#Or I will simply disintegrate or cease to exist

[lil-gae-disaster]

Goodbye

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 1

expand to see all propaganda received! (huge wall of text warning)

Selena:

"truly probably one of the most beautiful women to have ever walked this earth. voice of an angel, dazzling smile, looks like she smells good"

"if u don't vote selena ur mexicanphobic /j"

Chris Cornell:

"The word "ethereal" was invented to describe Chris"

"His tiddies."

"Chris is the most attractive person in history."

"looks california"

"IF U DONT VOTE CHRIS J WILL LITERALLY CRY"

"Picture this - Audioslave is headlining a festival in Bologna, but rain threatens. Thunder rumbles. Wind is picking up. Chris Cornell opens his shirt - and the hand of the weather gods is stayed for the rest of the show. Three minutes after the last encore, rain comes pouring down. Chris Cornell's chiseled abs fought off the rain for a full 90 minutes. Godly behavior. Plus he sang the beginning of "I am the highway" alone on guitar before the band joined in. What a show. Say hello to heaven, Chris."

"I want to cook the skrunkly alive"

"i want to rip the flesh off his tits with my bare teeth cjdkdjdjwsln i am way too in love with him for my own good i want to suck out all of his blood like a vampire but just for him (i have a massive fear of blood) i have probably like over 500 photos of him shirtless on my phone i NEED to squeeze and bite on his arms until his blood vessels pop i want to (almost) drown him in honey and sugar and eat every square inch of his body i want to rip out his voice box and vocal chords and keep them in a jar in the back of my closet if he doesn’t win i WILL disintegrate into thin air i will simply cease to exist i am already planning to get his signature tattooed on my arm this man is the second coming (HA) of jesus christ he’s not just the most attractive 90’s man he’s the most attractive person to ever exist (this definitely did not take an absurdly long amount of time to write what are you talking about??) (please send help)"

"I think Eddie & Stone themselves put it best when they said: Eddie - If he is the devil, I have to say the devil’s a beautiful person! Stone - he’s got a nice chest too…Jesus…"

"One of the humblest, most caring and creative man I've ever seen. I'd give him my last reserve of food, my car, my house if he needed. I'd go to the moon and back if he'd ask. Just one look into his beautiful blue eyes make you feel at peace."

"I mean, just LOOK at him! He’s so beautiful it makes me weep. AND he was incredibly talented musically and lyrically. His lyrics paired with that unique beautiful soulful voice of his feels like he’s stirring my soul around with his bare hands. I love him forever <3"

"hes like jesus to me. cant sleep if i dont think about him before bed. i even built a lil shrine for him uwu"

"i wanna suck on every inch of him. by the time im done itll be like an octopus attacked him"

[megyulmi]

JJK Chapter 260 Spoilers!

➠ Sukuna’s vision and the Hallucinations that arise from the deterioration of body in Buddhism:

This is a personal opinion on why Sukuna saw Gojo in that particular moment of Chapter 260. It is based on the process of Death in Buddhism and the visions that one entering the process of dying experiences. Please note that the death process varies depending on the school of Buddhism and here I am referencing the Mahayana tradition and the works of a Tibetan monk - Thubten Yeshe.

According to the work of Thubten Yeshe, the most important chakra (energy wheel) that runs through a body is the one located at the level of our heart as the heart chakra is considered the home of our very subtle mind (the mind is divided into the gross mind, the subtle mind, and the very subtle mind: the gross mind depends on the body and the five elements - earth, water, fire, air, and space. As soon as body functions stop, the gross mind stops. The subtle mind underpins the five senses - see, smell, hear, taste and feel the world of the spirit. The very subtle mind is the source of the clear light).

The activity of all types of mind, both gross and subtle, depends upon their supporting winds (of the energy) and where these are travelling. As long as they flow through any of the channels other than the central channel, these winds activate the gross minds that give rise to superstition and confusion. But when these winds enter, abide and dissolve into the central channel, as happens naturally at the time of death, the gross minds subside and the very subtle mind of clear light arises instead. This entire process happens automatically during death (as a process of deterioration) but very few are able to recognise it.

Here it is also important to note that the root of the Samsaric (endless cycle of life, death and rebirth) suffering is ego-grasping: the wrong view that holds onto a mistaken belief in a self-existent ‘I’ or ego-identity. Holding onto one’s ‘ego-identity’ at the time of the passing brings death in an uncontrolled manner, which forces the dying to enter an uncontrolled intermediate state.

Now to the actual process of dying: there are three stages - death, the intermediate state and rebirth. For us the process of death is important, so I will be discussing only this stage.

Death is the separation of the mind from the body. The body does not lose its ability to maintain consciousness all at once, but does so gradually with each element of the body losing its supportive ability in turn. First, the earth element sinks, or dissolves, into the water element and then the water element sinks into the fire and fire into the air, and the air element into consciousness itself. For example, when it is said that the earth element sinks into the water element, this means that as the solid portions of the body are losing their ability to function and are becoming less intimately interconnected with the dying person’s mind, the liquid element appears stronger and more evident. As these various physical elements become stronger and weaker in turn, the dying person experiences certain external and internal signs associated with the dissolution process.

When people, who have not trained themselves to go through the process of death during life, die they are out of control. They become overwhelmed as their bodily elements go out of balance and cease functioning harmoniously. It is therefore very difficult, if not impossible, for them to remain calmly aware of what is happening while experiencing visions. To put it simply, while desperately holding onto a supposedly solid sense of ‘I’ for security, they panic as the basis for one’s ego-identity – the body itself – begins to disintegrate.

