#he who is compassion personified

[themorguepoet]

Transliteration: Karpuragauram Karunāvatarām Sansarsāram Bhujgendrahāram। Sadāvsantam Hrudyārvinde Bhavam Bhavāni Sahitam Namāmi।।

Translation: Lord Shiv, who dwells in my heart along with Mata Bhavāni, one who is white as camphor, one who is the manifestation of compassion, one who is the essence of the universe, and who wears the king of the snakes Vāsuki as his necklace, I bow down to you.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

IF your requests are open, could you please do Hyugo, Geo, and Crowe with a calm s/o that makes them feel safe? Like, for Hyugo, the s/o is probably the big spoon, (was thinking of slightly taller but I think slightly shorter is better..?), someone who just loves to hold him - and for that little time, Hyugo is in heaven. And so is s/o. (Just giving suggestions, you don't have to follow the script.) For Crowe, it's probably similar? But Crowe is the prince charming - meaning s/o would probably have to be hard to fluster (?). The s/o would probably kick some ass if anyone dared say anything about all those three in a ny situations - or if anyone talked shit about the s/o's close friends in general. Geo is probably a completely different story. He doesn't like to be touched - but little things, such as little gifts (or maybe flowers) and the s/o's presenece makes his feel strangely at ease.

I LOVE your work! I can't really figure out how to write my oneshots, especially hcs - but if I ever do, I'll make sure to tag you!

WITHIN YOUR ARMS

Thank you so much for the kind words! And, if you want some advice on writing oneshots or HCs, just press buttons on your keyboard that at least somewhat personify what you're trying to say; but either way make SURE you tag me, whatever it is you cook up I'll feast upon till the day I wither and die. 😔

-- Signed solemnly by @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer AKA Sky Fort(resse)s and Burning Citadels <3

In Geode's case, you serve as one of the few people - that he's already well acquainted with - whom he trusts. Fully trusts. He doesn't know whether to be irked or content with this innate feeling, so he does what he typically does with feelings - repression.

He's very rarely someone who cracks, or makes it aware how weak he truly feels, the only people who have are Hyugo and maybe his parents - adoptive parents, but parents nonetheless. The point is, that odd trust makes him feel that if he were to crack and have the dams break, you'd do something different. You wouldn't try to rebuild said dam or freeze the cascading waterfalls of tears with ice...you'd simply let the waterworks run, let these feelings run wild and about, until they find their due course down wherever it is that feelings go.

Not that he will, of course. That'll never happen, especially if sober. The only way tears'll ever happen is if Geo's tipsy or high. He's never been under the influence. Doesn't want to be either.

The only reason he starts somewhat talking to you is if you're close with Crowe or Brittney. Or if either of them - or even Deryl - ask him to be more open with you.

He appreciates your nonchalant nature, you've got a moral compass and plenty of passion - but you're logical, reasonable, tolerable. He finds himself approving of you eventually.

You both get closer typically through Deryl or Crowe being with you lot, the former tends to drag Geo along regardless, while the latter wants to simply relax with his friends - and you lmao.

Anyway he'll only start cracking when you show a more serious interest in being his friend, whether that be inviting him somewhere or getting him a small gift. "Did Deryl put you up to this? What even is it."

"It's from me! We're friends - at least I want us to be - so, yeah. Heard you like these. :))"

"Oh". *long pause* "Thank...s. It's appreciated. :]"

Soon enough he decides he likes you enough to hang out with you alone, and that's when the true bonding starts. You become good friends pretty quickly - especially comparing to Geo's friendship track records and in turn it takes him significantly longer to discover he likes you. Not simply platonically.

To put this simply, Geo's a little bitch who fears rejection and humiliation and thus, you will have to be the confessor in terms of these romantic feelings.

Insert long dramatic timeskip.

When together, Geo gently, gingerly, starts being less stoic around you, he still detests being touched, but he'll allow a handhold every now and then, he enjoys knowing you're comfortable and content with him. Only allows things like hugging when severely comfortable around you, and only when you're asleep. You'll probably be watching a movie together and you 'fall asleep' (or maybe you actually do, who knows) on his shoulder, and after about 20 minutes that man is grinning to himself. Not that you'll ever know, but the satisfaction he gets is insane.

This man will also serve as the perfect #malewife. Will cook, will clean, will drive, will be a jealous little shit. There's no way he isn't. He definitely spends hours in bed contemplating what to do about these nuisances. ALSO GETS RED AND FLUSHED EASILY!!!!!!!!!! He blushes so hard his skin looks red. That's probably why he looks up at the sky when around you lets be fr.

In terms of sleeping in the same bed, it'll probably never happen. Firstly, his touch aversion; secondly it's normal for couples to sleep separately in Japanese culture anyway, so for him that was always the norm growing up. It'd take a LOT to get you both together, but let's make some magic happen and you're in a one-bed scenario (check out that one HC I did of this trope btw).

Only touching that happens will probably be hand-holding, but while that may seem small for most, for Geo that's insane. For him to initiate touch is even crazier, so if he does, you better stay with him. If something happens that makes you either scared or otherwise require comfort, he might let you hold him - him being preferably in a couple of sweaters to ignore the feelings (also I HC he's cold all the time) - BUT he's big spooning. He is not risking his hair being touched, no sir no ma'am.

"Hm. >:)" *silently smiles in the dead of night in a Japanese manner*

For Hyugo, you're one of - if not the - only thing that's remained steady in his deranged, messy life. He's surrounded by falseties, by masks, by faces of people who either hide their truth from him, or - like his brother - made it apparent how willingly they would be to leave him alone within this web he's entangled himself into, been forced to be entangled into.

He's been raised in wealth and fame, so he's learnt about reputation - and the vitality of safety - from a young age, an age that should've been saved for childlike naiveties...but not Hyugo. Since his youth he's either guarded, watched or puppeteered - if not by his family then by his reputation, and if not for reputation then the endless scandalous things he's gotten up to.

He's learnt to rely on intuition, on logic, on maintaining unpredictability that can leave most confused or deterred from pursuing any suspicious things he might've revealed sometime ages ago. He's got a good memory to, how else is he meant to memorise every alibi and lie he's ever uttered?

Either way, he never was able to simply be. To exist in himself and feel serene, at ease. Until he met you, that is; and it wasn't a short process either! This man's got intense, well-rooted trust issues. He fears attachment, but alas his heart decided that this one - this beautiful stranger - was someone...stable. Someone trustworthy, someone safe.

He's by far not a saint, he knows it, some nights it even haunts him...on rarer times he wonders if he's even got any humanity left. If he has any empathy left. Love left. The thought scares him, oddly enough. Until you come along and remind him that clearly not, because he feels something akin to devotion in terms of you, especially after a long time of knowing you.

When he does grow close to you, in a sense that blends the lines of platonic and romantic, he sees you as his aegis. His sword and shield, his camouflage and beacon. Not that he'll admit the extent of thee feelings, of course not. He's got a facade to maintain, or 100.

When you two eventually try out a relationship and find it works well, find you guys have stuck it out together for a year or so and decide to live together, he serves as a domestic cook and tutor. He'll help you as much as he can, when not MIA or finding himself occupied by important-people-duties.

In terms of sleeping in the same bed, it'll take a LONG time to get to that, but say you two are watching a movie and he ends up resting his head on your shoulder, gingerly nuzzling into your neck and then, before either of you know it, he falls asleep.

According to himself, one of the best nights of sleep he's ever gotten. And that begs the thought, was it you specifically? yes it was

He thinks about it, and overtime notices he's less anxious around you, his inner turmoil finds pause in your arms, and soon enough he's wrapped around your abdomen as many nights as he can get - and if you're willing. You've a calm presence, a soothing soul and your touch is a balm to the many wounds he's earned and suffered, both physical and mental - murder takes its toll on everyone. He'll rarely say it, but your calm is one of the things that's kept him relatively normal.

100% snuggle switch, loves being the little spoon on darker nights, where the intrusive memories and haunting thoughts return to drive him insane; loves being the big spoon when he's in a protective or possessive mood. If he's feeling affectionate he'll be your personal koala. "Haah. You're many things, Y/N, but you're not false and I pray - for both our sakes - that we'll remain together, that I can stay together with you. For you...I'm willing to try." OR... "Hello. Goodnight." *snores in Japanese*

Hyugo will sometimes decide to flirt with you. If you're calm enough to not appear fazed, he's gonna be the biggest tease possible, kissing either your neck or cheek when he's off to do whatever. Enjoys seeing your reactions to things he does, it brings him immense joy to have you feeling - and expressing - your contentment.

May or may not mutter itadakimasu before annihilating your cunt. May or may not get extremely horny at the prospect of feeling so at ease in your arms, because while being inside your arms are nice, he can think of a few places that'd also be real nice to fit in.

I'd also like to say I'm betting my amygdala on the fact that Hyugo sounds really melodious when he whines. He loves being touched, also. If he feels safe with you, you holding him or touching him makes him feel heavenly. He loves it, and he definitely grows to loving you as well.

In Crowe's case, you've already been friends ages, but even from the second his gaze landed on you he knew he was gone. Despite your camaraderie starting during the pinnacle of a fight he'd thrown himself into to aid you, feeding his newly innate desire - need - to protect you...he knew he was gone.

He probably hadn't realized the extent of it, but even after that fight ended and especially when you finally accepted his hand in friendship, seeing that stoic and distrustful glare turn into a gaze of a simmering warmth, a soothing calm and acceptance. In short, he found you ethereal.

And it was over the course of this friendship that he recognised how truly trustworthy and reliable you are. You're non-judgmental, you voice your concerns, you remain a force of stability amongst the dramas and chaos that is university. You provide a calm to his boisterous and troubled life. You're got an authenticity about you, another trait that Crowe adores you for.

He's got baggage, he knows it, yet with you he feels unburdened. Free from all the shit that's piling up behind the scenes, the rumours and the scandals and the insanity. You offer him a respite from that. An escape, one he ironically enough wants to be trapped in forever, as long as you allow it.

Crowe enjoys making playful remarks, flirtatious compliments; especially when he's jealous or feeling particularly bold. Typically you either bite and flirt back, or coolly brush it off, giving a snarky "I know." or "I'm honoured you think of me so highly."

