetic  ;  he  was  absolute  pleasure  to  study.  i  look  forward  to  plotting  with  you  as  well  as  discussing  the  similarities  between  our  broken,  disastrous  muses  (  also,  i  can’t  believe  we’re  both  aleksander  morozova  apologists  ).

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐑

ARACELIA  !  i’m  in  love  with  anya.  you  put  so  much  adoration  into  her  creation  &.  i  cannot  wait  to  see  it  bleed  onto  the  dash  (  you  make  it  so  hard  to  loathe  a  traitor  ).  her  personality  is  so  believably  balanced,  and  more  than  what  my  own  ideas  surrounding  the  role  initially  included.  the  birth  of  a  monster,  the  birth  of  a  tailor  &.  the  birth  of  an  illusionist  were  impeccably  composed  stories  which  sewed  her  into  existence.  you’ve  forged  a  character  who  is  the  definition  of  ‘  so  much  more  than  meets  the  eye  ’  &.  i  am  thrilled  to  have  gotten  the  first  look  at  our  scarab  queen.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐑  |  EM  !  i  absolutely  love  the  concept  of  aleni  (  as  kaz  would  say:  she’s  a  particularly  good  investment  ).  with  grisha  within  his  crew,  what  better  for  an  amplifier  to  do  ?  i  was  wondering  if  i’d  see  an  application  involving  ketterdam’s  university,  and  was  immediately  thrilled  when  seeing  it  pulled  into  aleni’s  history.  the  idea  that  she  loved  ketterdam  in  any  capacity  is  not  something  you  tend  to  hear  (  it  died  quickly,  of  course  ),  which  was  a  unique  mention  within  your  wildcard.  &.  we  will  definitely  have  to  discuss  aleni  mistakenly  having  amplified  the  inferni  at  fifth  harbour,  as  i  believe  you’ve  proposed  an  excellent  idea.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑  //  𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀  𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑  |  IRIS  !  to  be  introduced  to  valdis  by  way  of  your  character  summary  was  a  treat.  i  absolutely  loved  the  way  it  was  written,  and  immediately  knew  why  she’d  made  it  into  the  dregs  (  truly  obsessed  with  her  being  the  daughter  of  a  pirate  captain  ).  though  she  managed  to  escape  her  original  work  with  braam,  it  seems,  for  a  time,  she  had  let  history  repeat  itself,  but  with  perhaps  a  better  boss  than  originally  at  the  helm.  &.  with  a  new  debt  paid,  how  fast  till  old  loyalty  dies  ?  

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑  //  𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑  |  REE  !  it’s  all  in  the  bones.  a  fjerdan  fleeing  for  discovering  themselves  grisha  is  always  something  i’ve  wanted  to  see  explored,  and  now  i  have  a  front  row  seat.  to  be  ostracized  by  their  own  &.  then  by  a  place  of  presumed  sanctuary  can  induce  a  particular  psychosis  within  the  most  stable  of  individuals,  and  we  do  love  sigyn’s  particular  brand  of  crazy.  you’ve  provided  an  entirely  fresh  take  on  what  is  known  of  a  grisha  healer,  and  how  such  gifts  may  be  construed  when  mixed  with  the  beliefs  of  fjerda.  thank  you  for  delivering  such  a  spellbinding  character  to  mourners.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓  𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋  |  ALI  !  with  a  vast  cast  of  varying  characters,  i  was  thrilled  to  see  that  senna  originally  came  from  wealth  (  it’s  a  different  path  to  weave,  one  that  usually  draws  more  enemies  than  friends  ).  your  application  was  so  appreciated,  providing  a  role  in  which  started  from  the  top  &.  careened  to  the  bottom  (  i  do  hope  to  see  senna  &.  wylan  swap  stories,  especially  where  senna  has  made  strides  to  escape  the  tread  of  their  father  ).  you  call  it  their  grand  adventure,  and  in  all  its  sinister  glory,  it’s  only  just  begun.  welcome  to  mourners  ;  let’s  plot  some  blackmail.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑  //  𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀  𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑  |  NINA  !  both  applications  for  our  resident  tidemaker  spun  tales  which  were  a  pleasure  to  traverse,  and  i  would  have  loved  to  have  both  turning  the  tides  for  the  dregs.  manu  belongs  in  a  novel,  with  all  the  devotion  you’ve  clearly  put  into  him.  &.  i  am  ecstatic  to  at  least  have  him  for  mourners’  chapters.  when  you  wrote  ‘  for  the  wanderer  was  nothing  if  not  a  mismatched  family,  made  with  kerch  purple,  fjerdan  ice,  kaelish  fire,  zemeni  courage  and  ravkan  boldness  ’,  i  found  myself  able  to  refer  to  it  whilst  reading  through  the  life  authored  for  him,  able  to  pick  out  these  particular  qualities  on  his  way  to  the  barrel.  &.  hopefully,  he’ll  reach  the  surface  soon.

[songzhong]

2, 3, 12!

SHIPPING MEME. 🔶🧡

2. what sort of things does your muse look for in a partner?

Calm and composed. Earnest and pure. Straightforward and vigorous. There are many types of people who could become Zhongli's partner if they felt a connection. However, they all need one thing : they need to constantly mentally challenge him one way or another. Be it by scholarly discussions, debates, conflicts or just by posing actions that make him think, question himself and the enlightenment he gets from witnessing them.

It is easy to try taunting him, start a conversation with him, or start to verbally or physically argue with him. However, it is hard for him to find himself challenged in his personal growth. This usually is bound by the person's own intellect, versatility and ambitious personality. Zhongli has lived for a long, long time, he's seen and done nearly everything there is to see and do a billion of times over. So if he meets someone who wishes to shake this up and have him grow, feel more complete ? It is an incredibly hard task, one that you cannot achieve by "hard work" but pure chemistry of values, but one that will definitely make you someone memorable in his memories.

3. what sort of things does your muse AVOID in a partner?

Ignorance and lack of self-awareness are massive red flag for his affections. Zhongli is someone who constantly analyze his surroundings and state of self, and then adjusts optimally to his goals, as tiny as they can be. Someone absolutely irrational who doesn't care about the consequences of their actions and doesn't wishes to face them ? It will anger him, frustrate him. He won't want to spend more time with this person. It is even worst if this person emptily complain without doing anything to change their situation.

This is not to be confused with him disliking chaotic, havoc-wreaking type of individuals. On the contrary, as shown with Zhongli encouraging drastic changes and his endearment to Keqing, he is attracted to chaotic individuals who take their fate in their own hands and take action. This is also shown through his affection to the Traveler who fights to challenge fate and his encouragement for Xiao to take his destiny into his own without guidance. If someone lives by their own rules, as long as there are any (unlike, let's say, Venti who has literally no rules), even if it is at odd with his, there will be an appropriate amount of respect, and admiration.

12. what is your muse’s love language?

first part here !

Zhongli is someone of very little confrontation, despite his track record. He only confronts when he believes is necessary, such as when the lives of innocents are at stakes, and even then, innocents need to die at times for the greater good. He never asked to make those decisions, he only did the best his judgement could do. Life is a repeating cycle, and history always repeat itself. It is Zhongli's and his adepti's constant battle to avoid mistakes from the past to be repeated, as they are symbolically living records and memoirs of tragedies.

Change, death, tragedies and injustice are always present, and needed if stability, life, miracles and justice are to exist. And, as much as possible, Zhongli will let the world go on its natural course.

A massive show of personal love is if Zhongli actively confronts another person over their actions. He is someone who believes others make their own choices according to their upbringing and personality, and that is, again, what makes people people. And he will usually let them do their good and bad choices without intervening (thus the Traveler's at times frustration of him not telling people they are wrong about X and Y, as he doesn't care, because he knows that you cannot change someone's mind if they do not want to, or that there will always be people who thinks in an erroneous way, etc.).

Zhongli standing in front of someone and asking them to do a change is him selfishly wanting his partner by his side for longer than what their natural life would, because he believes that his judgement will better his partner's life. This is VERY easy to miss, as the majority of people would simply tell their significant other if they are doing something they believe is not right, but not Zhongli, not on larger, lifestyle matters.

[antihero-writings]

Stolen Sunlight (Ch2)

Fandom: Tangled | Tangled the Series | Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Fic Summary: Arianna never thought she'd find herself afraid of a fourteen-year-old boy, but the events of Secret of the Sundrop won't seem to leave her.

She needs to talk to Varian in prison. Not for his sake...but for her own.

Character focus: Arianna 

Notes: Oh my GOSH you guys, thank you SO MUCH for that incredible response to chapter 1!! My writing rarely gets into the double digits as far as notes go, and I'm lucky if I get one comment... You have no idea how happy it made me to wake up this morning to so many notes, including a bunch of super nice comments...I really can't thank you enough. I hope you guys like the second chapter too! ...I know it's pretty different from the first one, haha!

(Fyi, I'm not usually this fast in posting the next chapter of something, I just happened to have the two beginning parts all edited together XD)

Chapter 2: The Cracks in Their Hearts 

Arianna’s eyes flare open, her heart firing and misfiring, taking its panic out on her own ribs. And for a second she can still feel the stone beneath her, the shackles around her ankles, can still hear his voice, feel the weight of his gaze.

The world behind his eyes then was so cold then: all hate and no hope. So different from the world she lived in. She didn’t want that world to infect her own view.

She clenches her fingers into the sheets.

It wasn’t a dream. That much she doesn’t have to question; at some point in a twisted history, it was real.

How the scene of the boy who smiled and laughed, helping Cassandra with her chores, making the library gleam for little recompense, and the scene of the boy who created a metal monster as a diversion, wrapped chains around her ankles, and teased death and amber before her eyes, could both exist in the same timeline…How the same boy who created machines and compounds to forge solutions, could turn around and use them to manufacture problems, could be played by the same actor, that the only thing that had changed was time…and, at the very end, the same voice that once laughed, and spoke so happily of alchemy and friendship in these castle halls could scream no and I’ll make you proud from a prison cart…she doesn’t understand. It all seems like some sick joke, played with a trick of the light.

The Queen tosses her legs over the side of the bed, pushing back her hair, careful not to wake Frederic, whose chest is rising and falling to the rhythm of uninterrupted sleep.

