Trash Books I love

kell maresh: out of all the ancient artifacts that i have allegedly stolen and then accidentally broken, this one has given me the most curses

lila bard: bought a bubblegum scented sword so the last thing my enemies realize is how fun and cute i am

rhy maresh: the plan worked like a charm, yep worked just like a small ornament worn on a necklace or bracelet

alucard emery: a good captain goes down with the ship, i personally don’t need a professional obligation to sink to the bottom of the ocean, i just do it

holland vosijk: i am going to lay completely still on the forest floor until either things start going my way or i disintegrate into nothing

master tieren: unsure of what to study? learn magic spells instead, its easy

osaron: sometimes the only real friend you have is your countless enemies

The Morally Dubious Dream Team

Inej Ghafa had long since learned to stop struggling. During the long days and nights at the Menagerie she simply allowed her spirit to leave her body, going to roam Ravka and preform on the high wire with her family like she had as a child. She imagined herself back on the wire, eyes open to the vast sky, with nobody there but herself and her Saints to protect her. Her body didn’t matter on nights in the Menagerie, it was simply a vessel for her and she didn’t need it as long as she had a light soul. 

Lynx, they called her. Her given name was forgotten, her family name erased, printed onto her indenture papers and then taken to the peacock’s hoard of girls’ broken dreams. She wasn’t even human to the people of Ketterdam. She was an animal. Reduced to the color of her skin. Forced to conform to be a symbol, not a person. They’d dressed her in a mockery of the culture she celebrated, forced her to parade it around like it was a decoration. Her dignity stripped away with every one of Tante Heleen’s lashings. And it wasn’t just her. It was done to every girl in the pleasure house. 

Inej liked to think that one day she’d return to Ravka, return to her family. She spent a lot of time blaming herself, too. If she hadn’t been so stupid maybe they wouldn’t have captured her. Maybe if she’d been quicker. Maybe if she’d been loud enough. Maybe a lot of things. The memory of the slaver ship was still fresh in her mind. 

A group of men had woken her one day when she’d been sleeping in. Their smug faces were imprinted in her mind. She remembered how they had sneered and laughed, congratulating themselves on another capture. After they’d gagged her and dragged her towards the ship kicking and screaming, they’d tossed her in with other boys and girls. She hadn’t known what was going on. She remembered how hopeless their eyes had all been. That night they had taken turns telling stories in the dark, holding each other when the large waves became too frightening and the shadows on the walls looked like demons. She’d made friends on that boat. With boys and girls just as scared as she was. They spoke of tales where the misguided strong pirate captain would turn out to be good at heart, where the faeries would take the good children to a land of sweets, when the Saints would bless people with powers to help children like them. They told each other that everything would be alright. They had known they were lying.

“Inej,” one little girl on the ship had said. “When can I see Mama again?”

“Soon. I promise you, the Saints will make sure you see your mama again, even if they have to grant you wings to fly back,” Inej had told her.

There had been older ones on the ship as well. They had comforted the young ones and gave them their own shawls when the nights became to cold. 

Now there was little kindness in her world. There was no help here. Just the men coming in every night and Tante Heleen’s poisonous actions. Inej kept her hope and faith close to her heart because now, it was the only thing she had left.

She’d heard the other girls talk of how they’d gotten rewards for helping Kaz Brekker. Better food, softer pillows, better treatment, letters home. Inej had had little to lose so she’d tried to catch Brekker’s attention, walking towards him with purpose and desperation hanging off her frame. She’d walked to him praying to her Saints, praying that her life would improve. I can help you, she’d whispered. 

He’d looked at her as if he’d seen a ghost. Perhaps she was a ghost, she thought to herself. Perhaps the time she spent in the Menagerie had almost completely split her soul from her body. Perhaps she didn’t even mind.

Whereas the MCU has tied much of their emotional storytelling to the absence of fathers — whether that be literal (Black Panther, Guardians of the Galaxy) or a figurative lack of fatherhood (Iron Man, Thor) — the DCEU has firmly set its foundation on the importance and presence of mothers.