As the earth element of their body deteriorates and the water element grows stronger, their mind is filled with the hallucination of a shimmering silver-blue mirage. They feel trapped and suffocated. Then the water element sinks into the fire element and a vision of swirling smoke appears. As this is happening they may feel that they are drowning or being carried away by swirling currents of water. Next, the fire element dissolves and their body gradually grows colder; they perceive a vision like that of sparks dancing over an open fire at night. Finally, the air element dissolves and their breathing becomes very shallow, and they may feel that they are being blown about like a leaf in the wind. Along with this experience comes the vision of a dying flame in a darkened room. As is the case when a candle is about to go out, the flame suddenly grows brighter as if exploding in a final burst of energy. Their breathing, which has been getting more and more difficult, now comes to a complete halt. To the outside world, they now seem to be dead. The visions one experiences in the process of death also vary from school to school (some see people, some see ‘demons’ or their fears, etc.).

I think that what we saw at the end of Chapter 260 was Yuuji causing damage so big to Sukuna’s heart chakra (in this particular case of jjk, soul) that he caused the elements of Sukuna’s body to deteriorate and enter different stages. We are seeing Sukuna being pushed to the edge of dying and his vision of ‘the ghost of the strongest’ is the representation of the visions (hallucinations) that arise from the uncontrolled mind at the moment of the beginning of the death process and the dissolution of the body. He is desperate (or trapped in a place/position he has never truly envisioned himself to be in) and clinging to the version of himself when his ego-identity was at its highest (i.e. defeating the strongest of the modern era). And how he sees Gojo, arising from the smoke (dust) is similar to how the hallucinations arise between the deterioration of the elements as well.

[mindibindi]

No Place like Home...? 🌈

So what...Ted Lasso just goldfishes his way into forgetting about his big diverse found family so that he can return to humble, hometown heteronormativity? Look, I get that "be a goldfish" is a cute moment from s1 and an idea that has some (limited) practical value. But isn't it also emblematic of Ted's initial overly positive attitude which ultimately just served to ignore difficult emotions, interactions or situations? This is his big advice to his son and his parting words to his audience? Wasn't the whole point of his time in Richmond and his return to his son to establish and encourage an alternative kind of masculinity? One that expresses, not represses? One that deals with difficulty maturely rather than just avoids it? One that actively and ethically chooses rather than simply doing what's always been done?

Honestly? There was plenty of stuff about the finale that I really liked. Colin's kiss was the best bit. That godawful wedding moment the worst, for many reasons. But I'm unsure how to even read Ted's ending, and not in a oh-gosh-it's-so-rich-and-ambiguous way but in a whaaaa....???-this-is-not-consistent-storytelling-this-is-missing-the-mark-for-me kinda way. When Ted looks at the camera, are we supposed to feel happy for him? Happy that he is happy? Is it a happy ending? Is he happy?? He doesn't look happy. Or sad. Or content. Or much of anything really. He just looks kind of vacant. Which is how he looked most of the episode. The final game (which wasn't even the final game and I suppose they justified not showing it for "creative" reasons, okay, sure, whatever) was the only time he looked engaged, and even then it wasn't fully. Most of the time, he did look like a gaping goldfish with a 6-second memory.

When it was time to say goodbye to everyone, there was no sense of nostalgia for the past 3 years and no sense of those relationships continuing. There were no promises or assurances of visits or skypes or calls. Phones, planes and the internet suddenly ceased to exist (when they'd served him and Henry quite well up until then). While the corniest song choice ever played (yes! we get it! the sacred struggle of fatherhood! GAAAHH), one family was sacrificed for another because both couldn't possibly co-exist. Two things at once makes brain hurty. After all the good work they did around dismantling traditional models of masculinity, in the end they reinforced a version of masculinity which centred supposedly noble self-sacrifice rather than ethical self-actualisation, regression over growth and singularity over plurality.

Sure, it bookends the series poignantly, if predictably. And truth is, Ted leaving Henry was baked into the premise of the show from ep 1. It's actually a pretty big emotional leap to take with a character but, as the audience, we made that leap because we understood that this extraordinary move away from his son was necessary for adventure, narrative and growth to occur. In real life, this move would've been highly questionable (esp for a female parent). But we are in a fictional reality here so we are bound as well as freed by the rules of genre, character and narrative. Without Ted leaving Henry, there is no story. We also understand that Ted's adventures will ultimately benefit Henry, who gets a dad who is fully engaged, professionally challenged and supported by a community of like-minded peeps who think he's super cool. By sending Ted back (or at least sending him back in this way), it implies that there is no more story to tell, Ted's story is over, his growth is done. It robs him of further growth and adventure, robs his son of a happy and fulfilled dad and robs the audience of imagining future failures and glories all shared by an indefatigable Richmond FC.

The whole point of this show was to show Ted building a new life, home and family after the disintegration of his marriage. This marriage did not provide the space or opportunity for him to heal childhood wounds or expand as a man. He was a small man, living a small, limited, conventional life. Which would be okay, if he wasn't suffocating in the process. He needed to find a bigger pond. It's possible that Ted's panic attacks were not a sign that Richmond was unhealthy or overwhelming for him. It's possible that there, he could breathe for the first time in years, he had the time and space to feel his feelings, pay attention to his past pain, move up and out and onward. Are we supposed to believe after that 3 years away and maybe 1 of therapy that that's it? He's done now, all healed, squared away? What exactly has changed in Kansas to assure us that he will be any happier there than he was prior? Henry was there then too. Little has changed with Michelle. His mum delivered some food and guilt then left. The show hasn't spent enough time in Kansas to assure us of Ted's happiness or continued growth. Literally, all we know is Henry is there. And BBQ sauce. (And Michelle's boyfriend has turned into a dick suddenly, conveniently).

What we do know well is what Ted is leaving behind. A rich and challenging world, wacky and wonderful experiences with a diverse community, a loved and actively loving chosen family. So are we supposed to read this ending like "The Wizard of Oz" which has the most disingenuous final line in movie history? Yes, Oz has some dangerous territories and menacing figures (represented by Rupert etc). But Oz is also where Dorothy's friends, her found family are. Oz is in bright technicolour. It's surprising and bizarre and bright. It's larger than life and full of weird characters and unexpected episodes. Oz is where we all want to be, to live, to stay. Richmond is Ted's real life Oz. It's where we want to be and want him to stay, even if only in our imaginations. In the finale he says: "There's no place like home but there's no place like Richmond either" (or something similar, only watched it once). This implies that Richmond is not his home, that homes are just where you come from. Homes are not found or created or collaborated on together. They aren't malleable, moveable. They aren't out there in the wild, potential beyond. They are behind us always, defining us by our often sad pasts.