Anyway Crowe catches on to his own feelings rather quickly, and is the most logical about acting on them. He aids you with homework, studies alongside you, spends as much time with you as possible. But as the years of uni go by, you both grow more distant due to busy schedules and a general social growth and/or decline on your part.

Crowe became a council member, the class president, gaining leadership roles and popularity as time went on, but at the end of the day; nobody - not even his current friendgroup, as awesome as they are - can compare to how safe and genuinely at peace he was with you. By your side.

Now let me say, for the sake of the argument and these HCs, that one day you both lovedrunkenly confess under the stars and have primal carnal sex and in general are so intuned with one-another spiritually physically emotionally that you guys end up together, like how you were always destined to be.

In terms of dating, Crowe will amp up his flirting, especially if you react to it subtly, or indicate you like it. He respects your boundaries of course, that'll never change. He also gets the #malewife title btw.

When you both end up sleeping in the same bed, it doesn't take too long for that to happen, considering how long you've known each other, and while yes sometimes you two go at it and have more carnal loving heated passionate *coughs*...ah, sorry. Anyway! Despite how invested you both are in each other, on nights where it's quiet, where you're listening to each other's heartbeats and breaths (a DJ can make a backing track just from that tbh), Crowe holds you in his arms and resists the urge to weep. Because he has you, in his arms, in his bed, in his heart and soul; and you have him in your heart, your mind, sometimes even between your thighs.

He's so in love with you it's beyond words, touches or gifts. He feels so safe and loved with you, knowing you'll support and defend him as passionately as he does you...and his heart swells.

Will typically serve as the big spoon, loves holding you in his arms, pressing you to his chest and feeling you softly breathe on his skin. Can be a little spoon sometimes, and whenever you wrap yourself around him, he sleeps a tad more soundly than he would normally with you.

"I love you...God I love you so much it hurts..."

OR

"Darling, you're everything to me...and you always were and will be. Eternally."

[toffeecoco1]

@perpetualgrey's comment on this post

Ok my first instinct was to laugh, but then I realised you might be onto something???

Shen Yuan is LITERALLY an impostor, who’s more far more kind and beloved by Binghe than the original. The Guanyin pendant is a counterfeit, but it carries the love of Binghe’s mother and is far more precious than any real jade could ever be.

The heartbreak Binghe’s mother felt after realising that the Guanyin pendant was fake and she’d been tricked was part of what lead to the gradual decline of her health.¹ In wanting to do something kind for Binghe, she felt that she’d failed, and this led to her demise. What is Shen Qingqiu’s entire story, but trying to be kind to Binghe, feeling inadequate at this, and dying? (More than once!!)

Guanyin is a Bodhisattva associated with mercy, kindness, compassion and unconditional love. She is a patron of mothers, and is called upon in times of fear, uncertainty, and despair. The Bodhisattva she originated from is seen as a saviour, through whose grace even those with the most negative karma can achieve salvation. Even when she is not worshipped as a goddess, she is revered as the principle of love, compassion and mercy.² From wikipedia, “The act, thought and feeling of compassion and love is viewed as Guanyin. A merciful, compassionate, loving individual is said to be Guanyin.”²

The original Luo Binghe appears never to have lost his pendant. Shen Qingqiu tells us: “It was the only bit of warmth in Luo Binghe’s dark world, always by his side, and even in the future when he was at his darkest, it could summon up his last dregs of humanity.”¹ He also states that “it was Luo Binghe’s biggest berserk button.”¹

Our Luo Binghe does not cling to the pendant when he’s at his darkest: he clings to the love he has for his shizun and to memories of his kindness, and later, to the lifeless body of Shen Qingqiu himself. His biggest berserk button isn’t when people insult the pendant or his mother, or try to take it away; it’s Shen Qingqiu: when people insult him or try to take him away.

From the start, Shen Qingqiu expresses truly unconditional love for Binghe. He spends three years showing endless compassion and kindness, actions which feel insignificant to him but are more than enough to completely change Binghe’s life. He holds no blame or resentment for the things he fears Binghe will do to him; though he doesn’t want to be tortured, he forgives Binghe for it nonetheless, before it has even happened. He sacrifices himself to save Binghe as his mind is eaten away at by Xin Mo, when he believes that Binghe just slaughtered a hundred Huan Hua Disciples, when Binghe’s reckless use of the sword is putting countless more lives at risk.³

Shen Qingqiu is a counterfeit that is more precious than the original could ever be. For Binghe, he personifies kindness, compassion and unconditional love. His regrets over his treatment of Binghe lead to his temporary demise. Binghe clings to him in his darkest moments, and he is that which Binghe protects most fiercely.

I always found the pendant’s role in the story to be almost lacking: it’s treated as such an important item to Binghe, yet in the end its return is almost anticlimactic. But perhaps this is because the role the pendant played in Bing-ge’s story has been overtaken by Shen Qingqiu. When he returns the pendant, Binghe is relieved and appreciative: but his joy seems to stem more from the fact that Shen Qingqiu held onto it and cherished him than from the pendant itself. The pendant doesn’t matter all that much to him anymore, at least not compared to how important it seems to have been in PIDW. Binghe doesn't need an object to symbolize love and kindness; he has a person to love, who loves him back.

In conclusion: Shizun was in fact the fake jade Guanyin pendant all along!

sources cited below :)

1. Seven Seas Volume 1, Chapter 1: Scum. Pages 40-41.

2. “Guanyin,” Wikipedia. There’s a lot more to her than what I mentioned here, she’s quite interesting.

3. Seven Seas Volume 2, Chapter 8: Death. Pages 154-156.

[the-eeveekins]

People are going to have different takes on characters or try and explore different directions with characters. But I think a core part of Suletta, something that makes her her, is that she would never intentionally hurt the people she loves.

Saying Suletta should have lashed out in anger at the people who wronged her is a deep misunderstanding of the type of person Suletta is. She would never. Unrelenting Tenderness is the title of episode 23, and Suletta is that concept personified.

We've had Gundam protagonists lash out at the world in anger due to their trauma, and they weren't well received. We saw Lauda do the same, and he almost killed a person he loved. It's shown to be a negative, self-destructive path. And it's a path Suletta rejects for love.

It is only through Suletta’s compassion, love & unrelenting tenderness that she is able to save her loved ones from their own self-destructive paths & untimely ends at the hands of the SAL. And it is only through that kindness that she earns a happy ending with her family.

I personally believe that a Suletta who isn't full of love and compassion for the people she loves, who lashes out in anger to hurt the people she loves, is so OOC that it's not even Suletta anymore. Because you can't take those aspects out of Suletta.

[monzamash]

tears and scraped knees — daniel ricciardo

fatherhood is about learning the art of letting go. dad!daniel ricciardo x you | 2k warnings – cute shit, mentions of injuries and swearing. masterlist

She was the light of his life the moment she entered it, screaming the house down and crying her lungs out. Pure love personified. She was the apple of his eye, the most precious gift he had ever been given and simultaneously the reason for the grey hair speckling his dark curls; the ones identical to hers. Like him, she was a firecracker, the joker, and the life of the party everywhere she went; smile bright, eyes warm. A rich chestnut brown, flecked with yellow, charming and stunning just like his.

To Daniel, she was your little twin. Your beauty was reflected in her in different ways – in her long locks and dark sense of humour, her tenacity and moral compass. She was strong like you, stoic in her beliefs and confident in her skin.

Smart, magnetic, a bit book-ish like you.

Sporty, energetic and kind like him.

Looking at your daughter was a daily reminder that he was half him and half you – a beautiful symbol of your love, your miracle.

“How ya doin’ back there kiddo?”

“Fine,” She mumbled under her breath, eyes focused on the perfect distraction from the morning ahead – her phone. 

You and Daniel shared a knowing glance; traffic building at the lights as you waited for the signal. There was no doubt in your mind that your daughter was saving herself from a stirring speech by bottling up her feelings. Her father was basically a glorified inspirational speaker in his retirement and she had been on the receiving end of too many over the years – each one cheesier than the last, she would confess to you whenever he was out of ear shot.

“Does Dad realise that I’m not one of his rookie drivers? Like, I know what I need to do to win.”

Strong in her convictions, just like him. A carbon copy.

“Remember to keep your elbows out today, especially around that Maddy girl. I know her dad and I reckon she’s dirty like him so watch her at the sta – ouch.”

Your fingernails digging into his forearm cut off Daniel’s spiel, his eyebrows furrowed and silently asking, ‘what the fuck was that for’.

“Just have fun out there, sweetheart,” You interrupted, saving your daughter from her father’s pep-talk, “Keep your elbows tucked in, shoulders with the part like you were taught.”

Daniel sighed and turned his attention back to the busy streets of Fremantle, weaving his way through the traffic like he was back in Monaco, living out the glory days. He was the first to admit that he was living vicariously through her and passionate about what the world had in store for his not-so-little girl. He saw so much of himself in her now, sixteen and on the cusp of what could be.

But you saw things differently to him. Her path wasn’t paved so clearly in your eyes and you made sure that she remained open to whatever life had to bring. She had it all in front of her; possibilities endless with opportunity and success but that didn’t have to be racing. Your dreams for her weren’t as rigid as Daniel’s; his plan to move the family back to the UK had been vetoed by you when your daughter came to you in tears, begging to stay in school and graduate with her friends.

“But babe, those friends don’t last. It’s all just in the moment when this could be her chance at getting her foot in the door,” He argued until he was red in the face.

“Says the guy who just had Blake and his wife around last week for dinner? Come on, Dan – it’s only a year away.”

“Realistically we should’ve moved when she showed an interest in bikes…” He grumbled, frustration simmering behind his closed eyes.

“What? When she was four? Baby, she’s only sixteen but still, she has her dreams set on riding and when the time is right, we will do everything we can to help her make that a reality…”

Your voice was soft; calming as you rounded the dining table and nestled into the open arms of your husband, “Just let her take the lead.”

Daniel dropped his head onto the top of yours and sighed, “You’re right.”

“I almost always am.”

That wasn’t the last conversation you and your husband had about Joey’s future, her grandfather and namesake chiming in with what he thought was the best thing for her budding career. She was the pride and joy of the whole family; everyone saw her talent from a young age but that kind of pressure had to be managed and that had become your life’s work. Her youth had been so hyper focussed on honing her craft that sometimes you felt like she had lost her childhood to the trials and tribulations of racing.