This isn’t the first time. That is, it isn’t the first time her mind parroted and parodied her memories as nightmares.

She tiptoes up to the door and slowly turns the knob, glancing back at Frederic to be sure he doesn’t wake, and quietly shuts it behind her.

She needs to walk the halls, clear her mind; if she lays back down to sleep now, her heart won’t be able to stop its war march.

She knows from experience.

The castle halls are quiet, doused in a blue-violet tinge, spilling through the windows. She steps up to one of these panes, sighing to the night sky speckled with stars.

The same stars she and Willow chased the sunrise under. The same stars she kissed Frederic under. The same stars, worlds she and Rapunzel gazed at, charted together, asking each other what was out there.

The same sky he kidnapped her under.

The same sky. The same boy. The same queen. The only difference is time.

Time is a funny thing, isn’t it? Likes to play pranks. Heals things. Makes you forget things too. Bad things, yes, but also good things; makes you forget what you lost…and consequently less grateful for what you have. And sometimes it only makes the bad things worse, when your mind won’t let go of them.

She glances down the hall—the same hall she had met that chipper voice and those eyes so full, so accepting of sunlight.

The same hall he captured her in.

She recognizes too, it’s the same window she was looking through that day, down upon the town square, watching those she loved be attacked by a beast of the alchemist’s making. The same window at which he threw sleep into her face.

He looked so different that night. He wasn’t the cute little boy with the gloves, and the apron, and the stripe in his hair, and the glint in his eye. This was a masked criminal in a large, dark coat, which hid weaponry. No boyish twinkle in that blue this time; now the goggles glowed green, like a demon, no soul or sunlight behind them. His raccoon wasn’t the only one he morphed into a monster that night.

How could a person so easily shut himself off from the bright light inside himself, and turn to such immense darkness? As if the shadows had been asking to play this whole time, and he finally accepted their invitation. That was the question she never could quite wrap her mind around.

How could he treat those he once loved like that?

Is that sweet boy still in there? Is he trapped somewhere inside the darkness, within that prison of blue, crying for mercy?

She couldn’t imagine any circumstances that could drive her to treat those she loved like that, no matter how angry she was, or how much she had lost.

Her heartbeat picks up the pace.

She knows she is safe. Her family is safe. Or at least, she has no reason to believe otherwise. They made it out of that lab, and Varian is just a boy swearing vengeance in the dungeons below her. She knows he cannot come back to haunt her. She knows she is safe.

He’s just a boy.

So why does she still feel so...uneasy? Why does the thought of him in the dungeon feel, not like the end of a story, the end of a nightmare, like justice…but instead like the beginning, like a crime in and of itself? Why does she still feel sick, and cold, and far too old thinking of him?

When Rapunzel was taken from them, so long ago—(though it always felt like yesterday)—sorrow was a constant reminder and companion. A quiet buzz of tragedy in the back of her brain. A crack in her heart, making it so she was never fully whole, never fully satisfied. Today’s melancholy, tinged with tomorrow’s hope, tomorrow’s despair. Now the tragedy, the threat, is over. Nothing is missing from their lives. Their hearts are whole again. And Rapunzel has faced many villains on her own, and defeated them with flying colors—him included.

But Arianna still feels something isn’t right.

Maybe it’s because this has happened before. Because she had spent so much of her life grieving the loss of their daughter, hoping in the deepest corners of her heart she would come running into the castle one day.

Maybe because, when her lost princess did come back there was this new thing in the back of her mind saying Maybe you don’t have her back forever. Maybe she’s not safe. Maybe she’ll be taken from you again. A part of herself she had to willfully soothe each day. …A voice Frederic was unable to quiet within himself.

Is it because Varian gave credence to this voice inside her? Because he took their own personal demons and brought them to life in a lab?

But it wasn’t Rapunzel he took…it was her.

Is that the point? Is it because she herself was the one who was kidnapped, for the sake of her daughter? That he used her to get to, to hurt, to in turn use, Rapunzel, too? Because she hadn’t anticipated that? Because the shock of it brought new ammunition to that voice? That now it was clear her daughter wasn’t the only one who could be taken, that any one of them could be stolen away, and used by the opponent? Was it that act of both of them being used as chess pieces in a grand game, instead of people with souls, who were hurting, that keeps her up at night?

It could very well be. But even so, together they had won against him. Arianna was confident that together—be it the three of them, or Rapunzel and her friends—they could face whatever came their way. She wasn’t afraid of him that night, when she was sitting handcuffed to his laboratory floor. She knew they would win. They always did.

Is it because he was one of her friends, a friend she thought could help Rapunzel face the darkness, a friend who had such light in him? Because he made it so terrifyingly clear that our worst enemies are not faceless monsters in the dark, not really…they are the friends we couldn’t save. His greatest offense was not treason against his kingdom, but against his friend. Is it that thought, that tomorrow’s villains are today’s heroes that sends her heart reeling?

But he is down there, in the dungeon, she repeats to herself, as she walks down the hall. She knows where he is; he cannot surprise attack her at any moment. He was not the first villain they faced, the first traitor, to Corona, nor will he be the last. That prison is filled with people who tried to take their sunlight away, and lost.

But she does not feel sick thinking of anyone else down there.

So why, when he is put behind bars—

Or says a voice in the back of her head, a very soft one she’s been trying not to listen to, maybe it’s because he’s down there.

…Because he’s down there, so close, and if he were to escape it would be so easy for him to strike where it hurt?

—(No, says the voice.)—

Or—(dare she admit it?)—Maybe it’s because he’s down there, when she knows he once was, and still could be, more than this. Because he’s down there, wasting away, repeating threats to empty walls, while she walks safely in her golden palace above, not caring what happened to him, what’s still happening to him, even now…how much pain he’s still in….

How much his mind is surely tormenting him.

(Just like her.)

Two scenes, one boy. But maybe it isn’t the way he turned to the dark…maybe it’s because she knows the dark isn’t all he’s made of.

Corona isn’t a place where villains and criminals are shut up, or beheaded for their crimes. It’s a place where they’re taught to be better.

She hadn’t given all that much time to mull in her head before, but now it gives her pause, sinks into her brain. Perhaps this unease is not entirely for herself, her family. Maybe its not fear…it’s guilt. Maybe some part of it, even if it’s small and cowering, is not for herself, but for him.

They all looked away. Frederic looked away when the rocks were destroying their kingdom. Rapunzel looked away when he came to her for help. They all didn’t go to him; looked away when the storm ended, assumed he was better, for fear of facing the fact that he wasn’t, that the storm had left wreckage behind after all, wreckage they would have to clean up. It was easier to look away.

Maybe this isn’t about the way he treated her…maybe it’s about the way they’re treating him, when she knows he was once a boy who cleaned libraries, fixed problems, helped people. When she knows he is still human…and they left him there to rot in the dark.

They’re still looking away.

What does she know? Maybe they’re right to leave him there. She doesn’t know him well. All she knew were the stories Rapunzel told, and the brief interactions they had. And the stories proved he was dangerous when good, and the interactions proved he was deadly when evil.

—(But…was he ever truly evil?)—

She met him twice, and their second, longer meeting was made of metal, and amber, and moonlight. If he could cross straight into the night without a sunset, then maybe she didn’t know him well enough to say they shouldn’t have looked away.

Still, even though she didn’t know much else, she knew—when she did look at him—the look in his eyes. She was certain that, though his gaze was harsh and unrelenting at those times…there was tragedy behind that ice, frozen in time. She could see the cracks in his heart. Could hear the voices in his head saying Maybe you can’t save your father after all.

A criminal was not all he was. A cell was not all he deserved.

He was just a boy, lost and hurting.

Like she was, once.

She paused, peering around a corner at two guards posted at a door. She knew behind it was the staircase to the dungeon. To …him.

She’s so close…

She could go see him right now. Sleep deprived and unsteady in mind she could march down there.

What would she do if she did? Yell and question him? Lecture him on the merits of a non-criminal life? Demand answers, or expect no answers, just want to see him hurt like he hurt her?

She tempers her breath. The thought fades quickly as it comes.

That is not who she is. That is not who she wants to be, to appear to him as; all fear and anger. If she does, if she wants him to hurt, she is no better than the darkest parts of him.

And it is not what either of them need.

She turns away, deciding the bed is more inviting now that her thoughts have coalesced into resolve, and her bare feet take her swiftly back to her room.

Not tonight. Not now.

She will talk to him again. She needs to, for both their sakes. She’s not going to look away anymore.

Because she knows they are the same.

[5lazarus]

White Nights, Ch. 2: The Docks

A year or so after Trespasser, Lavellan takes a brief vacation from mapping weaknesses in the Veil to Val Royeaux, and brings a new lover with her. She steps out to her balcony to enjoy the melancholy night, glances over curiously when a man steps out to the balcony attached to the room next to her, and freezes. It looks like the Dread Wolf had the same idea.

She says, “I won’t tell if you don’t.” Ch. 2, The Docks: They walk, and they keep on talking. CW: Discussion on whether or not Solas "laid with her under false pretenses." Neither comes to a satisfactory conclusion. Read on AO3 here. I made the banner, and yes, it’s from the movie adaptation of the Dostoyevsky novella of the same name. It’s a good watch! I suppose you can call this a Dostoyevsky/Dragon Age crossover :’’’’)  read Ch. 3: The Broadsheet here. read Ch. 1: The Balcony here.