Again, this idea is entirely contrary to the premise of the show and the progress of its characters who banded together under Ted's leadership to create a home, a family, a community. Unlike Ted's small, conventional family unit, his found family is queer-coded (as all found families are, since they suggest an alternative to traditional nuclear family units based on shared biology but not necessarily values). Logical families are the family you find after you have been ejected from the traditional biological family unit. They are sought and created, based on common interests and mutual support. They are made up of people who are likewise separated from their homes, due to distance, circumstance, fracture, whatever. The home world is displaced, but it is still home (and all the more precious for it). In this case, the queer-coded found family of TL includes and celebrates LGBT+ folk (took a while for them to get there but eventually they did), women, people of colour and any man choosing to do masculinity his way. This is the environment the show set up. This the environment the creators invited us into. This is the environment Ted left behind.

Now, I do think there could have been a way for Ted to return to Kansas and Henry (but not Michelle) that would have been consistent with and faithful to this initial set-up and its themes. But that isn't what we got. Like Dorothy waking up to a dingy black and white world where there's nothing to do but talk to your dog about all the adventures you long to have over the rainbow, Ted's Kansas looks grey and dull and muddy. And Ted looks like he only half-remembers the most vivid and important things he's ever seen and done. "Be a goldfish" is a useful idiom for dropping baggage that weighs you down. If you burn your tongue on your coffee but don't wanna be irritated all day, then it works. It doesn't work for a scenario in which you need to deal with the reality that you and your co-parent/ex have carved out very different life paths. Simple, wilful ignorance is not a solution to the sort of complex family circumstances that grown adults face every day. Just forgetting the past 3 years and moving on like nothing ever happened does not in any way guarantee Ted's happiness or his success as a father. Attempting to find fulfillment through that one! special! person!! is unlikely to end well. Whether it's a parent, partner or child, the burden on them is unfair.

Ted's predicament is a huge one but it's also one that has been there from the very beginning. They had 3 years and 30+ episodes to resolve it satisfactorily, using all of the freedoms that fictional realities can afford. And yet, when Rebecca brings up the various ways in which she is willing to adjust to Ted's fatherhood, these suggestions are made to sound ridiculous, impossible and totally futile. But are they? Are they anymore outlandish than any of the other highly optimistic plot points they've gleefully included? Ted flourishes personally and professionally in this milieu. And had they made a move earlier in the series, Henry could also have integrated into it and benefited greatly from it. (He clearly enjoys the club when he's there). As Rebecca implies, Ted has the opportunity to offer Henry a richer, wider and more diverse view of the world than he would otherwise have. He would have access to a queer-coded community that includes and celebrates, experiments and strives. He would see his dad loved, celebrated and supported. This show takes some BIG optimistic swings. If audiences were able to make the emotional leap of accepting Ted leaving his son in ep 1, then they can probably be trusted to make the leap of him staying, esp. if the writers took the time each season to establish how they will manage their relationship and the benefits each will glean from such an arrangement.

After all, Ted is not one to back down from a challenge. Taking the job at Richmond was a bold and brave move. This is the same man who pledged to "win the whole fucking thing". This is the same man who looked Rupert Manion in the eye then promptly whipped him at darts. But when it comes to distance co-parenting, he's not even open to suggestions? No "I appreciate you" for the boss/bestie, just oh-so-sage resignation? Please. These writers set up this predicament then refused to resolve it in a satisfactory way. Instead, they reduced Richmond FC to a dream and Ted to a memory-challenged goldfish who flails about when faced with the reality of a pre-existing predicament of his own creation. He rejects the help of others who could actually provide real-world solutions. Nor does he seem to register the possibility of a mature relationship with a woman who wants him and connects with him. Instead, he chooses to forget, keep swimming, paddle backwards -- not onward, not forward. He has a big pool, a new home, a found family that represents human complexity and plurality. But he chooses the small, simple and singular. A traditional three-part family unit that was supposed to make him happy but never did. He had his little holiday jaunt in technicolour land, a fun lil detour into an expansive rainbow family community. He came in, tinkered about with some people's problems: gave a middle-aged woman confidence here, supported a sad gay there. But rainbow families are not just a temporary playground for white cishet dudes with a saviour complex to get their own admirable values reflected back to them. In the end, Ted's found family had something absolutely vital to teach him that he did not stick around long enough to learn.

[sydsaint]

Props to anyone that can kick out of the V trigger. Because if I got hit with a knee that hard???? I'd simply cease to exist. Disintegrate on impact like I was in Infinity Wars.

[volvosandvampires]

I need MUNA (or any queer femme band really, but preferably MUNA cause I love them) to make a cover of “Ho Hey” by the Lumineers, but change the chorus to “Whoa, hey!”

I would simply combust. Disintegrate even. Cease to exist on this plane. Ascend to join the great sapphic continuum.

[koukaaa-descent]

thinkinh about the world building im trying to hit indigo&monsoon's world with .. collection of little lore snippets.

totally fun facts about my ocs

Monsoon dies in order to carry a star onto Gordion. The star itself is contained inside of its ribcage, quite literally burning it from the inside out. In order to get it there, Indigo fed the star to Monsoon.

The star in question is used to 'wish' Gordion out of existence.

In my interpretation of lore, Gordion is the name of a universe-devouring beast (also using the moniker 'Death'). Same appearance as it as ingame. As in; huge planet.

Sigurd has both a lesser and greater role. He is one out of a few others who have left logs & things that one can find. At the end of his logs, he instead expresses a wish to see Death's death. (Regarding Gordion; Gordion is meant to be widely regarded as death itself, here.)