So you put your foot down where you could; namely saving your daughter from having to sit through another car ride hearing all about her dad’s accomplishments and mistakes – hoping she would learn from him but you both knew better than that. She was so young and so ready to make her own mistakes to learn from, like it should be.

She was stronger than both you ever were – a perfect amalgamation of your love.

One of hardest part about race day for Daniel was taking a step back. Of course everyone knew who Joey’s dad was and of course she copped shit for it. Your dad’s a flog and the only reason you’re here is because of him, had been a couple of the unsavoury post-race reports your daughter eventually confessed to you – teary eyed while she begged for you not to tell Daniel but you did because if anyone knew the power of harnessing negative energy, it was your husband.

But the hardest part of all for Daniel was controlling his emotions. He had Italian blood coursing through his veins after all, passionate and fiercely protective of both his girls. Once Joey came along, you knew the papa bear within that had been lying dormant would arise and alas, you were right. All of those crazy nights in bars all around the world, fighting off sleazy men had prepared him to be a girl-dad.

That side to him was glorious to you, endlessly sexy and usually rendered you useless when he decided to bust out the dad moves but to his teenage daughter, he was a total embarrassment.

“Racing under number 33 is Joey James Ricciardo.”

“Give ‘em hell, JJ!”

Daniel’s loud woo echoed through the small crowd, heads turning in your direction including your daughters and you could sense her scowl under the helmet – mortified.

“Daniel,” You scolded, smacking your husband gently, “She’ll kill us both.”

“I know I know,” He grimaced, “Fuck, I’m sorry – I can’t help it... That’s our baby girl out there.”

The image of your daughter, barely two years old, always flashed in your memory when he said things like that. It reminded you of the weeks spent teaching her how to walk. She was so small but so tenacious and you could see that same proud glimmer in Daniel’s eyes now as he did watching her take her first steps. It was mixed with the same wash of fear he had when he let go of her bike seat down that old gravelled road for the first time, praying to god she didn’t hurt herself and end up with tears and scraped knees.

And sure, that happened. Many Band-Aids and tubes of antiseptic were applied to her bloodied elbows and knees but she was a kid after all, feeling every bump in the road until she found her strengths and soared above the rest. She was as quick as a whip and even faster on track – destined to be her own hero but always inspired by her first.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Daniel mumbled as the two of you waited for the race to begin, his foot tapping on the dead grass and nails already chewed down to the skin.

His white cap was still pulled down, disguised as a promise to his daughter who wanted him to just blend in. Wishful thinking. But there was a time that she didn’t want him to come to her meets, insisting that her life would be so much easier if her dad wasn’t ‘the Daniel Ricciardo’ but you couldn’t buckle on that one.

“Your dad is a strong man but that would kill him, J.”

“But he yells out and brags to all the parents about me and the other kids bully me for it… He doesn’t understand how hard it is being a Ricciardo.”

“Hey,” Daniel’s soft voice startled you both, heads flying towards your daughter’s bedroom door, “If that’s what you want, honey I can stay home.”

She sighed heavily and clutched the lilac pillow on her lap, “I want you there, Dad but people are so mean to me and I just want to be normal for once.”

The mattress dipped as Daniel sat down beside you and reached out for his daughters hands, “You can be anyone you want to be, darlin’ – just say the word and we’ll make it happen. We can be normal… or try to be normal.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at your husband and give him a teasing nudge, “Try being the operative word.”

Daniel smiled and shrugged, “I’ll even wear a disguise. How about that?”

And here you were, hidden behind a couple of gum trees watching your daughter flying through the air and making her fathers hair greyer with every passing second. She was a force to be reckoned with and karmic retribution for all the years you spent white knuckling in garages across the globe.

“Now you know how I felt back when you were racing. Karma is a bitch, my love.”

“Maybe encouraging her to do this was a bad idea after all…” Daniel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his shaky fingers as you slid an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“This is sleepover camp all over again. You have to learn how to somehow let her go and spread her wings. That’s all she ever says to me, you know? I wanna be like dad – not afraid, free.”

“I didn’t even realise she felt like that…”

You softly smiled at your husband and pressed a soft kiss to his stubbled cheek, “Don’t tell her I told you.”

my hope for this little story is to build a cute world around it. i have a really nice outline for another part of this story so let me know if that's something you would like. and thank you to @vetteltea for her supportive nudge to post this x

[muzsmocsing]

Reviewing tgcf characters because I have thoughts

I finished S2 recently and I need somewhere to put my not exactly hot but like warm (?) takes because it's taking up too much storage space in my brain.

🤍 Xie Lian 🤍

It's a good thing I'm not into guys because if I was I would be on my knees for this man in every sense of that expression and his pet menace to society would mince me up like garlic.

So I'll try to be brief about my overflowing feelings about him. Xie Lian is the best main character I have come across in a WHILE. He's the embodiment of compassion and kindness. And also a cold blooded murderer. A babygirl. A father figure. A terrifying martial god. A silly little guy. A pathological liar. The most genuine man you'll ever meet. He's everything, and Hua Cheng is 100% valid in his obsession. I'm right there with him.

Rating: 10/10

❤️ Hua Cheng ❤️

Idk if we ever figured out who wrote My Immortal but I'm pretty sure we have our culprit.

"Hi my name is Hua Cheng Crimson Rain Sought Flower Red-Robed Ghost King and this is my evil weapon of death E-ming. I've killed soooo many gods with it!! My dark power is I can summon storms of BLOOD and SUFFERING. I have my own scary city of DEMONS and they all love me and think I'm HOT but I only want my BOYFRIEND who's the only REAL GOD so STOP FLAMING HIM YOU POSERS-"

Needless to say I love him. Being the 8 time winner of the Loverboy of the Century Awards with unbeatable records in the yearning olympics is truly a remarkable feat.

Rating: 9/10

(Bonus: E-ming. Cute little guy. Likes his stepdad more than his real dad. Not afraid to show it's feelings even if it makes it look like a muppet, 10/10)

🧡 Feng Xin & Mu Qing 🧡

Tweedle dee and tweedle dum gets a shared rating because they would hate to be grouped together like that and that's funny to me. Their dynamic is great, they're good characters, I wasn't sure which one was which until midway through the second season. But then also I have a pair of 7yo twin cousins who I still can't tell apart despite them not looking even a slight bit similar so that might just be a character flaw on my end. Oops.

Rating: 7/10

🩵Shi Qingxuan🩵

I'm doubling the rating because she is best boy and best girl at the same time. I love that I can use any and all pronouns for him because he's literally a pride parade personified and therefore all of them are correct. You don't get that type of chaotic fun just anywhere.

He is truly living my dream, presenting as whatever gender they want depending on what's more convenient and/or funnier in the moment. Super useful, for things like gathering intel and terrorizing Feng Xin by being a woman.

And I personally think we should crown her the new emperor. She'd look significantly better on that throne, with her Barbie-like radiance and flourishing Kenergy.

Rating: 20/10

🖤 Ming Yi 🖤

Listen, I hate to say it because I like a sunshine x grump moment as much as the next gay but he's just... not giving what he thinks he's giving. Everyone is whispering ominously about him having some dark devastating secret but MY point is no matter how big his boobs are in his female form, Shi Qingxuan could do better. I'm sorry. She really could.

Rating: 4/10

💙 Lang Qianqiu 💙

Just an honest man with good intentions and a sickass fucking sword. He did NOT hesitate to attack the infamous Crimson Rain Sought Flower on SIGHT and I respect a quick decisionmaker, even if it shows some himbo tendencies. He also has the same distinct energy as Fred from Scooby Doo.

Rating: 6/10

💚 Qi Rong 💚

He's got some odd dietary and moral choices going on. Definitely. But he's just such a fun villain!!! Being Xie Lian's nr 1 source of migraines SHOULD make me like him less but I'm sorry, every time he was on screen I was LIVING. He would do numbers on reality TV. Someone put this guy on Kitchen Nightmares, I need to see him 1v1 Gordon Ramsay.

Rating: 7/10

🌚 Jun Wu 🌚

He has his emperor status & DILF card going for him but something about this man just ain't right. If he came to a party I was attending I would cover my drink is all I'm saying.

Rating: 2/10

🔥Pei Ming🔥

I don't know much about him besides he had that one shady empolyee or whatever (could not hear the plot over the deafening sound of Hua Cheng's yearning) but I'm partial to a good manwhore character. The thought of people praying to him like "Hugh Mungus, who art in heaven-" really tickles me.

I know he's probably straight but I headcanon him as at the very least bi-curious because you can't be that hot with that much game and not use it for evil. (That evil being causing large scale gay awakenings among his soldiers.)

Rating: 7/10

❓Pei Xiu❓

Unreliable, unimportant, unattractive, unemployed.

I remember not a singular thing about him besides fucking up Xie Lian's daughter's life and also being on my last nerve from the jump. If you're going to be evil at like least be memorable about it, you know? You can't be a bad person and a bad character at the same time. Pick a struggle.

Rating: 1/10

📚 Ling Wen ���

I heard she committed some war crimes but honestly if I had to do an entire realm's tax returns by myself AND teach Pei Ming how to read (I refuse to believe that man is literate, just look at him) I would want to rage on occasion too. I hope she has a hot wife waiting for her at home to give her massages after carrying the whole system on her back all day. It's what she deserves.

Rating: 8/10

Thank you for reading!! Opinions might change once I read the books but as of now this is it. Remembering everyone's names has been a journey and a half so this post is sponsored by @kirstenly 's character cheat sheet go look at it! and everything else too!!!

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Crosshair's Character in TBB: A Study

“Loyalty means everything to the clones,”- Anakin Skywalker

I wanted to start my study with this quote because it basically personifies who Crosshair is as a person. Over the course of three seasons (plus CW), there is no doubt that Crosshair is arguably the most well-written and developed member of the Bad Batch. His journey and inner conflict isn’t neatly wrapped up in a little box and tied with a cute bow in only one season. No, his journey spans the entire show. It is very compelling, filled with a deep inner conflict, broken relationships, and the struggle to find one’s self again. In this study, I wanted to look at the major themes of his character and how his relationship to them has changed. 