In the dull lamplight Solas is almost unrecognizable, with the gray in his closely-cropped hair, the carefully groomed beard. Still, she recognizes the silhouette, and part of her thrills to see him. She had hoped he would have already left. She draws closer and notices the embroidery of his shirt: a gift from Clan Lavellan. She touches the filigree at the collar and traces the edge of his jaw. His breathing catches. He is also afraid. They are making a mistake, and she knows she will have to hold herself partly culpable for this. “So,” she says, and waits for him to fill in the silence. Instead Solas puts his hands behind his back, and she rolls her eyes. “This is a mistake,” he says tightly. Yet he came anyway. “So you’ve told me, from the beginning,” Lavellan says pleasantly, “one of many horrible little things you did to me. Still, you keep cropping up. Unavoidable, actually. Like a fungus.” A smile ghosts across his face as they both remember Cassandra. “I am sorry. Loving you--” “I wish you wouldn’t apologize,” Lavellan interrupts, “when you are going to repeat what you did, over and over again. Banal’nadas. The Blight is inevitable. We don’t have time to relitigate this.” Solas takes a shaky breath. “No. We don’t.” He lets his arms fall to his sides, relaxing his shoulders. She takes his hand. He looks at her ring ruefully. “You have always liked symbolic gestures. Your vallaslin--” “I want to show you something,” Lavellan stops him. She lifts her chin, makes a face. “To show you what you mean to me.” She squeezes his hand. “Come with me.” Solas winces dramatically. “I suppose it was foolish to hope you would not remember my worse words. Where are you taking me?” She says drily, “Not a swamp.” Solas rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It wasn’t a swamp when I was there last...perhaps two thousand years ago.” “What was it then? A sewer?” Solas thinks for a second then twists his mouth wryly. “I have called it a cesspool before.” He laughs at the face Lavellan makes. “Fine,” she says. “Keep your secrets.” She starts forward, tugging him along, and she both enjoys and hates the slight bounce to his step as he matches her. Walking with him was always like a dance, twisting in and out of each other’s magnetic orbit. “It was my house,” Solas bursts out. “Or at least the place that held my laboratory, when I was still…working with the Halla-Mother. Where I decided to break with the Evanuris and Geldauron’s clique both. I had planned to tell you everything.” She stops so suddenly he stumbles. He looks at her, afraid, and she lets go of his hand and touches the plastered wall of the building at the corner to ground herself, closing her eyes at the sudden rage that has swept her. He waits, awkwardly, as she breathes. They have done this routine before, of course, she has always struggled with her anger. She reminds herself of what she can feel: cobblestone worn smooth below her feet, ocean-cold air on her skin, the metal end of the prosthetic digging into what is left of her arm. The Veil is so thin now, and she does not want what could have been to tear it. Solas says, “I should not have told you that. That I was going to tell you.” “No,” she agrees. That possibility sits between them, and throws its arms around them companionably: there could have been another way. It should not be like this. Lavellan rubs the bridge of her nose, trying to calm herself down. “You are angry,” Solas says warily. “Did you expect applause?” She flexes the fingers of the prosthetic, as if to check if they still work. The middle finger sticks slightly, and she bends it back into a fist. She does not want to look back at him and see the pity and shame cross his face. She has built her life out of the ashes from Haven, and he has not been the worst thing to happen to her. She has survived worse humiliations. She smiles grimly. At least she is still moving. Solas says, “I have always been too rash in matters of the heart, and even after these long years, I have not yet learned moderation. I indulged myself at the wrong moments, and held back too. And for that, I am sorry.” He sounds like his Keeper has made him sit and think about his apology before reciting it aloud. It has the touch of rehearsal--but Solas has always thought themselves in some tragedy. Lavellan had always thought she was the lead of her own play, but it seems she has been upstaged. Lavellan musters herself to look at him. His eyes are pleading. The beard is ridiculous. She touches it, tracing where he has trimmed it along his jawline. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch like a cat. “I am not your Keeper,” she says. “There is no reason to confess. And I don’t forgive you, anyway. As you said. This is yet another one of your mistakes.” Solas does not rise to the bait. He rarely does. “Where are you taking me?” Lavellan does not know. She picks a street and keeps moving, and he matches her stride. His arm brushes against hers. They look in opposite directions, lost in their mutual self-pity. The night itself is liquid, a wet breeze teasing through the narrow streets. Magelight spills onto the cobbes, worn smooth by three hundred years of human occupation. Her great-great-grandfather on her mother’s side had been from Val Royeaux. He had died in yet another failed raid on Halamshiral, long before her mother was born. The streets are as old as history, and she misses her misspent youth, running goods from Orlais to the Free Marches, taking the Minanter through half of Thedas and leaving friends and enemies in her wake. Tomorrow she and Anders will visit some of them, and see what has changed. She has to clean her mother-in-law’s grave, too. She wonders what her late husband would have thought of this, what he would say. He would say something clever about her moving from the slapstick comedy of their smuggling career to epic tragedy. She says casually, “You know I met my husband here. When I was a student, working for Briala. And then when the Carta began paying me better.” Solas has always been amused by her past. He enjoyed the rumors flitting about her wake, and how they twisted him into it. The truth was stranger than the story, and the story served to entertain. He says, “Mahanon? Yes.” They duck into an alleyway that has an unguarded gate into the alienage--an example of Briala’s munificence. Before Solas stole the key, Briala had kept an eluvian there. A sick hatred rises up her throat, and Lavellan swallows as they turn into the elvhen quarter. A statue of Fen’Harel faces outward, away from the Vhenadahl. Solas grimaces and pats its head. She steers them away from the Vhenadahl--he does not deserve it--and towards the docks. Jasmine vines up the ancient buildings that date to the Exalted March, and she breathes in that heady scent with a rush of nostalgia--for whom, for what, she cannot tell. Perhaps herself, before--before all of this, before love. As they pass, Solas plucks a blossom and places it in his pocket. A perishable souvenir, she thinks: quickling memory. How apt. Solas says, “I was surprised to find how effectively you and Briala had seeded the various great ports of Orlais and the Free Marches with your organizers. And you joined the Friends of Red Jenny, did you not? An interesting move, considering their decentralization cripples their coordination. But it does leverage you into the back alleys of Denerim, Antiva City, and the Grand Necropolis. Though the Qunari invasion has stymied their recruitment efforts in Tevinter.” He is wrong, but she will not tell him that. “The Qunari,” she hedges. “They think if they find out your name, they can reveal your true nature and master you.” Solas chuckles. “I was, and always have been, Pride first. Fen’Haril, and then Harel,” he grimaces, and Lavellan cannot help the rush of affection at how he is still affronted over the name, Keeper Deshanna reckoned the vowel shift must have occurred over two thousand years ago, he has been quietly seething over it since before the fall of Arlathan, “--came during the war. And if Mythal could not master her pride, I have no doubt the Qunari will likewise fail.” The street widens as they approach the dock but he bumps into her anyway. She tucks her good arm into his. They can pretend they are old lovers and not political enemies locked in a cold war. They can accept that they are old lovers, currently locked in a tense nonaggression pact. Lavellan’s mouth twists. Leliana will be so horribly pleased with the whole situation. It is all so terribly Orlesian. Lavellan asks, “Who named you?” She does not expect him to answer. They reach the docks, and he turns to her, smiling. “Do you know,” he says, “you are the first person who has bothered to ask me that? Most assume I chose the insult for myself.” “Yes,” she says. “You’re far too proud to laugh at yourself.” He is avoiding the question, but he has still revealed that he has kept a close eye on the Red Jennys, which Sera suspected but could not confirm. “I have you to do that for me. You keep me humble.” “And here I thought it was Cassandra and her Smite that kept you from picking fights. With anyone but Vivienne, Iron Bull, Thom, Sera--didn’t you have a go at Varric once? What did you call Orzammar? Ah, yes. ‘The severed arm of a once-great empire.’ But now I know you were projecting. Is that what you call the Dalish? Twitching to give the appearance of life. Never dreaming,” Lavellan says bitterly. “Left for dead.” Solas looks at her strangely. “Not anymore,” he says quietly. He walks to the edge of the dock and sits down gingerly, avoiding wet spots and fish guts. He leans back, feet dangling above the water, and looks up at the stars. It is a beautiful night in Val Royeaux, and Lavellan’s heart catches. She remembers too much--friends long dead, friends lost, her first husband. She sighs and sits next to him. He shifts closer to her, pressing his leg against hers. He still smells the same. “Tell me about this place,” he requests. “It holds some significance to you.” “It doesn’t matter,” she says. Those stories are not meant for him. In another world, she would tell him about the Portinari boys, about Sylanna and Garta and Briala’s first girlfriend, and maybe she would have even told him how she asked Mahanon to leave Val Royeaux, on a night as cool as this. But, as he himself told her, that world is not this one. It cannot be. She says instead, “You were going to tell me your name.” She rests her head on his shoulder. He nuzzles into her hair and breathes deeply. Such an odd thing, scent: he must miss it too. He puts his arm around her, tentatively at first. When it is clear to both of them she will not pull away, he holds her tighter, and takes her hand. Solas says, “You know my name.” Lavellan says mildly, “You know lying by omission is still a lie.” “No--” Solas draws back, and the wooden pier creaks beneath them. “Careful,” Lavellan says. “Don’t fall in.” Solas stares at her. “I never lied to you. I...may have misled you. My meaning may have been ambiguous. Our language is one of intents, my heart.” Lavellan’s frown deepened. “You know my intent. In that I have always been clear.” He looks at her, afraid, and he braces himself for what she will say next. Lavellan thinks, oh I don’t want to talk about this oh but there’s no going back oh I should’ve stayed with Anders and ignored this white night. Solas says, desperation in his voice, “Our time together may not be kind for either of us--it isn’t. We both know that. But I did not lie to you. I did not lie with you under false pretenses!” Lavellan says slowly, “Is that guilt I hear in your voice?” Her mouth twists, and Solas’ lips thin. “I do think you protest too much, Dread Wolf. Fen’Harel, or Haril --whatever you call yourself.” Solas opens his mouth to interrupt but a furious look from Lavellan silences him. “You know you did wrong by me. You know what your name is, you know what you should have told me. You--dishonored me, you lied to me--do you think I would’ve fucked you if I knew--” “Then why am I here?” Solas demands. “Why are you here? Tell me--why do you keep tormenting --” “Me or your conscience?” Lavellan snaps. “Nosing at the edges of my dreams! You use me to torture yourself, because you’re guilty and you know you’re guilty, but you’re too proud to admit it so you’ll keep wearing me like a hairshirt--” “I did not force you,” Solas hisses. “I asked you to leave. You pulled me back from the door. Every time. Time and again, I warned you. This...connection has been cruel from the beginning.” He puts his head in his hands and breathes deeply. Lavellan is momentarily concerned, but anger is burning below her skin, despite the chill off the ocean. “If that is what you think…” He is at the brink of tears. “If that is what I have done to you.” He swallows hard. Lavellan is unmoved. “I have been nothing but myself, and my worst self, with you. I was Solas first and I have been Solas since. Did you expect me to tell you, when Cassandra held us both prisoner--oh, to keep us on even standing, I am the monster of your people’s mythology.” He laughs bitterly, wiping furiously at his eyes. He smiles at her sardonically. “Do you think I did not rehearse it constantly in my mind? From when I gave Tarasyl’an Telas, to Wisdom’s murder--and what would you have done? Would you have treated me fairly? Would you have given me hearing?” “I don’t know,” Lavellan says. “Did you, for me?” She meets his gaze steadily. He is at the brink of tears, which brings out the almost violent tinge to his gray eyes. She tells herself she is unmoved. She has watched him cry before, in fear and loneliness, when he could not sleep for the nightmares in the Emprise. They had both been haunted by the mines, and he had been particularly upset at the report that the red lyrium had taken root. Now she knows: he understands the rot has sunk into the soil, eating away at the people, and he was despairing. Then she had been worried for him, now she is glad. Finally, Solas looks away, ashamed as he had been in that ridiculous armor. They both enjoy a good costume performance, but she has him as stripped as she feels. Solas says, “Why are we here? To growl at each other like two territorial wolves, and sniff out what the other knows and does not know. Now you know the Blight that is upon us. You know this world have been doomed since Corypheus slaughtered the city of Kirkwall to break open the Black City.” “Before,” Lavellan says. “The Titan. I found your bolthole in the Crossholds. For a man who keeps his secrets close, you do like to dangle half-truth all over your walls.” Solas laughs hollowly. “I paint. That is what I am, before I am called to Mythal’s service.” Lavellan notes the change in tense, but allows it to pass without comment. “So now you know.” “Dread Wolf,” Lavellan says. “Fen’Harel. Fen’Haril. Rebel. At the feet of Mythal. And Pride first, Pride before all. I’ll spare you the pun about the fall.” “Two millennia too late for that,” Solas says. “But you are the only one counting.” She cannot help but smile at that. She stretches her legs and throws herself down to the pier, looking up at the still-visible stars. Solas looks down at her, fondness mixed with sadness. She squints and picks out a familiar pattern to the embroidery of his shirt. “I gave you that,” she says. “My clan sent that to you. I didn’t know you kept it.” She lifts a hand to his collar and examines the filigree. The magic responds, familiar: her aunt Ithilien sewed the pattern, but Deshanna enchanted it. They thought she would bring him home. From his collar, she moves her hand to his neck, traces it down to his collarbone, and contemplates tightening her grip. Solas closes his eyes. “Stop,” he says. She does not remove her hand. His heart beats steadily under her palm. They wait, listening to the waves gently lap against the shore, the planks of the pier creak, the carousing from beyond them, in the alienage cafes. She remembers fucking her first husband down at the docks, both daring in plain view of the moonlight, then more slowly in the shadows, even overturning, laughing, a boat, grabbing at some poor fisherman’s net. She looks up at Solas. She can imagine him grunting, half in pleasure, half in pain, her scrabbling to get him out of his clothes--perhaps someone opening their shutters to see what the noise is about and rolling their eyes at these two horny middle-aged elves. What good would it do, what pleasure would she take from it? She misses sharply the feel of his skin against hers, she misses him holding her hot against him, all those freezing nights. She says, “Do you remember those nights in the Hissing Wastes?” He says, “And those languid days.” He wraps his hand around hers and removes it from his neck. “My heart.” “Melodramatic,” Lavellan says. “Cassandra will love it.” “High intrigue,” he adds. “Devastating to us both.” He lies down next to her and caresses her shoulder. “Varric will pillory me in song. More than he already has.” She snorts. “Truly, he could not have helped Maryden come up with a better rhyme? And the book . That book--is the moonlight still glinting off my ears? Or has the effect changed, since I grew out my hair?” “He misspelled my name,” Lavellan says. “Called me by my matronym. I think he did it on purpose.” “Entertain me,” Solas says. “What ending will Master Tethras write for us? Because I do not know how to leave this gracefully. Though I suppose any ending is better than the last one, when I left with your arm.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Lavellan says, “you’re not allowed to make me laugh after I’ve made you cry.”