The company creates 'employees' via piecing together usually mindless drones out of the corpses of entities, humans, and other odd things. A great majority are simply brainwashed into believing that they are human, despite anything that may prove otherwise. Since the company itself is rather lackluster in enforcing the brainwashing, there have been numerous cases wherein entire crews have gone into it entirely conscious of themselves. It is an incredibly flawed process.

Think of the company as a hive & the employees the worker bees. They are an attempt to lessen the universe's slow death in the maw of Gordion, for those who no longer exist to have a greater amount of time to search for a solution that, too, does not exist anymore. There was an entire workforce dedicated to slowing & ceasing the consumption. They are all dead and gone, and with their disappearance leaving behind objects that eventually became known as Comedy/Tragedy masks. Their purpose is unknown, as there are no traces of information regarding them and their creation left.

Indigo dies nearly immediately after Monsoon does. Monsoon disintegrates in his arms.

The only reason that Indigo does not immediately disintegrate beneath the star's power is because of his biological makeup. To keep it simple, he's closer to a bracken & a corpse than he is to a living being; he lacks several organs crucial to life and is mostly patchwork on the inside. Thus, he also burns like wood. Wet wood. It doesn't make it any less painful, though.

Nutcrackers, coil heads, and Masks/Masked are regarded as human creations. This does include the parasites within the nutcrackers. This does have 'lore' relevance.

Indigo is an unfinished product. He basically got sent through the creation process as if it were a blender. Thus, while he does not entirely believe himself human or retain the loyalty to the company, he does retain a need for purpose. That need tends to overshadow everything else. It can consume him, in a way, just as Gordion has consumed everything else.

If given more time, Monsoon could have become indigo's 'purpose'. I dare to say even a week more spent oblivious to Gordion's existence would have let him fixate entirely upon Monsoon. The unfortunate thing is that that's not how it happens, nor could Indigo change his purpose after he became fixated on the first initial purpose. It would be similar to taking away the thing a robot is meant to do; sure, it could do other things, but never will it retain the same ease, passion & desire to do those things as it did its initial thing.

Many species have been behaviorally changed in accordance with the story. For example; Nutcrackers actively guard specific areas within the facility/mansion. Their patrols are consistent rather than erratic, and rather than play their music only during confrontation, they continuously play the music at a low volume. (Something about war machines that sing). They are semi-sentient and intelligent enough to recognize humanoids and discern whether or not said humanoids are intruders upon the area they guard. A nutcracker will still shoot to kill if you are within its guarded area, but it will resort to warning shots if you are either nearby or bordering its area. They also recognize that the mansion itself is something to be protected but are designated to specific spots and, therefore, do not stray outside of those spots.

Coil-heads were once people (of many species) who had been eroded into what they are now. I will not be clarifying much on this. However; I dare say that attempting to trap and contain a star is a deeply terrible idea, even if it is in the attempts to erase a greater evil. Do you think a star cares for the guilts and grievances of such small beings? Of course not.

Indigo's skeletal structure is more 'animal' than it is human. In fact, he is actually missing some bones in some places, as there was either no need for them or the species used to form those parts simply didn't have bone. He can look directly behind him by looking directly upward and opening his mouth. (Image below.)

It looks about as odd as you'd expect.

His neck situation is kind of frightening. He is missing most of the vertebrae in his spine above the ribs, and it's mostly just cartilage and... stuff, going on in there. You could probably just reach in and take a wad of suspicious flesh out, bare handed. That's how loose and tender everything is in there.

Monsoon is very sensitive to heat and light, as one would expect a plant based creature to be. I suppose this makes the impact of its willing act of holding a star all the more important; even without sentience, without understanding, its faith in Indigo was so awfully strong that perhaps the agony meant nothing to it.

Monsoon's anatomy is odd, as it does not actually have bones. 80% of its body is simply solid fibers or material resembling cartilage. Its skull is the most solid thing inside of its body, as it is roughly 75% bone.

[lovelytreehugger]

I woke up one morning, and all that hate I've been holding or, rather, all that hate that was holding onto me was gone. I feel entirely, completely, and utterly tiresome. As though everything that changed me didn't even exist in the first place. I know not if I'm purely exhausted or if I simply, for the moment, can't feel as I'm supposed to. One day, somewhere, there'll be a faint memory left of a girl who was never really here anyway. Nothing would be lost. Perhaps I died with my brother. Perhaps it was my family who taught me all these terrible things. Who taught me the world goes on after because moving on was easier than accountability. A slow killing. I miss the only little light I had in a very dark house. Who was a comfort when our parents could not care. I wish my brother had never died in the first place. If I could, I would trade places in a heartbeat. Sometimes, I wish I had died with him. Eternal sleep is surely kinder. I do not belong here. I want to sleep, slow breathing turned quiet and still. I want to fall asleep on my brothers grave, disintegrate, and cease to exist.

[kingofthewebxxx]

Continued from here

“How very interesting! It must be fun to have such power but dull at the same time, as annoyed as I am I do not mean that in offense surprisingly, I usually do.” He takes a moment to take a long sip of tea before putting it back down on the table. Drumming his fingers silently against his right thigh. “Power, I get bored and I am a mere little human to you, the lack of challenge, the way everything happens becomes predictable, it's so frustrating” he sighed, taking a moment to hold his head in his hands as he gritted his teeth. “The idea you can take it all away, how often do you remind them? What would happen if they did? Would they simply cease to exist or disintegrate to nothing? Tell me everything, take your time” he lifted his head with a grin, the change of topic within seconds had put him into a better mood.

@grimxrcxper

[balgur]

Eyeless Gods

Another little fic inspired by @j-l-kepler after reading an ask that made me SAD and so naturally I have to write about it.

CW: Character death (I'm so sorry)

It felt as though all time had ceased to be, as if the very fabric of the world frayed and disintegrated and Eckhart was left in its threadbare existence upon the precipice of stumbling into the abyss. All air squeezed out of his lungs, his heart thundering in his skull. For once the tadpole rested dormant. All rested dormant.