Loyalty

Crosshair’s strongest and best quality is loyalty. It is everything to him and it’s why he reacts so strongly when the Batch leaves him in “Aftermath.” However, misplaced loyalty is dangerous, especially when it’s blinding. The core struggle of his character, specifically in season 1 and 2, is discovering who is worth his loyalty. Crosshair isn’t the type of person to just save his own skin when things get bad; S3 disputes that multiple times. As rude and off-putting as he can be, Crosshair cares deeply for others. Unfortunately, it’s the choices he makes and where he invests his loyalty that conflict arises. 

The Worth of Loyalty

A part of understanding Crosshair is understanding how far he will go for those he’s loyal to. 

“Do you know why they put me in charge? It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done.”

This line is stone-cold, but remove the context and apply it to Crosshair in general. It speaks volumes. Crosshair isn’t driven by some moral compass like Echo or Omega are. He’s not loyal to some grand cause. He’s loyal to people who’ve earned his respect. He’s loyal to those who value his skills as a sniper. Crosshair will not hesitate to go to extreme lengths for others. He killed Tawi Ames because he is a soldier of the Empire. He dragged a half-dead Mayday back to base because Mayday saved his life and showed him compassion. He went back to Tantiss for Omega because she saved him and he loves her. Crosshair’s journey is about him discovering who is worth that kind of loyalty. Who is worth dragging someone through sheer hell even though the optimal solution would be to just leave them? As Crosshair learns, it’s not the Empire.

The question remains, who is worth his loyalty? The answer is simple: Omega, his brothers, and other kind people such as Mayday and Cody. But Crosshair’s loyalty is severely misguided at first. There are a multitude of reasons as to why. One of the most obvious reasons is due to his fractured relationship with his brothers. By the time the entire Batch reunites in “Return to Kamino,” Crosshair can’t help but voice his pain and anger.

“They don’t leave their own behind… most of the time.” “You weren’t loyal to me.”

Due to the chip, Crosshair doesn’t understand why they left him. Did years of loyalty from Crosshair mean nothing to them? Did their relationship as brothers mean nothing? At that point in the story, he hasn’t realized how damaging the Empire is to him. So, he turns his anger to the group of people who meant more to him than anything else in the entire galaxy. And his anger isn’t completely unjustified. He was deeply hurt and he didn’t know why. Unfortunately, his beliefs about the Empire and struggle with identity push the Batch away. But as Crosshair’s feelings were continually challenged by others and his environment, he started realizing just how deep of a hole he’d gotten himself into. Crosshair’s brand of loyalty is something the chip absolutely would take advantage of. It’s fixating and fierce, hard to break. Only something severe such as removal or damage can break it. 

In S3, we get an exchange between Rampart and Crosshair. Rampart comments that Crosshair used to believe good soldiers followed orders. Crosshair responds that it depends on who’s giving them. This statement is absolutely true. Rampart doubts that Crosshair has changed, but it is Rampart who hasn’t changed. Both were betrayed by the Empire, but only one recognized where he went wrong. Crosshair now understands that his deep and fierce loyalty belongs to those who won’t hurt him or others he cares about. Loyalty is reciprocal and not to be taken for granted. This is a sentiment he shares with Howzer.

“Loyalty meant something to me. But with the Empire it didn’t go both ways.”

But Rampart can’t understand that because he’s only loyal to himself. And when you’re only loyal to yourself, you don’t care who around you falls. 

The Empire: An Environment of Shame

Why doesn’t Crosshair see just how bad the Empire is? That’s an argument I see often, but I think it’s important to understand just how manipulative and demonizing the Empire really is. Crosshair deeply internalizes his identity as a soldier. His value comes from his skills and if he can’t do his job properly, he will be discarded. The Empire is an echo chamber of that insecurity. 

“There are other ways of producing loyal soldiers”- Rampart

Rampart, Tarkin, Nolan… the faces of many imperials who remind Crosshair of what happens if his loyalty falters. He will be discarded. All around him, Crosshair hears the imperials speak about replacing the clones. They speak about the value of loyalty. It pushes him to keep proving his loyalty to the Empire. Crosshair is a sensitive soul despite appearances and he internalizes what others say around him. 

“Not the ones that matter.”- Cross to Hunter about the Empire phasing out clones

If Crosshair can continue fulfilling his purpose, then he will be spared, or at least that’s what he tells himself. We see this in real life too. Social media can influence others by feeding into their egos, only to rip them apart should they step out of line. It’s the same scenario with Crosshair. Rampart mocks Cody’s absence and talks about clone loyalty not being what it was advertised. Crosshair tenses up at his words, clearly bothered, until Rampart asks if he has a problem and then dismisses the issue without a care. The Empire makes Crosshair feel so alone. But he’s a soldier, right? This is where he belongs, right?

Compare that environment to the one put forth by Omega and Mayday. Omega is warm and compassionate. She cares deeply for others, even when that person probably doesn’t deserve it. As Crosshair struggles, Omega remains nothing but encouraging. She believed in him from the very beginning. 

“You’re still more capable than most.”- Omega

Omega’s constant display of loyalty and affection towards him eventually wins Crosshair over. He finds himself in an environment where his fierce devotion is not only reciprocated but goes above and beyond. Mayday shows compassion to Crosshair even though he barely knows him. He also shares Crosshair’s unspoken frustration. The Empire didn’t care about the clones despite them being good soldiers who followed orders. When danger strikes, Mayday doesn’t hesitate to protect Crosshair. Once again, it’s this reciprocated loyalty that shows Crosshair the truth behind the curtain. The Empire is all take and no give. Omega and Mayday display the opposite; they give Crosshair their all and don’t expect him to grovel on his knees for their praise or friendship.

Identity

But loyalty is only one major aspect of his character. Crosshair’s willingness to stay with the Empire also stems from his struggle with his identity. Clones are taught to be loyal and the behavioral modification chip only reinforces that notion. For Crosshair, it’s not so easy to just throw away something he grew up his entire life hearing. Thus, he finds himself in conflict between his loyalty to his brothers, loyalty as a clone, and identity as a loyal soldier. It’s so heartbreaking to see him when the chip partially activates. The chip makes him so fixated on Order 66 and yet, he can’t help but still stay by his brothers’ side. It is only when the chip is enhanced that he attacks his brothers. 

The Soldier and the Clone

The moment they are born, the clones are raised to be soldiers. They have no say in their fates, only that they have one purpose in life. Crosshair is no ordinary clone though; he’s labeled as defective for looking and sounding different. However, he has exceptionally sharp vision. One of the first things established about the Bad Batch is that they use unorthodox methods and they’re very showy. They also have a 100% success rate. As a result, Crosshair views himself and his squad as “superior.” As a soldier in the Empire, he expects to get the same recognition. The Empire is fueled by individuals who love feeling powerful. For Crosshair, to get special treatment because he’s a “superior” clone definitely would feed his ego. Unfortunately, the Empire also will pull the plug on anyone at any time. On Kamino, being defective is a death sentence. But Crosshair’s enhancement makes him useful; it’s why he was kept around. Interestingly, the more isolated Crosshair became in his time with the Empire, the more he began to seek companionship with the regs. S2 sees Crosshair shed his views that he’s a “superior” clone. He slowly begins to accept the fact that he and the other clones aren’t actually that different. We see this change in many ways: he tries to sit with the regs, he enjoys going on a mission with Cody, and he quickly gets attached to Mayday. 

Crosshair’s journey of accepting himself as a clone and finding companionship with others outside his squad humbles him and makes him an overall kinder person. It is integral in how he becomes disillusioned with the Empire. The Empire makes him feel so alone. Look at his room in “The Solitary Clone;” it’s no better than his cell on Tantiss. “Nat-borns” don’t understand what it is like to be a clone and his squad isn’t there anymore, so Crosshair turns to “regs.” He starts realizing that their experiences under the Empire aren’t much different from his. It’s Mayday and the mission on Barton IV that really pushes him over the edge. Mayday, a reg, understands him more than he’d like to admit. He’s lonely and feels like his efforts aren’t enough. 

Crosshair has let the Empire mistreat and abuse him for months, but eventually he snaps. He can’t do this anymore. He’s a person. Mayday is a person. Has his and Maydy’s loyalty meant nothing? Has the loyalty of the clones in general meant nothing? 

A clone’s identity is intrinsically tied to being a soldier. Why did Crosshair stay with the Empire? A simple answer is it gave him a purpose. Crosshair deeply internalizes his role as both a sniper and a soldier. He can’t see himself in another role as it is all he has known. What will happen when that’s taken away from him? Crosshair struggles with that exact dilemma. As I said early, being defective and unable to fulfill being a soldier means decommissioning and being discarded. I’ll bet this is why Crosshair struggles breaking away from his soldier mindset. He was taught to be loyal and there is no place for him if he can’t fulfill his purpose. Let’s take a look at his role as a sniper. Crosshair’s role is to wait on the outskirts and observe for danger. He’s supposed to keep his team safe from afar and spot trouble before it strikes. He’s a protector. That role gets shaken when his tremor starts. What happens to Crosshair if he can’t shoot? What happens to his brothers? 

S3 introduces the arc of Crosshair learning to accept help from others and becoming more than a soldier. A sniper is supposed to be distant, a loner, and always on the lookout. Once that role is challenged, suddenly, Crosshair realizes he can’t do this alone. He initially tries via brushing it off or shaking his hand. But it’s not enough. Both Hunter and Omega grow concerned. Omega takes the initiative and gently encourages Crosshair to try meditation with her. Even if it doesn’t work, the fact that he tries already speaks volumes. Throughout the season, Crosshair tries multiple times to do things alone. However, Hunter declines that proposal and says they should work together. The most glaring example is the climax of "The Cavalry Has Arrived." Crosshair is missing his dominant hand, weakened from his injury, and on top of that, it’s pouring rain and Hemlock has handcuffed himself to Omega. It is only through the help of his siblings that Crosshair makes the shot. He did it with the support of his family. 

In relying on his family, Crosshair becomes more than a sniper. He becomes more than a soldier. Even if he had his hand, Crosshair still would’ve had to overcome the huge barrier of making a steady shot. Either way, Crosshair overcomes by accepting the love and help from his family. Looking back, I’m really glad that this was a part of his arc. Crosshair has spent so much of the show alone, having to rely on himself and his skill to survive. But as time passes, he learns that it’s ok to have help. As people, we’re not meant to carry all our burdens alone. Crosshair learns he doesn’t have to remain distant all the time to protect others; sometimes, our greatest strength comes from each other.