“Rules of engagement,” Solas says. “You do not strangle me, I let any cancers you encounter strangle  you--no laughing, but we can both cry.”

Lavellan presses in closer to him, eyes sparkling. “But only in the moonlight, under a,” she glances up quickly, “waning gibbous moon.”

“Obscure as your wit,” Solas says. “Agreed.” A draft of wind shivers over them, and they pull together. Lavellan feels hollow, exhausted, as emotional as the tides sucking at the Val Royeaux beach. Solas is  watching her. He always is. He says, “We will  not meet again.”

“One hopes,” she says. “Why that inn? Why Val Royeaux?”

“Because I am tired,” he says simply. “Because I like this city. I did not want to stay in the alienage and think  of you, and the hotelier did not sneer and call the guard when he saw my ears. And you?”

She parrots back, “Because I am tired. Because I love this city. Because I cannot bring a human to the  alienage, and the hotelier did not call for the guards when me too.” Solas’ eyes flicker, and he pulls away from her. She thinks, jealous? Good. He thinks of her in Val Royeaux, he thinks of her in the  alienage--just this one, or in general? They stayed in the alienage, when Cassandra brought her to testify to  the Chantry. The four of them had had a good time. “You should go to your lover,” Solas says. “Before he wakes.” Lavellan smiles thinly. He thinks she lied to him--a lie of omission, but a lie nonetheless. “And you to your empty bed?” He snorts. “Empty, and lonely, and ever-desiring what I should not. I have not changed much.” She is flattered despite herself, and triumphant, but then remembers that he has always laid the flattery a little too thick. “Desire?” she says teasingly. “What do you want?” He stares at her. “Life. More life. And not to die alone.”

[therealwokemama]

God this world is so fucked. I'm getting sick and tired of trans people. I've been so accepting and like yeah you do you whatever makes you feel good.

But now these fucking lunatics want to take away everything that gives a natural born women any value in society. (Child birth and breastfeeding) like holy fuck. Your not a natural born woman. THATS OK.

Stop trying to take away shit from the most oppressed group of people since the dawn of time.

Legit only until RECENTLY our only value seen by anyone is that we give birth. Your diminishing the most beautiful thing about a natural born woman. I get it you fucking upset you born in wrong body... but you can't change biology, and how fucking rude of you to demand we support you and then try and take away every little thing that makes a natural woman a woman...

Like holy fuck this world is ass backwards!! They cancelled fucking JK Rowling for SPITTING FACTS.

She's transphobic because what? She made comments about BIOLOGY?

Y'all so pressed about science when it comes to vaccines. But then deny science when it comes to BIOLOGY. Yes gender is a social construct, some people are more fem or masculine, but like Jesus Christ stop fucking bitching about SCIENCE.

Oh and then hardcore LEFT is so pro choice about abortion and other medical procedures... UNTIL it's about vaccines?!?

No hunny you can't have one or the other. You want medical freedom to do whatever you want, fine cool me too. But that DOES NOT EXCLUDE the freedom to choose if you want to be injected with straight up CHEMICALS and foreign DNA from animals and aborted fetuses. Same reason I distanced myself from anti/ex vaccine people.. They are against abortion, but wanted medical freedom. You can't have one or the other they fall into same category. It’s all medical freedom you cannot pick and choose. Oh and incase someone does come across my journal. I am against mandatory vaccines... what you choose to do for you and your family is 100% your CHOICE. I am pro choice. I vaccinated my son and he had reactions so we stopped. Therefore I’m an ex vaxxer... I believe vaccines have a role to play in medical industry, but I also know that current vaccine schedule has never been tested for safety and they’ve gone from 3-10 in childhood to 50+ I advocate for safer vaccines and freedom to choose. Vaccines are no different than your prescription. If your perscription gives you negative side affects your doctor will take you off it and try a different one. Everyone has different reactions and everyone is different. Therefore no medical procedure should ever be mandatory. One size does not fit all. And also before someone says I believe vaccines cause autism. No I do not. I believe vaccines can and are known to cause brain damage in some people. I myself fall into neurological diverse category. I also think it’s extremely cruel to diminish any mothers negative experience with vaccines. SIDS is linked to vaccines. You think a mother who wakes up and looses her child 24 hours after vaccination is following whats her face? McCarthy? Whatever her name is. No that mother woke up to tragedy and logical connecting of the dots and intuition told her that’s what happened. Maybe she’s wrong.. but what if she’s right? It’s wrong to be so cruel to someone who is grieving the loss of her child and doesn’t want anyone else to go through that pain. What about the mother that one day her child is happy healthy, then goes for her child’s shots and within days the child has severe reaction, having epileptic episodes, brain damage... or the mother that was more fortunate and her child only has mild reactions but still has to be on medication for rest of their life? Most of these people if you just speak to them about their grief you would have more compassion. But instead you run at them with pitch forks because something tragic that happened and they are just trying to share their story. ALSO in what world do we give a medical product full IMUNITY from any LIABILITY??? Every medication in the market can face lawsuit in the event of a severe reaction. But vaccines are exempt?

World is stop fucking stupid.

These idiots keep giving into the division... it's illegal to be straight, illegal to be white, like holy fuck.

Legit the word slaves came from SLAVIC because Ottoman Empire enslaved Ukrainian, Polish, and other Slavic people... but oh that's not talked about because that doesn't help their current narrative.

We fucking get it. Black people are heavily oppressed in USA, and systematic racism exists.

Canada it's the natives. Yes we need to fight those atrocities. We need to fix these issues. But your NEVER going to get respect and fix these issues if your goal is revenge?

Jewish people were heavily persecuted against, they could argue that oh all Germans and polish people are bad. But they don't why? Because so many fucking Germans/polish people risked their lives to rescue them and get them safely out of the countries. SAME FUCKING THING WITH BLACK FOLK. Some really good white people were like NOPE this isn't ok, and found ways to sneak slaves up North and into Canada.