His hands held onto Emerleigh. Her glassy, lifeless stare looked up at him and remained unblinking, unfeeling, unliving. Her lips slightly parted and her skin mottled by splotches of blood, she looked as though she could heave a dreadful breath and return to the mortal world once more. Eckhart’s mouth fell open as if to speak, to encourage her to wake, trying to summon the words as if recanting some ancient, forbidden magic. Eckhart had not realised he had already begun screaming the moment his eyes laid upon his sister’s. 

“Em-!” Eckhart worked to shake his sibling’s body. People gathered, people watched. Faces that felt somewhat familiar felt alien and warped. Just more eyes upon the two, the world watching them both. Watching Eckhart writhe in agony as if he were a trapped animal gnawing at a festering wound. He looked up at the group and could not recognise them. “D-Don’t just stand there, help her!”

Pity. Defeat. They washed upon the expressions of the people stood around as they struggled to console Eckhart’s ever-growing franticness. His fingers dug into Emerleigh’s cooling skin. He could not let her go, could not dream of it. He felt his head reeling with pain as if crushed by unseen weight, heartbeat heavy like bells in an empty cathedral. A violent anger overtook him and at once he erupted, lashing out at the group.

“Stop fucking standing there!” Eckhart’s voice billowed out of him. “Help her!”

“She’s dead, Eckhart.”

The words shot through him. It broke every bone in his body and then poisoned his blood to the remaining marrow. It pumped through Eckhart’s veins, seeping through every pore and every sinew and every collapsing breath he took. Another scream, something vicious and unyielding, as though peeled back through the veneer of normalcy into something guttural and instinctive.

“Get away from us!” Eckhart all but shrieked, his tail lashed about as he shielded Emerleigh’s body. “Get away! I’ll fucking gut the lot of you!”

“We have to get moving, come-”

Upon being approached, Eckhart slipped free his dagger and slashed it at the outstretched hand offered to him. It recoiled, and decided perhaps it best to wait for Eckhart’s return to camp once he had finished grieving. They gave him the space he needed, the space he asked for.

And yet once alone, felt the screaming silence sink its teeth through his flesh. He pulled Emerleigh up into a tight squeeze, her heavy body unresponsive to the gesture. Eckhart feared letting her go, letting the reality slip between the two of them. Such crushing loneliness tempted him to simply lay down and die with her. 

Eckhart let out a soft hiccup, as finally, the tears started to drip down Emerleigh’s shoulder.

[bluebyrd-bookreviews]

I read When Women Were Dragons today and I can tell that the author has a lot to say and wants to explore, but I don't think she necessarily did so successfully

The book follows Alex Green as she explores the magical realism world of the 1950s as angry women get fed up with their lives en masse and turn into literal dragons and disappear

It is certainly an interesting premise and one I will not bash. It was really interesting, especially in the beginning as it explores the world of a child who is never allowed to ask questions or receive information to help her understand the strange world as her mother develops cancer and her aunt then gets fed up with life and turns into a dragon, leaving her with a new little sister and the memory of an aunt she is never allowed to talk about. Personally, I love this set up. It's really interesting and gives a lot of internal and external conflict.

We read as Alex grows up in Suburban AmericaTM with her mother who gradually grows more fragile, a father who gradually grows distant, and a little sister/cousin (this fact will be brought up constantly) who is bombastic and the spitting picture of her birth mother. Alex is smart and attends Catholic school where she is constantly in trouble for her "crazy" ideas and she falls in love with the girl down the street

There are also supplemental documents thrown in there, typically documenting the life of Dr. Gantz who is the leading disgraced scientist of dragon research. I absolutely love the use of in world documents as a story telling device, but this was a total fucking waste of time, in my opinion. I felt like none of the information was actually relevant to the plot itself nor did it effectively worldbuild

By the end of the story, the dragons were honestly a total flop

I'm typically not a stickler for dimensions and the like, but the sizing was so fucking inconsistent. At some moments the dragons seemed almost anthropomorphic in their size and shape, other times they were large enough to pick up tanks. It's stupidly confusing for literally no reason

The other issue is literally the core plot of the book: why do women turn into dragons? At first, it's clearly anger and frustration, but about half way through it starts completely disintegrating and some people turn because they are lesbian and full of queer love?? Her mother never turns becuase,,,,, why? Alex never turns at all despite showing early on that she had the ability to, she just simply never does. Maybe this is just me, but I feel like I should understand the basic worldbuilding concepts better at the end instead of worse

And then the magic of knots. It is a motif seen throughout the book, especially in connection to Alex's mother as she was a mathematician who studied knots as well as being an incredibly skilled fiber artist. It's also introduced in a supplemental text where it describes a town who found magic knots that tied down women. Like, obviously there is a connection there, right? Especially as she gets sick and beings frantically tying complicated knots on her daughters hands as she gets dick again. But that's it. The magic of knots simply ceases being anything beyond a motif. Maybe that's why Alex never transformed, but it is never actually explored and it's extremely strange to me. They kind of just exist with an implied magic and connection to her dead mom but they don't actually, like, do anything for the plot

Final issue with this story: it very explicitly only focuses on white upper middle class housewives

Other societal issues are mentioned offhandedly, but they always happen somewhere else. Despite it clearly being about female rage (in the beginning), there is absolutely no exploration of black or poor women's rage. They all just kinda exist off screen.

It touts itself as being a feminist story yet only ever seems to discuss the most surface level white feminism that almost engages in 80s feminism that says women can only be liberated if they all become lesbians and live separately from men (aka misandry)

Tldr: I didn't hate the book and wouldn't stop anyone from reading it, but the world building and themes are incredibly flimsy and it engages in such weake and surface level feminism that it honestly leaves a lot to be desired. I would love to see this concept written with much more depth in all front because in my opinion, it certainly does have potential

[yuelun]

Resurrection: Explanation

They seemed to come from all direction: the mountains to the South, the sea to the East, the ruins of the Guili Assembly to the North, Mt. Tianheng to the West, and every inch of life far beyond each corner of Teyvat; each speck of ash, of chalk, of dust...