The Beauty of Self-Worth

“Omega, don’t risk anything for me. I belong in here.” (This line is one of the most heartbreaking lines in the entire show). “So, I’m doing this alone. It’s what I deserve.”

A smaller, but just as important arc, is Crosshair’s journey of forgiveness. By “Tipping Point,” Crosshair has largely tackled his inner conflict. He knows who deserves his loyalty and who doesn’t. He realizes that he isn’t so different from the other clones. However, the guilt from his actions still lingers. Although he gets his message out, everything else fails. Tech dies, Omega is captured, and he doesn’t know what happened to the others. Crosshair suffers for a long 5 months due to Hemlock’s conditioning. His days are filled with the same mundane (and painful) routine and there is no sign of hope… that is, except for Omega. No matter what happened in the past, Omega undying love for him never yields. 

“None of us belong in here.”- Omega 

Omega’s words are reassuring and they hit Crosshair in a way he doesn’t expect. How can he, who has done these terrible things and has been forgotten by the world, be worth kindness? For all the times he said/did something cruel to Omega, she still came back for him. It’s Omega’s compassion that helps push Crosshair to finding his own self-worth. She loves him when nothing seems to be working for him. She encourages him to talk to his brothers. Crosshair wants to be accepted and belong again with his brothers. But up until that point in the narrative, everything around him seems to tell him the opposite. 

As much as I would’ve liked more from Hunter, I’m still glad he and Crosshair are able to have a conversation. In “The Return,” Crosshair admits how wrong he was. To come to terms with the darker parts of one’s self is important in forgiveness and the courage to do so is immense. There are things in life we as people can all do better. It’s what makes us human. The last time Crosshair interacted with his brother, it devolved into anger and pain-fueled argument. Crosshair so desperately wanted his brothers back, but it had to be on his terms. As the brothers fight again, Hunter antagonizes him into getting answers. A quick “blink and you’ll miss it” moment is that Cross’ hand trembles when Hunter brings up betrayal. Crosshair initially clamps up before biting back, blaming Hunter for Omega’s capture. But as both brothers learn to realize, both of them need to do better. The past hurts immensely because of that broken bond. Now, they have the opportunity to mend it. 

“I have regrets too, Crosshair. All we can do is keep trying to be better and who knows? There just might be hope for us yet.”- Hunter

Like Omega, Hunter’s words offer reassurance and comfort. Can Crosshair, a person who hurt his family, be worth that forgiveness? Hunter’s words all but confirm that Crosshair is forgiven in his eyes. Crosshair’s struggle to find forgiveness and worth in himself is eased by the people who he cares for the most. Even something simple as a hug from Wrecker catches him off guard, but it’s something that tells him “you’re loved and wanted.” As the vulture leaves the outpost, Crosshair slowly learns to forgive himself for what happened. 

It all culminates in the hug he gets from Omega in “The Cavalry Has Arrived.” Crosshair believed he deserved to die in order to atone. After everything he’s done and been through, does he still deserve a happy ending when it’s all over? Omega’s hug says yes. Tantiss is the heart of his pain and agony. In another world, Crosshair would never have set foot there if he chose differently. Perhaps Omega wouldn’t have suffered there. Perhaps Tech would still be alive… Without any hesitation, Omega wraps her arms around Crosshair and he is shocked. She reaches over to pull Hunter in and Hunter wraps his other arm around Crosshair, holding him close. And without any words, Crosshair leans in and closes his eyes. As the trio begin to head back to the shuttle, it’s Crosshair who reaches out and places his stump on Omega’s shoulder. In doing something as simple as leaning into the embrace, Crosshair accepts the love he is given. He lets himself be loved and understands that he is worthy of that love. 

This isn’t the end of Crosshair’s journey, of course. Crosshair has a very long and difficult road ahead of him. No, his PTSD wasn’t stored in his hand. Cutting off his hand isn’t a magical “cure” for it. Crosshair still has to work through a lot and he will. The big difference is that he knows he doesn’t have to work through it alone. With the help of his family, Crosshair can continue that journey of healing he began in “Bad Territory.” He’s so loved because he’s Crosshair, a brother, a protector, with fierce loyalty that could never be truly broken. 

Anyways, we’ve reached the end of my character study. Thank you all for reading. Crosshair is a very complex character and one who faces many trials. But no matter how many times he falls, he always finds a way to pick himself back up. At the end, he makes it. Crosshair has learned a lot, but I’m grateful that TBB team chose a long and complex route for him. Because guess what? Healing and growing as a person isn’t a “one size fits all” scenario. It’s a messy and difficult process. When all is said and done, Crosshair has one of the best realized redemption arcs in all of Star Wars and I couldn’t be more thrilled with how it played out.

[vindicated-truth]

What defines Joowon to me, more than anything, is his rigidity and absolutism when it comes to his morals.

It's his own brand of justice that—for better or for worse—he's unwilling to compromise for anything.

Not even for someone he has finally come to genuinely care for.

Not even for Dongsik.

What strikes me the most in this pivotal scene when Dongsik finally asks Joowon to arrest him is Joowon's immediate answer:

"I can't do that. I have no right to do that."

And the only way Dongsik finally, gently convinced Joowon to go through with it is by saying:

"If you don't arrest me, I won't ever turn myself in. Please arrest me now.

What makes this exchange pivotal is the nuance of Joowon's reason: "I can't do that. I have no right to do that."

It's not that he doesn't think that arresting Dongsik is wrong. He absolutely still believes that it's right, because it's only when Dongsik—who knows his Joowon well enough by now—gently threatens that he won't ever turn himself in if Joowon doesn't arrest him then that Joowon finally, finally concedes.

What breaks Joowon's heart here is not that Dongsik finally turns himself in, not that Dongsik will finally be arrested and very likely will be indicted.

Joowon knows this, intellectually, and knows this is right—if only because in the balance scale of his moral compass, it gives justice to Kang Minjeong's death too. Because he also knows, intellectually, that if Dongsik didn't do what he did with her fingers, they all could've had that small window of a chance to save her while she was still buried alive.

This, Dongsik facing that justice for Kang Minjeong's death, Joowon firmly believes to still be right. This isn't what's making him reel from the wrongness of what Dongsik is asking of him.

Because what is breaking Joowon's heart is that Dongsik is asking him to do it: that the son of the murderer will be the one to arrest the victim's brother.

It knocks him off-kilter from what he perceives justice to be, just because he holds everyone so rigidly against this moral compass—including himself.

For someone who never, in his whole life, had someone believe in him—had someone believe him—Joowon cannot reconcile the fact that Dongsik trusts him.

That Dongsik chooses him, exceptionally and exclusively, the only one he trusts, for this.

In this pivotal moment, it's Dongsik who makes Joowon reevaluate everything he has ever known, everything he has ever believed, not only about justice, but about what it means to be completely, wholeheartedly trusted by someone else.

Because what Joowon absolutely cannot fathom is: it's precisely because of the rigidity and absolutism of his moral compass that Dongsik trusts him, and only him, exceptionally and exclusively, with this.

Because for someone who's been a victim of the justice system for 21 years, used and abused over and over again by the people in power within the very system that was supposed to protect the innocent like him, and bring justice to victims like him—

It is only now, in meeting Han Joowon, that Dongsik finally meets the one person who finally, truly personifies the kind of justice he believes in.

The justice Dongsik can finally, finally believe in.

The only one who will see justice through.

No matter what.

[talonabraxas]

Manjushri – Buddha of Wisdom Talon Abraxas

Mañjuśrī, the bodhisattva, personifying supreme wisdom. His name in Sanskrit means “gentle, or sweet, glory”; he is also known as Mãnjughoṣa (“Sweet Voice”) and Vāgīśvara (“Lord of Speech”). His name means “Gentle Glory” in Sanskrit, in Tibetan he is called Jamphel Yang. He represents Prajna Wisdom. Therefore, he often appears in classic Prajna.

Many legend stories often say he is the master of seven Buddhas and all the mothers of Buddha. It is said that Prajna Wisdom is the teacher and mother of all buddhas. The Lord Buddha once said Manjushri was his teacher in his past life.

Manjushri is often depicted holding a double edge flaming sword on his right hand and holding a lotus flower on which there is a scripture of Prajnaparamita sutra (Great Wisdom). He is either seen sitting on a lotus flower on a moon disc or riding a lion. The double edge sword is called Prajna Khadga (sword of wisdom). This sword represents the sharpness of wisdom that can cut the root of ignorance with its luminous rays emanating out of it. The scripture on the lotus flower symbolises wisdom as pure as a lotus. The lion symbolized the stern majesty of wisdom as it is the king of Animal. It also means Manjushri teaches Dharma without favour or fear.

He is an important presence in Mahayana sutra, especially the Prajnaparamita sutras (Perfection of Wisdom sutras, Lotus Sutra, Avatamsaka Sutra. He is attributed with bringing the insight that leads many sentient beings to Enlightenment and he is considered the Bodhisattva of Wisdom; in Vajrayana, he is a completely enlightened Buddha. (This is not a contradiction, but rather, a path: the Bodhisattva path leads to Buddha Enlightenment.)

He is also one of the three “great” Bodhisattvas, along with Avalokiteshvara and Vajrapani. Broadly speaking, they represent three critical concepts, or the three virtues of the Buddha:

Manjushri: wisdom and insight (prajna)

Avalokiteshvara: compassion and love (metta)

Vajrapani: power and strength and protection

His perfect Pure Land is Vimala, in the East, and he is associated with Vairochana (Tibetan, nangpar nangdze, English Buddha Resplendent.) His other names include Vakishvara (Lord of Speech.) As an emanation of Vairochana — who vowed to emanate throughout the universe as a youthful Bodhisattva of Wisdom — he represents the “beginnings” of wisdom and our own ability to achieve it.

Manjushri does not give us the answers; he grants us the process to find our own wisdom. The beginnings of wisdom, and that first all-important insight. He especially helps us see through the delusions of duality.