Just because someone is fucking white doesn't mean they are racist, have ill Will against you. Yes bad white people exist. But that goes for your race too. No one is exempt from shitty fucking people. Every time news reports they caught sex traffickers 9/10 it's fucking black/brown dudes. So what should I now go around saying all POC are sex traffickers beware? Or by your logic, if all white people are racist, then all Muslim people are terrorists right? Fucking stupid. You can't believe one way but exclude other shit and facts.

I'm so sick of the LEFT VS RIGHT SHIT. Your both fucking imbeciles and the world will never ever get better if the divide continues. At this point history will continue to repeat itself

[fayewonglibrary]

Dou Wei and Faye Wong: The "Ambiguity" of "The Higher Being" (2020)

by Xu Jinjing  

I can't see through your ambiguous eyes They seem to be deep yet still very shallow The sky turned gray-blue I want to say goodbye It's not too late

—— Faye Wong, "Ambiguous" 

Oh~ my goodness, the higher being Heaven and hell are all on earth ...

Where is the happiness Where is the happiness Where is the happiness

—— Dou Wei, "The Higher Being"

From the masterpiece "Shameful" in the Black Panther era to the masterpiece "The Higher Being" in the Masters of Rock era, Dou Wei had obviously undergone a transformation from angry rock and roll youth to music philosopher. Dou Wei's transformation was brought about by his age and experiences and it was also closely related to his love life.

Before and after the release of Dou Wei's first solo album "Black Dream", he was in the vortex of a love triangle with Jessica Jiang and Faye Wong. On one hand, Jessica Jiang was the "suffering lover" who gave up her studies for him. On the other hand, Faye Wong was the "Heavenly Queen" who had risen to prominence in Hong Kong and the entire Chinese music industry. How could he choose? For Dou Wei, it was an extremely difficult decision.

In "The Higher Being", he described the rich aspects of human nature in the form of two-character words. He spoke indifferently and calmly, then shouted in a rather desperate voice: "Where is the happiness?" Dou Wei's thorough understanding of human nature and his matter-of-fact attitude towards life is somewhat reminiscent of the ideas of French existential philosophers such as Jean-Paul Sartre's "Hell is other people" and Albert Camus’ "There is only one really serious philosophical problem and that is suicide."

Dou Wei knows that it is very absurd to place one’s happiness on others. However, in his own life, he could not be so decisive and transparent. He lingered back and forth between the old Beijing hutong with Jessica Jiang and luxury hotels in Beijing's business district with Faye Wong whenever she returned to the city. There was aura and fame in Faye Wong and freedom and love in Jessica Jiang. All fulfilled the emotional needs of this artist from different aspects, making it difficult for him to make a definitive choice.

Faye Wong is a Leo who pursues control of her career and feelings. She could be very satisfied with the rich emotional and spiritual world that she created on her own. For the man she loved, she could also put down her identity as the "Heavenly Queen" and return to Beijing's old hutongs to pour a chamber pot and take care of him [when he was ill]. For these feelings, she vowed to not give up. Faye Wong finally had the last laugh in this long-distance love triangle relationship.

It is worth noting that when Faye Wong’s dream of love becomes a reality, she also needs daily self-affirmation and her lover's care to maintain the freshness and vitality of this relationship. The phrase “seems to be deep yet still very shallow" in her song "Ambiguous" perfectly expresses Faye Wong's complex and contradictory mood. In order to win Dou Wei's love, she could put herself down and be the little woman next to him. But in her emotional life, she obviously could not only just hold the "chamber pot".

When she and Dou Wei got married, Faye Wong in Dou Wei’s eyes turned from a musically compatible partner to housewife. Faye Wong’s career, aura, as well as her romantic ideals made the contradiction between the two more intense. In other words, the symbol of the chamber pot only became a gimmick for the media to describe the love between Faye Wong and Dou Wei, but it could never become the core element and theme of Faye Wong's expression of this relationship. The romantic Faye Wong can never be constrained.

Even if the sky deepens, still can't see the cracks on the brows Even a house filled with dim lights cannot shine through my body It can still reflect your heart ...

I fear that tragedy will repeat in my life The more beautiful things are, the more untouchable they are History repeats itself in this busy city There is no reason to fall in love without the undercurrent —— Faye Wong, "Undercurrent"

What is good or bad How can we adapt to this era I do not understand ... Look forward to receiving love's greetings Hope someone can save me Come soon, I'm waiting Take me to safety Stay with me at this time Let me feel your tenderness —— Dou Wei, "Sad Dreams" 

On the evening of December 31, 1998, Faye Wong held a New Year's Eve concert during her Scenic Tour in Hong Kong. After singing the opening three songs, she told the fans in Cantonese (in summary): This year, many people encountered a lot of happy and unhappy things. The important thing is to continue to learn from these experiences so you can face them in the future. I wish the fans a happy new year.

After the New Year's greetings, she sang the classic song "Undercurrent" in a trembling voice. When the fans started to cheer her on, Faye Wong stood on the stage and sang selflessly: “I fear that tragedy will repeat in my life..." At this time, Faye Wong and Dou Wei's marriage was on the edge. Faye Wong's popularity was continuously growing and the emergence of the third party Gao Yuan was close to exploding.

Three months ago, I repeatedly listened to the live recording of Faye Wong’s "Undercurrent”. I felt her emotional situation at the time with empathy. Faye Wong's spirituality and creativity have given her a very clear perception and intuition of her situation and fate in her emotional life. However, even if she knew that this relationship would not end well, even if she knew that the love with Dou Wei would encounter many ups and downs, while facing the doubts and opposition of many relatives and friends, she still chose to marry Dou Wei without hesitation. Faye Wong’s firm decision naturally reminds me of Nietzsche’s famous line: “Even if life is a dream, we must have this dream with a sense of interest, not to lose the sentiment and fun of the dream; even if life is a tragedy, we must act this tragedy vividly, not to lose the magnificence and comfort of the tragedy”.

The "tragedy" that Faye Wong firmly chose is most representative in Dou Wei's music. However, if you scrutinize the lyrics of "Sad Dreams", you will find that Dou Wei's "sadness" mainly comes from disappointment and uneasiness during this time period. In this state of loss and dissonance, love and salvation are just looking for a temporary "safe haven”.

One person saw love as a source of inspiration and romantic ideal. The other person only saw love as a substitute for grand narratives. The tragic ending of the two could have been predicted.

But there are times, when I'd rather Choose to keep this love alive and not let go And wait until we have finished admiring this view Perhaps you will keep me company And watch the trickle of water flow forever 

—— Faye Wong "Red Bean" Outside the window, the sky, the mind, the endless green field Your brilliant smile, I run desperately Fly by in the distance, no chance to reach the village, sunset, the boat returns Look at that day, there are white clouds In an instant, you appeared in front of me I saw the evening breeze blowing and the beauty of the rainbow —— Dou Wei, "Outside the Window" 

Of all of Dou Wei’s albums, "Sunny Days" was the most open and unconstrained. The self-doubt and isolation in "Black Dream" transformed into the self-expression of a Taoist temperament that was rather at ease. Take this song "Outside the Window" as an example. The style of the leisurely and boundless melody outline a simple and poetic atmosphere. The era of this album was when the relationship between Dou Wei and Faye Wong was in its best state.

In early 1995, Faye Wong released her live concert album which is still one of her most highly regarded albums by the public.  Dou Wei’s album "Sunny Days", which included the song "Outside the Window" was also released in the year 1995. No matter how bleakly their love ended, these moments are unforgettable. Listening to Dou Wei’s "Outside the Window" along with Faye Wong's smart and spirited singing in her concert, it is really wonderful to witness how the two people were in harmony.

By the time Faye Wong released the song "Red Bean", her relationship with Dou Wei had almost completely broken. In fact, "everything has an end" is already a well-known law of life for Faye Wong. But she still "chose to keep love alive and not let go" and to love vigorously rather than fall apart tragically. This is the "female lioness" side of Faye Wong. Her self-determination has been the same with Dou Wei, Nicholas Tse and Li Yapeng. Life is short and there will always be people who are unwilling to repeat mediocrity and unwilling to hesitate. After so many years, when listening to Faye Wong’s "Red Bean" again, we can see that this is still a person who seeks happiness without regret. 

When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup of wine and ask the blue sky In this heavenly palace I wonder what year it would be? ... People may have sorrow or joy, parting or meeting The moon has times when it is not bright Nothing can be perfect since long ago

——  Faye Wong, "Wishing We Last Forever"

Good spring scene on this sunny day Hazy like before Sweet dreams, the green mountains beyond the sky in the dream Look up at the blue sky ... I often say that happiness is born out of suffering Joy turns to sorrow, it’s been true since long ago Don't make me uneasy, it's hard to tell right from wrong The vicissitudes of life are no longer regrettable ... Spring Summer Autumn Winter Every year, every year, a hundred years, a thousand years The sky changes, the earth changes, the mountains change, the water changes A thousand changes, people change, hearts change

The past has come from afar to the present Something will make you remember

——Dou Wei, "Sunny Days"

When it comes to Dou Wei's open and sunnier side, we can't help but talk about the title song "Sunny Days" from the album of the same name released in 1995. However, if we analyze the lyrics carefully, we will find that the melody seems cheerful and happy, but the content expressed a kind of indifferent pessimism that sees through everything.

After separating with Faye Wong, Dou Wei's emotional life was not able to settle down. Although he maintained a high quality creative output, in the eyes of the media and the public from the aspect of mainstream success, he is seen as just a middle-aged "uncle" who is increasingly "down" and "frustrated".

However, if we listen to "Sunny Days" carefully, we can appreciate that all joy, happiness, and success in the worldly sense have already been foreseen, reflected, and deconstructed in Dou Wei's spiritual and cultural vision. During the eight years I spent in Beijing, my biggest regret was that I did not get to listen to Dou Wei’s live performance. However, whenever Dou Wei’s music is on, we can temporarily deviate from the secular world of fame and fortune and escape from life for a moment of freedom and calmness...

From this perspective, when facing Dou Wei’s love, Faye Wong has never  leveraged the various areas of her fame and fortune. She loved Dou Wei because she loved his soul and his talents, and at the same time, tolerated the arrogance, gloom and betrayal attached to his soul and talent... Faye Wong’s love for Dou Wei is reflected in her cover of "Wishing We Last Forever". It's so vivid.