As I absolutely don't want to intrude on the game's events, past and present, I wanted to keep the nature of Guizhong's 'resurrection' rather in the corner of a... natural phenomenon. It's stated within Genshin's own lore that gods never truly die, and we all know that elements never cease to exist either. When Guizhong succumbed to death during the Archon war, the element that she had originally formed from never perished. If anything, everything always returns to dust, but she exists within that concept as she is the element of dust. It's why it lingers at her fingertips and why her attire disintegrates into it at its tips. And Teyvat is littered in ash and dust, and this only accumulates more throughout the centuries. For example, it is my personal (firm) belief that the darkening of the sky above Cuijue Slope is actually a dust cloud, or what we were made to read as 'black dust that choked the heavens' (and still does) as a result of her form having perished so long ago. If so, dust cannot disintegrate any further and/or beyond itself, and it's lingered for thousands of years. Has it possibly grown over-time, and does it pull more ashes into itself? All valid questions, but all in all, if it's dust, that means that it is her.

Keeping this in mind, my concept of her returning is rather simple. As I tie them all so very strongly into their element, and considering that hers is so overbearingly present throughout Teyvat, it is not far fetched by any means to think that the gods could reform from their element after regaining their strength within this phase of 'death' that is not ever final for them. Beyond that, I think it's incredibly dependent on the type of god that they are and what they are tied to, as we know not all of them are tied to a physical element (time, wisdom, to name two examples). With Guizhong being tied to dust (and ash and chalk, as Albedo notes the significance of in the creation life in his character story), I think it may be easier for her to do so, as long as she's capable of, in essence, using something as an energy battery. This simply leaves me with that latter and the timing for her return.

While I had originally decided on the Moonchase Festival, due to its tie to the moon, or specifically, the full moon (a meta for another time); I was a little silly and entirely forgot one monumental detail about Lantern Rite. It must have been a night during which my mind took a little stroll down the pebble beach. But again, I digress. The detail is as follows:

Lantern Rite is a festival in Liyue celebrated on the first full moon of the year and lasts for five days.

What is more symbolical than two of Liyue's founders to be tied to the new year in one way or another; a nation that celebrates its traditions and honours its forebears as it does? But outside of that, this doesn't come without inherent reasons for her directly as well. To reform as she does, especially to redraw into an appearance that perished long ago; it wouldn't be as simple as putting one's mind to it; one would, additionally, likely need a separate body of energy to generate the power needed to accomplish this. Again, pending the incoming meta, the celestial body she's tied to, the moon, when it's at its most significant in either power or symbolical importance (the faith/belief from humanity). A year's first full moon.

Remember the lone glaze lily that overlooks Liyue Harbor? It would be occurring on that cliffside, not chosen out of any notion of romanticism per se, but simply because of how it's one of the 'items' that she has always had such an inherently strong tie to (as we know, when she passed, the glaze lilies dwindled in number significantly, even if that had more to do with the land being ridden of tragedy), much more so than any other. Not only that, but Liyue Harbor represents the area that houses most of the people that are descendants of those that once lived in the Guili Assembly, who were in part, her people. That is another tie, for humanity is exceedingly important to her. Beyond that, from the cliffside there is a fully unobstructed view of the moon even before it reaches its apex as it rises in the east.

What does it look like? It mostly happens in the veil of nighttime, so the entire occurrence would hardly be noticeable to the human eye, nor does any mortal seem to venture out to that location habitually (and as for immortals, Zhongli and Madame Ping are likely its only visitors). But as dusk settles upon the land, motion is found in the dust cloud above Cuijue Slope. Flecks separate from it one by one, and as they do, it thins out, releasing the area of its gloom, joining flecks of dust and ash that gather from all sides of Teyvat to that one cliffside into a small zephyr of sorts. And it takes a long time, it's slow at first, and the higher the moon reaches, the faster they are carried on the wind, or rather, they themselves cause a breeze simply by their motion. And in the midst of this, as the moon dims, seeming a little less luminous than any other full moon throughout the year (but nothing too odd or inherently noticeable), the flecks gather into a form, one recognisable to anyone who knew her in days long passed. I can see it taking hours, and at its peak, it's a rush of wind that's caused by the whirl of them, and the more the moon dims, the brighter the form held within the flecks becomes, and the fuller and clearer it becomes: the same garments, the same hair, the same sleeves. She re-manifests into a solid and corporeal form as she once was, over a period of numerous hours. This would, however, leave her drained of lot of her power for possibly weeks, but ultimately, she would return to how she was, as they all are.

[sasorikigai]

“It’s time to come back from the dark.”

POETRY STARTERS II || @mamoriitai || accepting

💥 || The worst pain a human can feel may be having an hanging heart that grabs tight to the last tread; for a broken heart gets destroyed so it can heal. But the heart that is grabbing on by its dear life, the one that never gets his love rejected or confirmed, latches onto the last bit of hope. Death of Harumi and Satoshi Hasashi once turned agonizing and grieving husband and father Hanzo Hasashi into something frightening inside the mirror; a fearsome thing that lived between the fragile, yet deadly glass and the silver backing of the formidable steel. Despite him no longer able to see the one that he was before, he still can see the remnants, glimpses of the angsty bastard, here to take wretched life of the corrupted.

Yet, he was in the wrong. Perhaps he was a tree growing backwards; its roots to the sky, its leaves under the earth. Roots that futilely and desperately attempting to grasp the idealism that had long pulverized and disintegrated. The leaves of autumn long crushed beneath the trampling feet of the unpredictable life he led as the Commander Hasashi. Even when he himself hovered along the indistinguishable edge of life and death, with his thoughts befuddled and nearly severed, like the transition of day to night playing at the speed of light, shambling and clinging to the frayed thread of mortality, a body producing volumes of blood that would leak out of the penetrated bullet, as a shuffling mass of human flesh, the embodiment of living death, bodily function threatening to shut down, he relied upon the hindbrain, of his characteristic tenacity and resilience power him forward. Perhaps the autonomic processes of human in him tried in vain, to cease the deluge of viscera, but the vestiges of his humanity simply refused to rapidly being erased.