There are also specialized forms of Manjushri: Black, Orange, Four-armed Namsangiti, wrathful Yamantaka, and many others. For instance, as Namsangiti, he is yellow with one face and four hands and holds in the first right hand a blue sword of wisdom licked with flame, and in the left at his heart, he holds a pink utpala flower; then, the blossom at ear-level supports the Prajnaparamita sutra. In the lower two arms are a bow and arrow.

Jampal Tsanju is another emanation of Manjushri with one head and four hands holding a sword, the Prajnaparamita sutra and a bow and arrow. He is pink or white with one face and four hands. There is also a three-faced form.

Why is Manjushri always visualized as a beautiful youth of sixteen, in the prime or beginning of his manhood? This important symbol reminds us that Manjushri is the beginning of insight. Within his practice is also the ultimate completion of practice, as represented by the “Perfection of Wisdom” text in his hand. But,the youth symbolism is vital, since most suffering humans, even the most advanced among us, could be said to be just at the “beginning” of understanding and insight. He encourages us, with his smiling, gentle, face — the “gentle friend”, as he is called by many — and his simple symbolism.

Unlike other Buddhist deities, his symbolism is ultimately simple. Just as the Heart Sutra (part of the Prajnaparamita sutras‚ is short and simple — clear and concise “Form is emptiness; emptiness is form” — at the same time his elegant simplicity is also ultimate complexity and deep, profound wisdom. Just as Heart Sutra expresses the vastly profound in a few hundred words, Manjushri’s symbolism of sword, text and youth likewise deliver a concise, yet vastly profound message.

Manjushri Mantra:

"Om Ah Ra Pa Ca Na Dhih"

[a-shadow-thinker]

I think there was a misunderstanding on some point.

First of all, the fact that the Mind Flayer is ultimately the big bad of ST doesn't in any way take away the human dimension of the story, on the contrary it strengthens it and brings a more original dimension.

It reinforces it in the sense that if you look at things with more finesse in a second reading plan, the Mind Flayer embodies through its actions on the human characters, a personified projection of the fears, of the psychological suffering which lies dormant in our unconscious.

He's the pivot point which will bring the human characters who are impacted by his actions, to express this human aspect, this human aspect laid bare which will face its trials by showing all its beauty just like all its horror.

He's a spotlight that will highlight humans, show their abilities to demonstrate bravery, strength, to grow, to show compassion from our heroes.

There is nothing problematic for the Mind Flayer about being the big bad in a human story, it's through the emotions of your human characters, their story, how you appeal to the public through them you will tell this human story.

It doesn't pass through its antagonism, but through its characters who live this adventure, with whom the audience identifies and feels this humanity in them which echoes theirs.

You tell a human story through the emotions that your human characters make you feel, through their trials and how they will react and come out of these trials, how it will impact them and finaly you, the public, what you feel inside in echo of your own humanity.

For Henry, yes he can be completely forced to do these things by the Mind Flayer.

As you can see in ST VR, the Mind Flayer distorts Henry's psychic reality.

Others have previously carried out relevant analyzes on this subject.

Which leads to something very insidious, a distortion of reality for Henry, in what he feels and experiences, what he wants, leading him to think he is in control

(to be able to better control him, what a perfect puppet is the one who is unaware that she is being controlled, no risk of resistance and rebellion),

making him believe that what he is doing is right, leading him into dead ends where he has no choice.

I use this example often, but it’s the one that sticks so well.

See Kylo Ren, Palpatine whispers, torments him since he was in his mother's womb ! All his life he has had dark thoughts, that he is a horrible person, that he hurts others, that no one likes him, etc...

At the beginning the character rejects his ideas, refuses to believe in them and attaches himself to the light.

But events caused by Palpatine will force him to believe his dark ideas, events which will isolate him and lead him to think that he can only be a bad person and that his place is in darkness.

You have a very similar pattern with Henry, his dark thoughts were perhaps already latent, but the Mind Flayer blew on him, blew on the embers intentionally to force him to do what he wants, to make him vulnerable too to his manipulations and make him think these horrible things.

The Mind Flayer clearly exhibits predatory behavior.

I am convinced that season 5 will show us since we will explore Henry's memories in the 80s, Henry's suffering for the loss, his sister in particular (someone pointed out that Holly's kidnapping was due to fact that he has not mourned, that he is in this delirium of taking her for his sister), that he never wanted that and that all of this is the work of the Mind Flayer who used this instability/weakness to manipulate him as he pleases.

In the scene where Henry scares his mother with the spiders you clearly see young Alice's foresight about this "you're not Henry".

that too, from a human point of view, is strong and resonates with many people.

Depression, autism, loneliness, abusive grooming, the dark side of the human spirit, etc...

It's in exaggerated form in the fictional framework of the show, but we clearly have these human aspects highlighted.

This goes back to what i was saying above, don't just see the Mind Flayer as "a monster/supernatural creature" but as a metaphor for the dark iceberg of the human psyche.

And that’s understandable.

It honestly has a lot more personality than a basic human, especially in a fantasy series !

I also think we have 2 plots to distinguish :

You actually have the human with all the political/military intrigue with the Russians in particular, but you also have the "magic" intrigue, the quest of the hero from the famous initiatory tale on El's side (with Will probably also in the S5 in view of what is teased about the character)

And with the DnD inspiration and many things relating to adventure in the show, to fantasy, you clearly have the hero's initiatory journey in addition to the human dimension.

But both complement each other anyway...

After all, isn't a hero defined by his human values ?

[imbecominggayer]

Writing Advice: How To Form A Plot

This not-so-little post will be a quick little rundown on how I start making my plots come to life.

How I go from daydreaming to actually having details

How I choose to eliminate what is going in and what isn't.

A) Find The Core Premise Of My Idea: What if?

By core premise, what I mean is the narrative device that will punctuate the narrative. What is the question that inspired this world. What is the world trying to subvert. What is the symbolism!

This will serve your prioritization. Basically, when you are daydreaming about the world there are no limits! But you need to have limits in order to understand where you want this plot and characters to go. The Core Premise functions as a sculpture. What do I need to prioritize? What themes and characters do I need to cut out because they don't serve the story?

For example:

Claude and Gabriel: This was inspired by the question "what if christianity was reflective of my values while still keeping the central themes of compassion, forgiveness, and love?"

Verne and Stanse: "What if everyone understood how an all-consuming desire for love and understanding can be monsterous?"

Yuuma and Jukka: "What if we didn't know who we were? What if we weren't that human? Could we still find love?"

Nonkosi and Yituing: "What if compassion was strength personified? What if Wrath was the weakest thing out there?"

B) Be Ready To Cut Things And Change Them Out!

Did you know that Gabriel wasn't originally an angel? He actually used to be a devil! But no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't get this characterization to work!

I took a step back. Looked at my christian inspiration and said "what if [UNNAMED CHARCTER] was an angel?"

I still kept some aspects of Gabriel's old devil origins. He acts a lot like a moral succubus but he definitely fits better into the world!

Did you know that Stanse wasn't Verne's love interest originally? Verne actually used to be in love with Edmund and Stanse was originally in love with Cident!

I realized later on that the themes that Edmund were diving into just didn't fit into the themes I was working on! Edmund was focused on regret meanwhile everyone else in the world was focus on the struggle with acceptance, love, and understanding!

After I brought Edmund down to the role of a good friend for Verne, I decided that Stanse's themes with understanding definitely fit with Verne. And that's how that love story came to be :3

What i'm trying to say is that sometimes your ideas suck. Sometimes they just don't work with the other aspects of the story. The themes are not lining up. In that case, stop trying to brute force it and start from scratch.

Before I was so heartbroken about having to start all over again that I just kept trying to make something work that was never going to. Trust me, you'll save a lot more time if you work with your themes and characters.

[otrtbs]

i need more historian nat: what's your favourite artwork in ahb and what's the lore behind it 🤭

OOOOOOOOH THIS IS SOOOO HARD. SO HARD.

Because almost all of the works in Art Heist, Baby! are chosen because I've seen them in person, or because I yearn to see them in person with a longing so intensely that it eats me up.

Okay, I think I'm going to have to go with Allegory of Charity by Francisco de Zurbarán (1655). (See is currently housed at the Prado museum in Madrid but she's not on display for the public to see).

I mean look at her, she's gorgeous!!

I think the flaming heart is pretty famous in its own right (often cropped without the complete image) and I am slut for catholic imagery (as a girl who went to catholic school for a bit and grew up catholic). So, let's discuss!! 😋

Zurbarán was a Spanish Baroque painter mainly known for his religious oil paintings (s/o to his still life with lemon, oranges and a rose though. that painting goes hard). He was a part of the Catholic counter-reformation in which a resurgence of catholic religious art, symbolism, imagery, and even institutions (such as seminaries and churches) that popped up in response to growing protestant support. Zurbarán was often commissioned to paint for monasteries and the king of Spain, is known to be "the Spanish Caravaggio" for his use of similar harsh lighting styles and painting techniques (chiaroscuro and tenebrism).

Zurbarán's works are often highly stylized and Allegory of Charity is no different. She is very posed and poised and looks out at the audience, directly (even the dramatic folds in her clothing aren't probable, but are done for visual effect, and not life-immitating accuracy). The central figure in the work is Charity personified, and she holds in her hand the flaming sacred heart of Jesus. The dove above, that is bursting into flames, represents the holy spirit.

-> Personal non-art historian nat input here -- there is just something about the way she looks out at the viewer. charity, with her compassion, or pity, making direct eye-contact with you. like, i would kill to see it in person...

Charity is seen clothed in red (the color of love and fittingly charity and green (the color of life and abundance).

Anyway, I think it's mentioned very briefly, in passing in AHB! but I made her viewable to the public (and to Regulus and James) because the Prado Museum in Madrid is gatekeeping her from the public!!!! I love this painting so much, so much. It's hard to describe, but she feels like an old friend. Like we'd be kindred spirits or something. And,,, I want to see her.

Okay thank you for listening to my little rant <3

[happyk44]

My take has always been Nyx births them in Tartarus but sends them away to the upper world when they're old enough because she has seen the world below from the night sky and thinks it is beautiful and lovable, compared to the dark monstrous and screaming expanse of Tartarus, a chamber, a prison, a place of torture. She loves her children as much as the night sky, a boundless entity can. She would like them to experience the world the way she sees the mortals do, how other gods and spirits do. Running across cool grass as the sun dips and day fades into midnight blue and wine-dark purple. Laughing around a warm fire. Comfortable and safe from the monsters that lurk.

