look at the skill and spirit

I realized long ago that shit just fucking happens. oddly the shit fucking happening is distributed very unevenly among the general population which I am sure is due to a variety of factors. and also due to some people having God's Terrible Eye upon them

playing stupid games but im really bad at them so im not even winning the stupid prizes

all the rights that come with marriage you should be able to have without marriage btw. you should be able to designate a person who can visit you in the hospital regardless of your relationship to that person.

so much of fandom is about alignment. every arc is about how does this character come to understand their life as i understand it, feel the way toward every relational connection as i think they should feel, in line with all these implicit assumptions about what i believe to be the freest, most liberated, most integrated, most worthwhile human life. they should realize they are abused, and narrate an understanding of the causes and effects of this perfectly in accord with my own, and feel the way towards those who have harmed them whatever happens to be the way i clearly believe a “healthy” person should, regardless of how this particular character happens to feel in canon. if they don’t feel the way i feel, this is false consciousness, and to be corrected - they will “realize” they were x y or z and inevitably respond accordingly. it is impossible they could have in fact known this before and simply made different choices than i would have. everything is an arc from disillusionment to knowledge, from sin to salvation, with knowledge and salvation, ending with ME, the fan-psych-priest, and what i understand of the world. they should realize they are gay of course, and “come out” and “live their truth”, and vanquish any lingering self-loathing, then have as reward a sexuality exactly in line with what i believe to be the most healthful. they must have sex of course - to be averse to this in any way is to be lacking, and this must be fixed - and romantic love - ditto. but not too much of it (no “hypersexuality”, monogamy is the unquestioned welcome cure for such sad signs of self-hatred which is of course the only possible reason anyone could possibly have for fucking two whole people). not the wrong kind (nothing that could be “sex as self-harm”, no power dynamics). if they have any beliefs i find politically inconvenient, that will be addressed. are they religiously devout, or maybe believe in the divine right of kings? (my current examples, but endlessly swappable) welllll either the entire point of the narrative itself must be about proving to them these treasured beliefs are erroneous, and the canon should be so lax as to fail to amend such error, fic can handle it (or erase it, vanish it). wait, you might say! no, i love stories about FUCKED UP characters who are sooooo messy and repressed and never heal, hashtag internalized homophobia tag is my fave. but i regret to inform you i think this is basically two sides of the same coin. see, either you Align, or you are doomed to enduring misery. no one could possibly ever live a whole life that means anything outside of the parameters of what, i, personally have decided is a meaningful, good, well-ordered existence. they might be a circus sideshow of dysfunction to gawk at, tragedy the inevitable only result of such recalcitrance, the satisfying, comforting moral message to be salvaged from such resistance (hashtag doomed by the narrative) - it is not possible to hope for anything more.

im nonbinary in a way that doesnt really matter

shrewd didn’t, like, use the skill to compel fitz’s loyalty back then, right. when he swore him in

I walked to him slowly. When I reached him, he got down on one knee, to be eye to eye with me. The Fool knelt solemnly beside us, looking earnestly from face to face. Regal glared down at all of us. At the time I never grasped the irony of the old King genuflecting to his bastard grandson. So I was solemn as he took the tart from my hands and tossed it to the puppies who had trailed after me. He drew a pin from the folds of silk at his throat and solemnly pushed it through the simple wool of my shirt. “Now you are mine,” he said, and made that claiming of me more important than any blood we shared. “You need not eat any man’s leavings. I will keep you, and I will keep you well. If any man or woman ever seeks to turn you against me by offering you more than I do, then come to me, and tell me of the offer, and I shall meet it. You will never find me a stingy man, nor be able to cite ill use as a reason for treason against me. Do you believe me, boy?” I nodded, in the mute way that was still my habit, but his steady brown eyes demanded more. “Yes, sir.” “Good. I will be issuing some commands regarding you. See that you go along with them. If any seem strange to you, speak to Burrich. Or to myself. Simply come to the door of my chamber, and show that pin. You’ll be admitted.” I glanced down at the red stone that winked in a nest of silver. “Yes, sir,” I managed again. “Ah,” he said softly, and I sensed a trace of regret in his voice and wondered what it was for. His eyes released me, and suddenly I was once more aware of my surroundings, of the puppies and the Great Hall and Regal watching me with fresh distaste on his face, and the Fool nodding enthusiastically in his vacant way. Then the King stood. When he turned away from me, a chill went over me, as if I had suddenly shed a cloak. It was my first experience of the Skill at the hands of a master.

what’s worse: ignoring the incest in farseer, or acknowledging it but calling it ‘pseudo’

i just think it’s so telling how verity’s reaction to fitz accidentally sharing his nights with molly with him is to find it, like, an awkwardly funny inconvenience to himself that’s ultimately 100% fitz’s fault and #NotHisProblem but fitz’s reaction to verity doing literally the exact same thing to him is like: i’m so ashamed. maybe if i don’t tell anyone about it no harm will have been done. i can’t ever forget it happened. i’m so ashamed. i’m so ashamed. i’m so ashamed

it is so interesting how whenever fitz’s narration of experiencing the skill moves away from verity, the wording becomes far more explicitly reminiscent of rape & csa - like she can only allow herself to name it for what it is when removed from the context of a person she loves doing it to her!

‘i lay on the floor of the king’s study, gasping… i felt the creeping tendrils of the skill sense groping after me. i withdrew deep into myself, shielded frantically in the way verity had taught me. and still i felt their presence, like ghostly fingers plucking at my clothes, trailing down my skin. it filled me with revulsion.’ / ‘skill nudged me. clumsily. justin, prodding at me. i could not repress the shudder that went through me. my king’s use of me had left my mind as raw as a bleeding wound. justin’s awkward skilling was like having cat’s claws rake my brain.’ / ‘i suspected there would be an obscene ecstasy to such a theft of power, and that will would wish to savor it alone.’ / ‘i cowered low inside my cell, praying that i could not be seen, keeping as still as i possibly could. my own eyes were clenched tight shut, like a child who believes that if he cannot see, he cannot be seen… i could sense will looking for me as if i were hiding under a blanket and hands were patting at it.’ / ‘i felt an insidious probing of my defenses, more intimate than a kiss. as if he kneaded a whore's flesh, he felt me over for weaknesses… verity, i whimpered, but my king could neither hear nor respond.’

actually i dont think we talk enough abt how horrifically awful verity’s treatment of kettricken was. like just genuinely shockingly bad