The suffering is intrinsic, in spite of Hanzo's outlook having transformed more optimistic. Simply based on the statistics and predictions of his character, Commander Hasashi may not exist in the upcoming years, even months, more so tomorrow. In this soft, quiet, liminal waves of twilight spilling silently across his thoughts, it touches Hanzo's beating heart with the gift of brazen dusk, as clouds float like unspoken words across the vast canvas of horizon. Perhaps it was meant to be a seamstress sewing oneness, healing tortured wounds once again with the love perpetual and eternal.

For Hanzo Hasashi is the one with an ardent heart and a hungry soul; one of the things he hungers for is happiness. So much so that as Sayuri Iwasaki's words gently float him back to reality from one of his deepest reverie, the curl of his genuine smile embodies his beloved as the one from the past manifests into the present, he crosses the vast tree line and over the edge of the blooming universe. How his eyes hold luminous and voluptuous stars upon the glowing firmament, as he finds the receding tides of gloom and anguish pass along with the bastions of sorrowful love unrealized. "I cannot help nor stop tragedy flowing into tragedy. Perhaps that is why torment has accompanied my life for so long," and love is pain, but you always knew that. For love is what sustains me.

"Storms continue to rise and darkness will fall, but we will be shoulder to shoulder, our souls to quell. You will keep me with a steadfast heart, as I share my pain, you share yours. I know you will support me in myriad ways, through my dimmed and grayed world, as I will continue to yearn for your guiding light, as I continue to rise, resilient and strong. For my worth no longer depend on wrongs. I will mend the wounds and find my way. Always." 💥 ||

[insanity-m-i-n-d]

Oh, Death... the immutable, inexorable sovereign of shadows, you are the ineffable architect of annihilation, a mistress draped in the shroud of unfathomable antiquity. Thou art the primordial wraith that slithers in the crepuscular corners of creation, the eternal arbiter of oblivion whose presence pervades with an indomitable and inscrutable inevitability. Your quiescence is not mere silence, but a cacophony of nothingness—a void so vast, so voracious, that it devours all sound, all substance, leaving behind an abyssal tranquility that suffocates the soul. You are the atmospheric vacuum, Death, an omnipresent asphyxiation, siphoning the breath from my lungs, rendering them barren vessels, desolate of air, gasping in a futile rebellion against your spectral grasp.

Your presence, O Death, is a perennial parasite, clinging with a tenacity both dreadful and dreadless, like iron oxidizing beneath a relentless storm, unyielding, unshakable. Your tendrils—those gnarled, grotesque appendages of gleaming, sinewy metal—wrap around my psyche, their talon-like protrusions burrowing deeper into the marrow of my very mind. Your touch is cold beyond mortal comprehension, colder than the void between the stars, a chill devoid of compassion, untainted by any vestige of the organic. You are the antithesis of vitality, the embodiment of an eternal frost—frigid, empty, bitter in a way that transcends the moral lexicon of mammalian life. You are not bound by the transient judgments of the living; no, you are liberated from them, an uncaring sentinel in the unfeeling cosmos, a vast, petrified presence, as indifferent as the dead rock of distant planets, as pitiless as the blackened vacuum of the celestial abyss.

Death, you are a colossus of nihilism, towering over existence with a grandeur both awe-inspiring and terrible. Like the impenetrable bulwark of a cliff, you loom over life with the gravity of inevitability, unmoved by the pitiful flutterings of ephemeral beings. You, Death, are the void between worlds, the desolate expanse between suns, where neither light nor sound can travel, where time itself freezes in abject terror of your approach. And your veil—oh, that impenetrable veil of obsidian dusk—encompasses the totality of creation, swallowing all within its shadow. You are the uncharted territory beyond the horizon of existence, the perimeter of all that is known, and all that will be.

In every atom, Death, I feel your imperceptible presence. You are the shadow beneath every particle, the silent harbinger of entropy crouched in the infinitesimal spaces between matter, the unseen architect of disintegration, whispering from the crevices of creation’s fabric. You are the void between moments, the nothingness in which all things dissolve, the chasm where matter ceases to exist and becomes a mere memory of form.

Your grip is constricting, a tightening noose of inevitability, squeezing the very breath of life from my being. Yet it is not malice that motivates you, but an inextricable necessity, a nature that cannot be denied. You are beyond reproach, beyond fault. You are, simply, the inescapable stasis of all that lives. You crush not out of hatred, but out of the immutable design that shapes the universe itself. And I feel you, Death, looming ever behind me, a relentless specter lurking in the recesses of time, a danger that approaches with an inevitability that cannot be outrun.

Death, you are the peace, the stillness that silences all movements. But even in this stillness, there is no true end, for the rot continues its silent work.

In the realm of petrification, life persists, transmuted into mineral, transformed into something eternal yet lifeless. The petrified soul, trapped in calcified prison, lingers on as a vestige of what once breathed, now caught in the cold embrace of geological time.

And yet, Death… you hold no dominion over the soul, do you? You cannot. For the soul is the antithesis of death—it is the spark that persists beyond your grasp. The soul lives, even as you claim the body, even as you encircle life with your iron grip. You do not rule the living, for life resists you, fights you with every breath, with every pulse of blood. Yet you linger, eternal and patient, waiting for the inevitable moment when all resistance falters.

But still, we resist. Ever unendingly, we resist.

[iniziare]

Resurrection: Explanation

They seemed to come from all direction: the mountains to the South, the sea to the East, the ruins of the Guili Assembly to the North, Mt. Tianheng to the West, and every inch of life far beyond each corner of Teyvat; each speck of ash, of chalk, of dust...