If we link together the titles of these two songs by Dou Wei and Faye Wong, we will discover the eternal expression of emotions and the ultimate meaning of life:  "On this sunny day, I hope people will last forever." From this perspective, although Dou Wei and Faye Wong have been separated for more than 20 years, the love between them and their continuous pursuit of life and love seems to have never faded and never changed.

In these classic songs that Faye Wong and Dou Wei gave to the world, may ordinary people like you and me realize the blessing!

POSTSCRIPT

For the purpose of researching China’s social and cultural life in the 1990s, I began to discover some important Chinese films and popular music during this time period to study. Among them, Dou Wei and Faye Wong’s music naturally could not be overlooked.

Listening to them over and over, not only evoked my youthful memories of the 1990s, but also inspired me to use the love life of celebrities as a clue to sort out the ecology of Chinese pop culture in the 1990s. After all, professor Li Gongzhong from the School of History of Nanjing University suggested that I use emotion as a clue when researching. While professor Cheng Boqing from the School of Sociology, Nanjing University taught the academic history of emotional sociology in a simple and systematic way where I learned to be open to exploring social and cultural life with emotions. 

Next, in preparation for writing: Dou Wei and Faye Wong had several representative albums that came out in the 1990s that I listened to dozens of times. The quality of their work is very high.

There were not only the biographical works of Dou Wei and Faye Wong, but I also found sources such as: "Perfect Faye Wong-Selections of Faye Wong Songs" (edited by Tian Lai Music Studio, Baihua Literature and Art Publishing House, June 2006). ), "Faye Wong Biography" (Huang Xiaoyang, Jiangsu People's Publishing House, January 2011 edition), "Days When My Long Hair Flew" (by Jessica Jiang Xin, Bo Ji Tianjuan & Hunan Literature and Art Publishing House June 2011 edition). These references were used for my writing. Of course, it should be noted that I was quite suspicious of many details in the books, so this essay will not list them as official citation notes. All the text in the article is the author's hypotheses of the above materials. If there are errors, the responsibility for the text is entirely the author's own responsibility.

Because Dou Wei and Faye Wong are both musicians who have had a profound influence on the author, despite the preparation, I was unable to find a suitable way to express the writing. In the long process of coming up with ideas for this article, I made a small playlist on NetEase Cloud Music, consisting of 8 representative songs by Faye Wong and Dou Wei, including 4 by Faye Wong and 4 by Dou Wei, and paired them up in 4 groups. I set the name of the playlist as “菲”常，“唯”一 ".  Friends who are familiar with the music and life of Faye Wong and Dou Wei will naturally smile at the name of my playlist.

When I listened to this playlist for the 30th time, I suddenly had an idea: Why not use the 8 songs in this playlist as a thread to write this essay? With this idea, the inspiration for writing this article occurred instantly.  Although I try to be well-researched in my interpretation of Faye Wong and Dou Wei’s love life, these are still very personal accounts. I welcome all the fans, followers and researchers of Faye Wong and Dou Wei to communicate, criticize and correct.

------------------------------------------------------------------  

SOURCE: THE PAPER // TRANSLATED BY: FAYE WONG FUZAO

[tsaikovs]

as we all always say, history repeats itself. what has happened in the past is bound to happen again, perhaps because of the loose ends it left or perhaps because of the unsatisfaction of the players involved. man wants something that does not belong to him and he doesn’t give a damn about the consequences of his actions. that’s how tragedies are made. that’s how history repeats itself. there can be countless reasons and explanations but no end. at least that’s what we say. but what if―what if―that’s not it. what if history cannot be undone because it’s future already exists. what if it is not only the past that harms the future, what if the future harms the past too? where does the beginning of all this lie? in the past that repeats, or in the future that concludes?

title: intrinsic

genre: sci-fi, dystopian

themes: time travel, academia

narrators: four povs, shifting

word count: at least 50,000 (currently 21k+)

brief summary: princeton creek is that highly funded orphanage you read about in the newspaper, housing overachievers and future sports legends. if you are one of the lucky few to get in however, you’d learn that it’s not only a non-profit prestigious organization but also a house that homes reapers and solves the city’s problems with it’s ghosts and spirits. if you get sorted into vincent then you automatically become a collector, someone who collects souls of the lost. if you get sorted into cohler, then you become a storywriter, someone who writes down their stories. eighteen-year-old simarleen has spent five years in cohler, documenting lives of the people this town forgot, and hopes to end her school years in peace and positivity―until of course, she learns that she might not survive this year at all.

[ 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙡 ] 18. fifth year at princeton creek. would jump off a cliff to prove a point and can argue to death. hates it when she is wrong. is a bigass procrastinator. cannot, for the love of God, test well and is low-key worried about her future until she learns that she might not live to see it after all.

[ 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙜 ] 18. fifth year at princeton creek. he’s literally the human representation of a double cross, the dude’s ready to change sides to whichever party is winning. he’s really smart, straight a without trying and stuff. if there’s one person he doesn’t cross, then it’s simarleen. no one knows why and no one cares enough to figure it out.

[ 𝙟𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙫 ] 18 and the fresh face of princeton creek. he joined aboard two months ago after his parents died in a car crash and although he had a super rich family tree waiting for him to come, he’d denied their claims and asked princeton to accept him. everyone either love him, or hate him, the latter of which is what he blames the day he almost dies.

[ 𝙣𝙖𝙤𝙢𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙧 ] 18. fifth year at princeton creek. literally the one everyone looks up to and a straight a student. but she’s a sidekick. in literally everything she does. she’s sierra villenueva’s best friend and anna carter’s younger sister, mabon’s adviser and neeve’s relationship therapist. in every story, she’s just a sidekick and she seems to have no story of her own. not until, of course, the day simarleen finds out that she can see the dead without having to take murphy’s mix first.

taglist:  @vandorens , @apollchiles , @etheriiums , @astorsa , @aenieds , @monlizght , @qelizhus , @rcvolutions , @wrenarrior , @lexwritesgayshit , @semblanche , @jugularss , @margswrites , @partheneos , @snowyathena , @velvetinewitch , @tiyanaks , @noloumna , @ofbrokenwords , @liarede , @doevell  , @lui-inscribes (reblog/ask to be added/removed)

[three-houses-text-files]

byleth/rhea

c-s support + paired ending

*i’m pretty confused about this because the support convo interface says rhea doesn’t have c-a supports, but i found text files that are definitely rhea so maybe those can only happen on specific routes (a.k.a. church route)?

edit: nope! there are indeed c-a supports for rhea; i’m not sure what was going on with that one leaked game screenshot for rhea only having s

c

Rhea: Welcome, Professor. This is the first time I have welcomed you here, is it not?

R: There is no need to be nervous. Please, come closer.

R: When you speak with me here in this room, you are not speaking with the archbishop, but with Rhea. It's just me.

>Understood.

R: Such a sweet child.

>I'm still nervous.

R: What a sweet child you are.

R: Oh, my apologies. I should not be treating you like a child. R: As Jeralt's kin, somehow you don't seem at all a stranger to me... R: Speaking of Jeralt, may I ask if he ever spoke of me to you?

>He never mentioned you.

R: Oh dear. How heartless of him.

R: In any case, let us endeavor to become closer from here on out.

>He said you were frightening.

R: My, but that does sound like something Jeralt would say. However, one would be remiss to not take circumstance into consideration.

R: In order to rise to the role of archbishop, one must maintain an unbiased approach to judgment. It oft requires a certain sternness of words and actions.

R: However... I believe that the person who stands before you now is no longer frightening. At least...that is my hope.

>He said you were incredible.

R: Hm, is that so? Unfortunately, I am unable to believe that such words fell from Jeralt's lips.

R: I want you to know that you are free to speak candidly. There is no need to spare me from the truth, however harsh it may be.

R: Since you are here, shall I tell you about the Jeralt that I knew? R: By the look of it, you haven't heard much about his time at the monastery, have you? R: When I first met Jeralt, he was quite young. Why, he could not even grow a full beard at that point! R: On one fateful occasion, the band of mercenaries he belonged to fought alongside the Knights of Seiros. R: I was traveling with the knights at the time, and Jeralt jumped in front of an attack meant for me. He was gravely wounded. On the verge of death. R: I tended to his wounds in a desperate attempt to save his life. Thankfully, my efforts were not in vain. Jeralt managed to escape a seemingly certain death. R: I made arrangements for him to receive further care at Garreg Mach. The moment he was deemed fully recovered, I invited him to join the knights.

>I didn't know... Thank you for telling me.

>He never told me...

R: Well, it is not a story I have often repeated. R: Even at the monastery, there are not many who know that. R: I tell you this because...to me, you are the child of the one who saved my life all those years ago. R: And also...

>Yes?

R: Never mind. It is nothing. I simply wanted to say that I trust you. R: By coming to visit with me today, you have... Well... R: Suffice it to say that my day is brighter than it otherwise would have been. I thank you for that.

——————————————————————————————

b

R: Hello, Professor. It is so nice to see you here. R: It brings me great joy to know that you wished to visit with me again. R: I have this odd feeling that recently you've been trying to avoid me...

>That isn't so.

R: I am relieved to hear that.

>Maybe.

R: Yes. I thought as much.

R: In any case, I am delighted by this opportunity to speak with you again. R: My, how laughable I must seem! I imagine you must be dumbstruck by how unbecoming my behavior is for the archbishop of all of Fódlan...

>Quite unbecoming.

R: Such brusque manners! You must get those from your father.

>I'm sorry to have made you feel that way.

R: Oh, please do not waste your apologies on me. I am, perhaps, oversensitive.

R: But thank you all the same. You are very kind.

R: In any case, how are you feeling? R: Have you experienced anything strange since you began wielding the Sword of the Creator?

>Can't say that I have.

R: Oh. I am glad. There are so many legends about that blade. I was worried that carrying it may result in some strange side effect.

>What do you mean?

R: Oh, there are just so many legends about that blade. I was worried that carrying it may result in some strange side effect.

R: Has there really been nothing odd? A tightness in your chest? Strange dreams? Anything of the sort?