The eldest two are as boundless as she is, as boundless as their father. They take to mortal form more frequently than their parents but were not truly born of it. She remembers the strange sensation of creating a sunrise. Heat and daybreak rising over the murky ocean. The world was dark in the beginning. Then the sun came, Helios and his silly chariot, and so followed the bright of day to truly illuminate the world. The twins had been born hand in hand so entwined in one another she had not realized right away there were two of them. Even in their choice of differentiation, they were so similar - day and the bright upper sky. Hemera and Aether. Glowing light blue air and soft clouds with the sun shimmering nearby.

Then long after Charon came - the oldest of her personified children. Born with skin and bones and a quiet sullen demeanour. Like Hades who lives above. But Hades is reclusive and seems picky about who joins him. He is followed only by the dead. He is far too busy, nonetheless, to handle a child by his side - establishing his kingdom and building his home from the scraps left behind.

Yes, the Underworld is beautiful, cooler than Tartarus, more comforting to those with flesh, but less so than the upper world. That was created for those who breathe with lungs and have beating hearts, so when Charon is spry enough that he walks and runs and snaps at monsters that encroach upon his space, she guides him up and out into the wake of the night.

Shadows lick at his feet. His ever present father will keep watch when the sunrises and Nyx must set. Erebus agrees with her. Charon seems brighter, better up on top than far down below where only the most reviled of persons are chained and burned. The only screams he hears are from the birds chattering. He was born of night and darkness, so he says good night to his sister and his brother, and greets his mother with a cool good morning. He hunts sleeping animals with his father to guide his way. He prefers to fish from the nearby river, sit in the shallow, slower end of the rushing stream. He speaks aloud, knowing his family listens. He expects little response in return.

After him, Moros arrives. Dark and brooding. Where Charon is sullen and withdrawn, Moros is brash and engaging. He dips away from his older brother to bother nearby towns. He tips the scales, adjusts the poles. The way of the world swells and shifts around him. Knives miss the meat to be butchered and sever fingers. Bows slip free of knots and spill collected materials to the ground. The sickly sob. Children recoil in fear.

He is unbothered. He enjoys their detachment, their worries. As he grows, Charon finds him work with the elderly. It's important, he says, that you understand mortals. It is cruel to befit fear upon them all because you have no empathy. Nyx listens closely, Erebus at her side as their son speaks quiet. His monotone voice echoes across the open air. I have no empathy, but I have lived long enough to know that mortals desire compassion. And I have lived long enough to know that being feared becomes tiring in the end.

Moros adjusts. Still he brings doom, but the old are unworried. They know what is to come. The finality of breath. The stop of their hearts. The ceasing of their brains. They know that they will close their eyes and reawaken with Hades' hand outstretched for theirs. Without terror, they tell him stories of their lives. They spill their secrets as he cleans their laundry and cuts their food. He holds their arms as they take feeble steps around the home they wish to die in.

Sometimes he knows they will not and through him they know they will not, but he promises to carry them back and lay them to rest in the ground they own, the earth they cultivated. He is not capable of empathy. He barely understands sympathy. But compassion is there, in faintest amounts, and it is enough.

Thanatos and Hypnos bear witness to the night skies in the months that follow. It is almost amusing the difference between her boundless children and their fleshed out siblings. Daylight and bright skies versus the boy child who digs graves and the boy who bears doom, the boy who finds the dead as easily as he breathes and the boy who sleeps like a cat. the girl who watches battles with hunger and feasts upon the death the daughter who knows only misery and the boy who can only assign blame. She loves them all the same. She sees how mortals exile those who do not fit, who are dark but not cruel, and does not understand. Perhaps it is because she was not born into the world with a beating heart.

Only glittering stars and a spot for the bright moon.

It is quiet with the twins. Instead of bothering mortals, Hypnos spends most of his time attached to his twin's back, dozing off onto strong shoulders. Thanatos carries him like it is his job. Lifts him off from the ground without a word. He follows Charon into the woods each day. The dead come easy to him. More frequently that he had before, Charon carries bodies home to their new graves.

I can feel them, Thanatos says. When they're gone.

Do you hurt? Charon asks. Mangled bodies are not unfamiliar to them. Torn animals picked apart and rotting are commonplace. The state of their corpses indicate pain though. Charon worries.

But Thanatos simply lowers his sleeping brother to the soft grass below and says, No. It's strange. I don't notice them until they're gone. It’s like a call in my head. They could be near me and I would not notice until their end. He turns to his older brother digging another grave. Their souls. Their ghost. Do you see them?

Sometimes, Charon says. But not usually.

Thanatos is comforted by that. Sometimes is better than never. Hypnos never sees ghosts. But he sees other things in the moments he's awake. When they enter mortal towns, he'll gaze with half-lidded eyes upon the mortals that pass by and murmur into Thanatos' ear about their secrets. Their fears. Their days.

Their dreams.

Within the wisps of sleep, Hypnos descends. He coaxes the tired to rest, coaxes babies to calm, settle the elderly and sick down for their final night. Sometimes Oizys reaches out and so he settles inside the soft world of a mortal mind, slipping through their cloud-like subconscious and drawing out what they hold back.

Processing fears is important to living life, he realizes. In waking moments, he speaks with his brother about nightmares. In sleeping dreams, he slips them along. Most dreams are simple days. He likes to watch from the side, a hidden audience. Even the most mundane is entertaining.

Then Ker comes along soon after. She is sharp-toothed and mean. Violent death and bitter disease. There is nothing mundane with her. Only seeking the vicious and cruel. She feasts on the flesh of the dead, hovering near Thanatos as he counts down the seconds to the last beat of a heart.

But she does not join them at meals. Her bloodied mouth is hidden away. The bits of skin dug under her nails are scrubbed after every meal. She knows her nature is unlike the others. That she is worse. She crowds around battles with a hunger for the flesh that will be slain. She brings plague with a single touch.

Maybe she would feel better if she was not looking at her counterpart in all things dying. Thanatos is calm and unbothered. He does not itch for blood. He does not split at the seams and feast on the dead. He is calm and collected, almost a mimicry of Charon's sturdiness. She is only a girl hungering for anguish and devastation. She cannot end a life with her own hands. But she can encourage it, and so thoroughly she does.

Charon settles beside her. Water spills over their feet. Why do you split?

Feels better, she says. There is so much inside me. I need to be more to let it out. Her reflection in the river flickers in twain. Mortals think that there are more of her than there are. The Keres, they call her. But she is just Ker. She separates into many, sloughing off her other selves like old skin, and encircles the bloodied crowd. Is it bad?

No, Charon says. Just new.

I like myself, she says. But others don't. It's annoying. She grimaces. I wish I could be better.

You are what you are. With his nail, he scrapes away a fried bloodied mark across her cheek. Do not be disappointed that others cannot handle you. The ones who can are the ones who matter. We all like you. Why do you think we don’t?

Their bodies do not sever in two, in fourths, in tens, in thousands. They do not drag corpses back home to devour because the food on the table is barely edible to them. They do not force disease on those trying to recover from painful wounds, encouraging them to fail, to suffer, to die. Mortals do not recoil with a terrified immediacy they do not understand when her siblings walk by. Even Moros has more to him than the doom he spreads.

She does not.

Maybe I don’t like myself, she considers. It’s hard being this way. There is no one else.

Charon’s arm is comfortable around her shoulders. Affection always feels so fleeting. Though she recognizes that she pulls away. It feels foreign to her as it is given. Out of step with who she is. But she does not pull away. Instead she leans into him and feels the water rush around her feet. It is cool and forgiving. She is hot and merciless.

It’s true. We will not understand you or the viciousness in your heart, Charon tells her. But we are not unsettled by you. You are why battles end. Without pain, without struggle, there would be no need to speak for peace. If all deaths were as calm as falling asleep, then people would keep fighting. But blood spilled, mortals hacked apart, watching your friends suffer beside you, delivering the dead in pieces back to their homes - that is what forces peace.

She tilts her head up and considers his words. I didn’t think of that.

Nobody does, he says. But it is true. Without death, fighting would never end. And without violence, peace would never be wrung. Whether by compromise or submission. He splashes her ankles with water. Eat with us, Ker. We miss you at the table.

The twins and Ker grow and venture far and wide. They sit beside battles and watch quietly. They walk through towns and villages. Hypnos murmurs sleepy words about dreams of freedom in the beaten and belittled. Ker manufactures suffering and bloody ends, horrible spouses and egregious people falling down stairs. Thanatos brings calm to the old and sick.

Charon disappears in the days they are gone. Months go by in search. Eventually, they find him, guided by their mother and father. He is beneath the earth, beneath their feet. They fly over raging waters and approach the god who has employed him.

He is working, Hades says. So, no, he cannot go free right now. But you are welcome to stay.

Oizys and Momus are born next. Erebus coddles them more than she does. But he is in every nook and cranny. He sees distress trapped in locked closets, follows bare feet as they run from screams and swords. The two fight with bitter words. When they come of age, Charon returns to the upper world. The family home welcomes him with a familiar coolness and wisping darkness.

He is a sharp-tongued mediator for the fighting twins and forces them apart with calloused hands and snarling eyes. They always silence themselves when he snaps. They become accommodating to their brother who drags fallen bodies out from the trees and buries them in plots around the home. When he appears, Momus holds back his bitter blaming screams and Oizys keeps tight her welling eyes and breaking heart.

It is under him that they learn to shift. It is not perfect. Momus is reviled by god and mortals alike for his sharp-tongue. He complains about poorly chosen words, critiques every appearance, laughs at sloppy form. It is helpful to some - those who wish to change. Who are unbothered by his mocking tone. But people are more emotional than he cares for. There are several lives lost to his cruel words. Like the two before him, he has no capacity for empathy. He is unable to learn sympathy and compassion is out of reach.

Who cares, is his most common phrase, spoken every time his sister asks him to become softer, gentler.

Oizys is still pain, she is still distress. Her heart still breaks easy and she cries more often than most. But she becomes kinder to herself for her limited emotional range. It is not her fault that this is how she must be. It is not her fault that this is what she has been chosen to represent in the world. Her tears do not make her weak.