As I absolutely don't want to intrude on the game's events, past and present, I wanted to keep the nature of Guizhong's 'resurrection' (in my default verse of it) a natural phenomenon, instead of involving anyone else. It's stated within Genshin's own lore that gods never truly die, and we all know that elements never really cease to exist either. When Guizhong succumbed to death during the Archon war, the element that she had originally formed from never perished. If anything, everything always returns to dust, but she exists within that concept as she is the literal embodiment of its element. It's why it lingers at her fingertips and why her attire disintegrates into it at its ends. And Teyvat is littered in ash and dust, and this only accumulates more throughout the centuries. For example, it is my personal (firm) belief that the darkening of the sky above Cuijue Slope is actually a dust cloud, or what we were made to read as 'black dust that choked the heavens' (and still does) as a result of her form having perished so long ago. If so, dust cannot disintegrate any further and/or beyond itself, and so it's lingered for thousands of years. Has it possibly grown over-time, in other words does it pull more ashes into itself? All valid questions, but all in all, if it's dust, then that means that it is her.

Keeping this in mind, my concept of her returning is rather simple. As I tie them all so very strongly into their element, and considering that hers is so overbearingly present throughout Teyvat (overbearingly tragically so), it is not far fetched by any means to think that the gods could reform from their element after regaining their strength within this phase of 'death' that is not ever final for them. Beyond that, I think it's incredibly dependent on the type of god that they are and what they are tied to, as we know not all of them are tied to a physical element (time, wisdom, to name two examples). With Guizhong being tied to dust (and ash and chalk, with Albedo noting the significance of in the creation of life in his character story), I think it may be easier for her to do so, as long as she's capable of, in essence, using something as an energy battery. Let me get to that, and the timing of her return.

While I had originally decided on the Moonchase Festival, due to its correlation to the moon, or specifically, the full moon; I was a little silly and entirely forgot one monumental detail about Lantern Rite. The detail is as follows:

Lantern Rite is a festival in Liyue celebrated on the first full moon of the year and lasts for five days.

What is more symbolical than two of Liyue's founders to be tied to the new year in one way or another; a nation that celebrates its traditions and honors its forebears as it does? But outside of that, this doesn't come without inherent reasons for her directly as well. To reform as she does, especially to redraw into an appearance that perished long ago; it wouldn't be as simple as putting one's mind to it; one would, additionally, likely need a separate body of energy to generate the power needed to accomplish this. Again, as I repeatedly note in metas (see her character page), I firmly believe that HYV has intentionally tied her very strongly to the moon, and so this is what I believe to function as her 'battery'. Especially when it's at its most significant in both power and symbolical importance (the faith/belief from humanity): a year's first full moon.

Remember the lone glaze lily that overlooks Liyue Harbor? It would be occurring on that cliffside, not chosen out of any notion of romanticism per se, but simply because of how it's one of the 'items' that she has always had such an inherently strong tie to (as we know, when she passed, the glaze lilies dwindled in number significantly), much more so than any other. Not only that, but Liyue Harbor represents the area that houses most of the people that are descendants of those that once lived in the Guili Assembly, who were in part, her people. That is another tie, for humanity was always exceedingly important to her. Beyond that, from the cliff side there is a fully unobstructed view of the moon even before it reaches its apex as it rises in the east.

What does it look like? It mostly happens in the veil of nighttime, so the entire occurrence would hardly be noticeable to the human eye, nor does any mortal seem to venture out to that location habitually (and as for immortals, Zhongli and Madame Ping are likely its only visitors). But as dusk settles upon the land, motion is found in the dust cloud above Cuijue Slope. Flecks separate from it one by one, and as they do, it thins out, releasing the area of its gloom, joining flecks of dust and ash that gather from all sides of Teyvat to that one cliffside into a small zephyr of sorts. And it takes a long time, it's slow at first, and the higher the moon reaches, the faster they are carried on the wind, or rather, they themselves cause a breeze simply by their motion. And in the midst of this, as the moon dims when she's drawing energy from it, seeming a little less luminous than any other full moon throughout the year (but nothing too odd or inherently noticeable), the flecks gather into a form, one recognizable to anyone who knew her in days long passed. I can see it taking many hours, and at its peak, it's a rush of wind that's caused by the whirl of them, and the more the moon dims, the brighter the form held within the flecks becomes, and the fuller and clearer it is: the same garments, the same hair, the same sleeves. She re-manifests into a solid and corporeal form as she once was. This would, however, leave her drained of lot of her power for possibly weeks, but ultimately, she would return to how she was, as they all are.

[homeiswhereyoubelong]

I wish to fade away, I wish to cease. I don’t want to be seen in pictures or in paintings, I don’t want to be looked at or perceived, I don’t want anyone to think of me or feel for me, I just don’t want to fucking exist anymore. Feelings I can’t even describe consume me in every way possible, I never have a break, I am always in such mental anguish. I cringe at the thought of others perceiving and thinking of me and yet I desire to be seen and heard. I wish I could say that my life is interesting but No, my life is simply a meaningless existence. Sure, I’ve had many experiences that I am sure others haven’t had & they are unique to me but I feel like my existence means nothing other than those experiences. I don’t even know what I am anymore, I feel so very strange and not natural. I feel like an animal. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin, I want to crawl out of myself. If souls exist then why is it that my soul is this way? I have always wondered what I must’ve done before to suffer the way I have suffered throughout my whole life. I never had a break, I have been living in complete dissociation since I was 3. I am on auto pilot every single god damn day, I am disintegrating more & more. I feel I don’t even make sense anymore, I have tried everything to express my inner thoughts & feelings and nothing is fucking working. I feel like a shell of myself when “myself” never even existed, there is no self. Perhaps, this is the truth. Perhaps, we are all just living one big lie. We are the way we are right now due to our experiences, our choices, the things that influence us and so on.

Who are we, really? How do we know if we even have a true soul?

So many things I question, yet I feel I can’t find any answers but I feel I have them all. I know I exist in many different forms, realities, dimensions, but which form is the real true form? I know I am not my earthly self, I am more than just a human being. So many things I come to realize and I feel I can’t put it into words, So many questions.. I sometimes wish that there would be nothing left to experience after this life, just a complete cease of the consciousness. Sometimes I feel there has to be something out there, a different form & a different reality. This isn’t just about love or my depression, this is about finding the true real self, finding the world, transcending to ultimate bliss.