>I'm fine.

R: I see. Well, if something does occur, please let me know immediately. After all, it might have something to do with that Relic of yours.

>Actually... I have had strange dreams lately.

R: Strange dreams, you say? Hm. They may very well have something to do with that Relic of yours.

>Actually, there is a young girl...

R: So you saw a young girl? And she appeared to you like a phantom?

R: I'm afraid I can't explain such an occurrence, but it may very well have something to do with that Relic of yours. R: Please know that you are welcome to come to me about anything. I am here for you, always. R: By the way... When I see you at work, giving such splendid guidance to all of your students... R: I want you to know that it brings me great joy, as though I, myself, am receiving the benefit of your kindness.

——————————————————————————————

a

R: Hello there. I've been waiting for you. R: If you would, please allow me a closer look at your face. Those beautiful, shining eyes... R: And silken hair, so similar to my own... R: ... R: Oh dear, please excuse my rudeness. I forgot myself for a moment. R: It is only that we haven't had a chance to speak privately since you were blessed with the power of the goddess.

R: I hope I have not caused you any discomfort.

>Not at all.

R: In that case, I hope you will allow me to behold your sweet face again in future.

R: It is my dearest wish that we may strengthen the bonds between us further still.

>It was comforting.

R: Oh? I do not know what to say!

R: I am overjoyed that you feel that way, but... Well, to be frank, that is not like you, is it?

R: Still, no matter how I wish to strengthen the bonds between us, it is important that I not overstep.

>Please don't do that again.

R: You cannot mean that! I...I am so very sorry.

R: No matter how dearly I wish to strengthen the bonds between us, it is important that I not overstep.

>Our bonds?

R: Yes. As souls blessed by a connection to the progenitor god, the bonds between us are truly unbreakable. R: Just as the goddess blessed you with her own power... R: I, too, received her divine protection. Long, long ago. R: Though different, our fates are entwined.

>I understand.

R: You say that now, but I am certain there is much you still wish to know.

>I don't understand.

R: To that end, know that truth has a way of revealing itself, in time.

R: Yes, I am certain there is much you still don't understand. Just know that truth has a way of revealing itself, in time. R: If you experience any further changes, please know that you can rely on me to guide you. R: Seteth and Flayn are also here to support you however they can. R: Dear child... May the goddess protect you, always.

——————————————————————————————

R: As I soared through the sky... I spoke with my mother. R: Tell me... Is it wrong for me to be happy that I escaped death?

>You should be happy.

R: Can you still say such things to me, even after witnessing my...other form?

>I'm happy.

R: Thank you. Somehow I feel as though your acceptance alone is my salvation.

R: My sweet companion... I am entrusting the future of Fódlan to you. R: It is the only logical choice, as everyone wishes for you to be the new leader of this land.

>What about you?

R: I am not qualified to continue leading the people... R: Though my intention was to keep the peace in Fódlan, I still propagated a false history and deceived my faithful followers. R: I also took advantage of my position as archbishop to further my own selfish goal of seeing my mother again. R: If my foolish actions had anything to do with the war, I— R: We're all happy you returned to us. R: I wonder... R: After all I have done...is it truly acceptable for me to go on living my life? R: You are aware that it is my fault your fate has been so cruel, are you not? R: You have become so strong... R: You and I...we were brought together by the flow of time, and bound by the hands of fate. R: I took you on as a professor, and ever since... R: Well, I believe with all of my heart that this outcome was meant to be. R: Oh... Perhaps it is disrespectful of me to say that.

>How is it disrespectful?

R: Because it gives all of the credit to time and to fate, and doesn't pay you due honor for all of the choices you made that brought us to this moment. R: For all that you have done... For all the joy that you have brought me... Thank you. R: Ever since the tragedy at the Red Canyon, I have lived a solitary life. R: In an effort to fill the hole left by that solitude, I took up the challenge of reviving the progenitor god... R: I wished for you to become the progenitor god... I wished desperately to be held in my mother's arms once more... R: But that has changed. Now, I wish only for you to be yourself...and to have you by my side. R: I love you. Dearly. And so, I must ask... Will you accept this ring? R: If you feel the same, I would like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.

>I love you too.

R: You...you brought a ring as well? For me? R: I am overcome with joy... I never thought I would know a day so blissful as this... R: That we found each other... Perhaps that means my mother is looking after us. Guiding us. R: As the new leader of Fódlan, if you wish for this time of peace to be everlasting... R: Well, then I will happily dedicate my life to supporting your reign. R: No matter what obstacles we should encounter, I believe that our bond—no, rather our love— I believe that our love can overcome all. R: Together, we can achieve anything. R: With our love, we will make Fódlan's future as bright as the stars in the sky.

——————————————————————————————

paired ending

After finally saving both Fódlan and Rhea from crisis, Byleth ascended the throne as the first leader of the United Kingdom of Fódlan. From his/her temporary residence at Garreg Mach Monastery, he/she endeavored to restore and develop Fódlan. Having narrowly escaped death, Rhea took time to recover her strength before returning to her role as archbishop. Upon her return, she applied herself to rehabilitating the church and helping those who had suffered because of the war. Thereafter, the two worked closely to forge new policies and achieve progress for Fódlan. The pair's collective work came to be thought of as nothing short of miraculous.

[sparda3g]

Attack on Titan Chapter 122 Review

Ever since the anime season this year ended, the momentum has been phenomenal. Some would believe this would not only lose it but fall off of a cliff alas jumping the shark. Fans have followed since the beginning and remain loyal to this day. After 122 chapters, I can safely say this series still got it. That itself is amazing, but what this chapter delivered is unfathomable. It didn’t just deliver the explanation we have long desired for, it rewarded us for being loyal to this very day.

It opens up with Frieda and Historia’s flashback, centering on the story of a young girl who was loved by everyone. She was called Ymir. She was deemed as “ladylike;” an inspirational figure if you may call her. As fans know, she is the founder of the Titans. They also know her loyalty is to the Royal Family alas a slave. Basically, her figure can be seen as a role model, but her background and history say otherwise. It transition to Ymir’s backstory and from there, the truth is far colder than I can imagine.

It’s heartbreaking, disturbing, and probably the darkest of the series, and that says a lot. As the chapter’s title implies, it takes place 2,000 years ago. Ymir was only a child; a slave who worked hard in the midst of agonizing environment. Throughout the backstory, she never speak a word, but her expression tells tons. This is Isayama’s finest artwork delivery. The amount of effort put in is astonishing, and it only gets better.

The king wanted the culprit who set the pigs free and all the slaves pointed at her. We don’t know if she was even the culprit, but the painted image of everyone backstabbing her for the “greater good” is hard-hitting. She must take the fall and so, she accepted it. That’s purely corrupted and disheartening. Blame a child for your foolish act. But it didn’t matter; the king took it and free her to the forest, where she will be running from death by her own people.

I like to point out how disturbing it is to use the phrase, “You are free,” in a very cruel manner. It makes me believe the ending page of the series is about her. It’s still a speculation, but the chance has increased. Her suffering aches me and the flashback just started, let alone her character. She found the giant tree and entered inside for shelter. But instead, she fell down to the river with a supernatural object that resembles a spinal cord swimming towards her. They fused without a dance and thus, a titan is born. What a great sequence.

I love how it plays off as a phenomenal event and rightfully so. It’s the beginning of everything. It has to be treated as the second coming or the Holy Grail. It’s interesting to see a supernatural element in this series. Granted, a lightning strike, changing into a giant form, and Shifters wielding a special power are supernatural, but this is the origin, before titan became a thing. It has to start somewhere, so this is acceptable. I strongly doubt we will see more of supernatural entity like aliens. This is more of mythology use, the Tree of Life if you may, and Isayama is no stranger.

One would think Ymir’s life would turnaround for the better with her newfound ability. It did not; amazingly, it’s much worse. The King paid much “respect” towards her, thanks to her titan power. By that logic, this means she is “rewarded” to be his wife. The sad part is, earlier in the chapter, she witnessed a wedding that was presented as a blissful moment for the two. She’s no longer a slave to do labor work; she’s a slave to do everything. She’s rewarded a marriage and yet, she’s left cold and depressed. It’s disheartening to say the least.

She does all the works the King command. From being sent to destroy Marleyans to bearing the children for weaponized reason, she’s a mess. Every moment should be filled with happiness, yet not once you see her happy. Not even a baby birth made her pleasant; instead, saddened and broken. Year after year of the same procedure, her life was long gone. We the fans are only seeing her in pilot mode or in other words, emotionless.

What’s interesting is the moment when she was killed. You would expect her death to be glorious or end with a bang, but it wasn’t the case. One of the soldiers took out a spear from underneath the sand and threw at the King, only for Ymir to jump and take it instead. She could have recovered, knowing she was a Shifter. However, she lost the will to live, so she never did; essentially, passed away. It almost happened with Reiner back at Marley, so it makes sense for her to go out like a normal human. I love the imagery of her soul fading away with the sight of a flower. What struck me is her family watched her dead with sadness, only for the next moment to destroy the sensation and embark a really dark scene.

If you once believe the King has any soul towards her, you’ll be dead wrong. After a shock, he recovered and angrily yelled at her to get back up and work. That’s seriously messed up. He had no remorse for her death; not even seeing her once as a person. He flat out called her their slave. It only took a chapter to hate the guy so much. It gets worse as he decided to feed his children with her corpse. That’s unbelievably disturbing. I’m surprised at the raw image as well as disgusted. At least we know the walls are named after the three children; better not reveal that history. How this series not Seinen? I guess it was missing one cuss word to be qualified.

The most heartbreaking part is, even in the afterlife, Ymir is still a slave. In the King’s deathbed, his last wish was an order for his children to spread Ymir’s blood through generation after generation. Not even a touching moment for them; selfishly placed dictatorship over family. Sadly, they obeyed his last wish and through countless generations, the titans have grown.

It explained how the titans essentially break into different traits alas Shifters, including Jaw and Colossal Titan. After spreading for so long, it eventually formed a new type. It’s bizarrely insane. The King can enjoy in hell, while Ymir is forever a slave, creating countless titans. She outclassed all the suffering characters; bar none. It’s pure tragedy. She cannot be freed for 2,000 years and counting. Her life is only used as a weapon; nothing more, nothing less. The backstory ends here. The next scene, oh boy, here we go.

Eren finally reveals his true color and the sole reason to obtain her power: to end this world. Out of context, he would definitely been seen as a villain. Joker, watch out! But seriously, it’s the Rumbling and like he said at the beach, he’s going to put an end to this madness. While the request can definitely be interpreted as a villainy act, the intention is dare I say reasonable.

The idea I get is he wants to factory reset the world. The damage was done 2,000 years ago and its effect goes on to this day. Evil brought upon the titans to its existence. The irony approach to put an end is to use those colossal titans inside the wall. What stared the madness will end with madness. I don’t remember who said this quote about World War, but the third war will be the worst war of our time; the fourth one will have people use sticks and stones. It’s something like that. Basically, it means the world will restart after mass destruction, and that’s what Eren is going to unleash. Not necessarily kill his friends, but end the tyranny war.

I love the last psychological battle between the brothers. Eren wants Ymir to know she is only human; not a God nor a slave. As for Zeke, he wants to stop Eren from unleashing hell on Earth. Out of context, this sounds like Zeke is the good guy, but it’s complicated. Their choice of words to persuade Ymir are night and day. Not because of what they wished for, but what they cared for. When it’s all said and done, it’s perfectly clear which argument matters more.

The major key difference is how they approach to her. Eren may want the world to end, but he believes it’s up to her to decide. More importantly, what she truly feels. With Zeke, all value was lost when he yells at her to grant his wish because he ordered her. He believed he’s right because he carried the blood of the Royal Family; symbolically, history repeats itself or more like, the chain never ends. Eren wants to end it and apparently, so does her.

It is clear Isayama has planned this far ahead as well as improved his artwork tremendously.Thankfully so, because the delivery is powerful. Ymir’s emotion with tears is raw; I felt her agony and now, she can finally let it go. I love the fact Isayama didn’t show her eyes until now; making this moment impactful. You feel free along with her. The pain must end now. To top it all off, alongside with great artwork, it also contain the perfect circle; one that rewards the fans for supporting the work for a long time.

Eren may have a villainy idea, but his heart still contains purity. He wanted her to let go; end her misery. He knows deeply for 20,000 years, she waited for anyone to free her, and he is the guy. It finally hits me that this chapter’s title resembles to the first chapter. It was a message to Eren to save her; this time, it’s the reply she has been waiting for. Absolutely magnificent. Now I get those panels that resemble to Eren’s dream. Not to mention, the tears. It must mean he felt the pain of a poor girl. I’m convinced the ending will have Eren carrying Ymir to let her know she’s freed. I can be wrong, but I wouldn’t mind being right. Ymir makes her decision, and by God almighty, what a crazy ending.

The last couple of pages are incredible. Isayama seriously went all out on his art. Back to reality, Eren’s spine reattach his head; basically, escape death. The image is jarring in a good way. The battle is stopped with the wall crumbling down. By this point, my jaw was dropped. The scenery is intense as hell. Gabi, the one who thought stopped the mayhem, is now witnessing it in front row. The wall is gone; out comes the mass of Colossal Titans. Translation: we’re in the endgame now.

What else can I say? Probably a lot more. The bottom line is, this chapter was outstanding. It delivered a really dark, cruel, and depressing backstory of Ymir that answered many questions and gave us reasons to feel awful for her, which ultimately led to the defining moment. When it comes down to it, the stories we heard from Eldians and Marleyans were true and false. Eren and Zeke’s final debate was mesmerizing. The full circle twist was so rewarding. The visual is among the best Isayama has delivered; perhaps the best. The atmosphere, the angle, the expression; everything is top quality. The ending got me hyped beyond the maximum level. This is it. It’s not the end of the world, but you can see it from here…

[pope-francis-quotes]

11th April >> (@RomeReports) #PopeFrancis #Pope Francis’ Homily during the celebration of the Easter Vigil Mass from the Vatican.

“After the Sabbath” (Mt 28:1), the women went to the tomb. This is how the Gospel of this holy Vigil began: with the Sabbath. It is the day of the Easter Triduum that we tend to neglect as we eagerly await the passage from Friday’s cross to Easter Sunday’s Alleluia. This year however, we are experiencing, more than ever, the great silence of Holy Saturday. We can imagine ourselves in the position of the women on that day. They, like us, had before their eyes the drama of suffering, of an unexpected tragedy that happened all too suddenly. They had seen death and it weighed on their hearts. Pain was mixed with fear: would they suffer the same fate as the Master? Then too there was fear about the future and all that would need to be rebuilt. A painful memory, a hope cut short. For them, as for us, it was the darkest hour.

Yet in this situation the women did not allow themselves to be paralyzed. They did not give in to the gloom of sorrow and regret, they did not morosely close in on themselves, or flee from reality. They were doing something simple yet extraordinary: preparing at home the spices to anoint the body of Jesus. They did not stop loving; in the darkness of their hearts, they lit a flame of mercy. Our Lady spent that Saturday, the day that would be dedicated to her, in prayer and hope. She responded to sorrow with trust in the Lord. Unbeknownst to these women, they were making preparations, in the darkness of that Sabbath, for “the dawn of the first day of the week”, the day that would change history. Jesus, like a seed buried in the ground, was about to make new life blossom in the world; and these women, by prayer and love, were helping to make that hope flower. How many people, in these sad days, have done and are still doing what those women did, sowing seeds of hope! With small gestures of care, affection and prayer.

At dawn the women went to the tomb. There the angel says to them: “Do not be afraid. He is not here; for he has risen” (vv. 5-6). They hear the words of life even as they stand before a tomb... And then they meet Jesus, the giver of all hope, who confirms the message and says: “Do not be afraid” (v. 10). Do not be afraid, do not yield to fear: This is the message of hope. It is addressed to us, today. These are the words that God repeats to us this very night.

Tonight we acquire a fundamental right that can never be taken away from us: the right to hope. It is a new and living hope that comes from God. It is not mere optimism; it is not a pat on the back or an empty word of encouragement. It is a gift from heaven, which we could not have earned on our own. Over these weeks, we have kept repeating, “All will be well”, clinging to the beauty of our humanity and allowing words of encouragement to rise up from our hearts. But as the days go by and fears grow, even the boldest hope can dissipate. Jesus’ hope is different. He plants in our hearts the conviction that God is able to make everything work unto good, because even from the grave he brings life.

The grave is the place where no one who enters ever leaves. But Jesus emerged for us; he rose for us, to bring life where there was death, to begin a new story in the very place where a stone had been placed. He, who rolled away the stone that sealed the entrance of the tomb, can also remove the stones in our hearts. So, let us not give in to resignation; let us not place a stone before hope. We can and must hope, because God is faithful. He did not abandon us; he visited us and entered into our situations of pain, anguish and death. His light dispelled the darkness of the tomb: today he wants that light to penetrate even to the darkest corners of our lives. Dear sister, dear brother, even if in your heart you have buried hope, do not give up: God is greater. Darkness and death do not have the last word. Be strong, for with God nothing is lost!

Courage. This is a word often spoken by Jesus in the Gospels. Only once do others say it, to encourage a person in need: “Courage; rise, [Jesus] is calling you!” (Mk 10:49). It is he, the Risen One, who raises us up from our neediness. If, on your journey, you feel weak and frail, or fall, do not be afraid, God holds out a helping hand and says to you: “Courage!”. You might say, as did Don Abbondio (in Manzoni’s novel), “Courage is not something you can give yourself” (I Promessi Sposi, XXV). True, you cannot give it to yourself, but you can receive it as a gift. All you have to do is open your heart in prayer and roll away, however slightly, that stone placed at the entrance to your heart so that Jesus’ light can enter. You only need to ask him: “Jesus, come to me amid my fears and tell me too: Courage!” With you, Lord, we will be tested but not shaken. And, whatever sadness may dwell in us, we will be strengthened in hope, since with you the cross leads to the resurrection, because you are with us in the darkness of our nights; you are certainty amid our uncertainties, the word that speaks in our silence, and nothing can ever rob us of the love you have for us.

This is the Easter message, a message of hope. It contains a second part, the sending forth. “Go and tell my brethren to go to Galilee” (Mt 28:10), Jesus says. “He is going before you to Galilee” (v. 7), the angel says. The Lord goes before us. It is encouraging to know that he walks ahead of us in life and in death; he goes before us to Galilee, that is, to the place which for him and his disciples evoked the idea of daily life, family and work. Jesus wants us to bring hope there, to our everyday life. For the disciples, Galilee was also the place of remembrance, for it was the place where they were first called. Returning to Galilee means remembering that we have been loved and called by God. We need to resume the journey, reminding ourselves that we are born and reborn thanks to an invitation given gratuitously to us out of love. This is always the point from which we can set out anew, especially in times of crisis and trial.

But there is more. Galilee was the farthest region from where they were: from Jerusalem. And not only geographically. Galilee was also the farthest place from the sacredness of the Holy City. It was an area where people of different religions lived: it was the “Galilee of the Gentiles” (Mt 4:15). Jesus sends them there and asks them to start again from there. What does this tell us? That the message of hope should not be confined to our sacred places, but should be brought to everyone. For everyone is in need of reassurance, and if we, who have touched “the Word of life” (1 Jn 1:1) do not give it, who will? How beautiful it is to be Christians who offer consolation, who bear the burdens of others and who offer encouragement: messengers of life in a time of death! In every Galilee, in every area of the human family to which we all belong and which is part of us – for we are all brothers and sisters – may we bring the song of life! Let us silence the cries of death, no more wars! May we stop the production and trade of weapons, since we need bread, not guns. Let the abortion and killing of innocent lives end. May the hearts of those who have enough be open to filling the empty hands of those who do not have the bare necessities.

Those women, in the end, “took hold” of Jesus’ feet (Mt 28:9); feet that had travelled so far to meet us, to the point of entering and emerging from the tomb. The women embraced the feet that had trampled death and opened the way of hope. Today, as pilgrims in search of hope, we cling to you, Risen Jesus. We turn our backs on death and open our hearts to you, for you are Life itself.