Pain is necessary, she says as she wraps the broken bone of a sobbing child. It teaches us not to jump from trees, and where to draw the line with others.

She finds broken men with battles still screaming in their minds. Their bodies are automated. Every movement is meant to survive, to carry on, but their minds hold memories that keep them from being alive. She finds broken women, broken mothers, broken children. She finds those who hold back the tears and smile as though nothing is wrong. Those who need to let go and breathe. Those who need to cry. Who need to admit to the pain they are in, the anguish they have witnessed, the distress coming from the things they have experienced.

When the emotions release, when the pain flows, she crafts suggestions from the wisp of shadows. Run. Confront. Kill. Talk. Change.

Live.

I believe we are trapped in our natures, Charon had said in the bright of day as he dug a deep hole and she held a shattered girl's hand.

Her body was bloodied, slowly creeping towards utter cold. Her eyes had been glassy, unfocused. The world slowly slid from her view. Oizys held her hand to take the pain because certain things should never have been experienced. Not in anyone, but especially not in children this young.

But that doesn't mean we cannot change what our nature means, her wise older brother had said. I take the dead. I don't know why. I just always have. But I chose to do different than just steal them away from their homes. There are dead out there that will never be claimed. I will claim them. I do not need to claim that which dies at home or in a lover's arms. I will claim the left behind, the slaughtered hunter, the forgotten traveler, and I will give them a grave to rest.

Momus had scowled back rude words but Oizys held tighter the young girl's hand and listened hard.

You both can be better. You do not have to be perfect. You do not have to be nice. Moros certainly is not. Ker as well. But you can be and do more than you think of yourselves right now. He laid his shovel to rest on the ground and reached for the slackened girl. There was no life left in her. It had bled all over Oizys lap. There is more to the world than your base instincts, little ones. Yelling that others are at fault and crying from the distress of being screamed at isn't all you have to do. Look inwards. Think. He laid the girl to rest in the grave he dug. I believe in you.

Charon speaks these words to all his siblings. When Nemesis arrives in a flurry of wild black hair, she tracks across the plains of Tartarus, even in her pudgy youth, and declares pain of those she discovers in chains. She leaves the wasteland far later than any of her other siblings, both older and younger. She is endlessly embittered by the faults of mortals. Reluctance to leave their home cloaks her.

Find your order, Charon says. He has lived long, seen and met many. Dike could help. She loves justice, as much as you crave punishment.

Dike is a beauty on earth. Like her father, the crowned king of sky, she embodies order and justice. Humanity is as far as her range extends. But Nemesis can work with that. Social norms become her focus. Convention and custom are her loves. Remaining steady in tradition is gripped tight in her hand. She offers suggestions with a ruthlessness that Dike sighs through each time. Some are accepted easily. Many mortals need to be struck down by their own hubris. But others are argued about between the two.

Humanity and what it entails holds closer to Dike's heart than Nemesis'. She is capable of seeing what her father, her mother, and what Nemesis cannot. A mortal who kills to be free from pain defies convention, but does not deserve the ruthless retribution Nemesis would befit upon a mortal who kills for enjoyment.

Nemesis is always befuddled by her love's explanations. The logic is sound, she understands the point. But it never quite clicks the way it should. But she remembers Charon holding her hands and telling her that she is bound to what the world had decreed upon her, as are the others.

Hemera and Aether do not understand why their siblings prefer the dark. Moros cannot perceive how it is cruel to tell people of the vicious way they will one day die, nor does he understand why it is not appropriate to bury them in so much doom they drown themselves to escape. Ker does not comprehend that others do not feel overwhelming rage. How calm for mortals in the rest of death and sleep is unwanted by their siblings befuddles Thanatos and Hypnos.  Why people repress their pain is something Oizys will never comprehend. And Momus will never understand why Olympus banished him from their golden floors for his various criticisms.

None of them ever understood why Charon chose to bury strangers either. They followed when he ventured out and helped him carry back bodies he found. Animals too rotten to eat, people no one came for. They watched as he dug holes. As he wrapped them in clean cloth and buried them. They did not understand why. But they understood that he had to, and so he did.

You punish because you must. People fear punishment because they fear our sister. If she can continue on despite the pain that being feared brings her, I know that you can. They will never understand why you choose the retribution you choose. And you will never understand why they beg for something smaller. But you do not have to. You just assess their point of view. He laughed quietly and squeezed her hands. Or ask Dike to explain it to you.

In the years that follow Nemesis's final departure from the family home, Apate and Dolos spring out from the shadows with mischievous grins. They spread lies and tall tales in their youth. They find villages and scam, decrying potions and balms in replace of medicine. Death abounds. So Charon settles them into the dirt and tells them they can do more than harm.

There is no demand to stop being cruel. After all, Nemesis still jumps to ruthless violence in her ideas for retribution. Momus does not know how to be kind with his words. By nature, Oizys is cruel to mortals. Moros still approaches strangers with a bitter grin and watches them cry in grief and terror from their ensuing fates. But cruel is not all they must be.

The twins sidle alongside Ares, who knows Charon well. Apate guides spies into enemy lines. Acting becomes a passion of hers. After all, what are elaborate performances if not deceit of the audience? Dolos sits on friendly territory and pushes whispered suggestions from the shadows. Make it seem like you are retreating, he sighs into a general's ears. Draw them out into the open with a subtle trap. Surround them. Destroy them.

It is more enjoyable to them than scamming the masses, than telling them silly lies with elaborate words that make them believe in things that don't exist. There is a sense of accomplishment when their side wins the battle, wins the war. There is a sense of pride when Ares pats their heads with his heavy warm hand. They do not follow him everywhere. They want more than war. So they dabble in politics, in petty family squabbles. They still sell scams and spread rumors. But often they draw back to Ares' side with mischievous grins and help his chosen heroes win wars.

Geras is born with wrinkles and frail bones. His skin sags off the muscles that never truly grow. Youth annoys him. Hebe is his sworn enemy long before they ever meet. But Charon holds him as he breathes hard and reminds him of the genius in age.

I was stupid when I was young. I'm older now. Wiser. More mature. He holds his little brother's wizened frame gently. Listen to the stories of the people. Sit with your brother when he visits his dying friends. There is no permanence or perfection in being young. You are a reminder of change, of inevitability, of maturity. I would not be able to tell you this without having lived and grown through so much before me.

Immortals don't age, Geras huffs bitterly. His voice is cracked and gruff, like an older blacksmith who has breathed in too much acrid smoke.

Everyone ages. We simply are not bound by it. Shapeless. Formless. If we want to look young, we can do so. If we want to look strong, we can do so. It is a blessing. He strokes Geras's thin hair. And much like curses, blessings can be taken away.

Geras sighs and sinks into his brother's stable hold. I don't know how to make myself look different.

Then don't, Charon says. You know how, little brother. We all do. But you do not want to look young. It is not who you are.

Then who am I? What am I? Geras cries. I want to be a child, not an ugly old man. I do nothing for the mortals like the others. I don't bring the day, I don't let them know that the end is near and they should prepare. I do not allow them to feel their hurt. I do not enact punishment and I do not win wars. I am just old and tired.

As I said, you are change. People become different over time. They learn and change, they age and grow. And you are inevitable, even to the gods. You are the reason Moros has friends. You are the reason Oizys creates mourning. You are stories told to grandchildren, you are the head of the household, you are the matriarch, you are history. You are a reminder of the end, and you are a goal for the sickly, for the soldiers in battle, for couples so deeply in love. Charon presses his lips dryly to his brother's wrinkled temple. And you are my brother. You have purpose in that alone.

Eris is hardened to the world when she leaves Tartarus. As always, Charon takes leave of the Underworld and guides her hand-in-hand through darkness and grass to the family home. She is a bitter thing. She finds fault in all things. Constant conflict is demanded of her. When he does not fall to her huffing ways, she grows louder and rougher. But Charon has been steady and stable since birth. Her need to sow problems over nothing does not rile him.

Calm down, he says when she slaps food off the table for being too cold, or shouts that he mended her clothes incorrectly. She cannot calm. It is beyond her. Still he holds her shaking hands and guides her down to a seat on the floor. Relax your breathing. Search for what settles you and utilize that.

Like many of the others, Charon brings her to Ares’ side. War does not settle her, not fully. Still, she finds solace in Ares and in Enyo, her preferred companion. Enyo enjoys the bitter sensation of discord, the craft of competition that awakens in Eris’ presence. Eris is no stranger to being cared for despite how she is, but it is odd to see it reflected in the face of someone who is not her family.

They bicker and argue over anything. Eris is always the instigator, but Enyo happily throws the first blow. Hands beat against faces. Blood bleeds into spit on the ground. Bruises bloom against skin. When the fight is done, they grin and breathe and move along. They are often joined by Ker, bringing horror to the soldiers who spot her flying above right before the final blow.

She spreads trouble outside of battle. Apate and Dolos pull her into their lies and trickery. Arguments follow her subtle instigating words. The twins pull strings behind yelling backs. Momus brings blame and she pushes hostility. The ensuing breakdowns are always so fun to watch. Harmony and peace, a sense of calm, does not befit her. But in carefully placed antagonism she finds a settlement, what Charon spoke of with gentle words, and it is enough.

The last to find life on the outside is young Philotes. Her siblings think she is strange. Even from birth, she is unlike any of them. In Tartarus, she befriends monsters, even the cruelest of punished souls. She hugs with abandon, and smiles wider than any of them thought was possible for their faces. She is not sharp-toothed, and she is not mean. She is not relaxed with sturdy sullenness. She is bright and joyful.

Charon does not bury forgotten bodies around her, nor does he hunt creatures as they sleep. Death upsets her. Violence is rejected. Ker and Thanatos find no fault in her eschew of their nature. She does not fault them for being as they are. It is harder with Eris, but only on her side. Trouble and conflict slides off Philotes’ shoulders like rain. It does not make her angry, or have her spit bitter words. Eris finds that vastly annoying. But despite their stark differences, Philotes loves her family without question. 

Darkness does not suit her, though she walks through shadows as is her birthright, and does not shy away from the depths below as her companions in the clouds of Olympus do. Making friends is easy for her. She finds her way to the mountaintop from smile to smile, and hug to hug. The Graces adore her joyful nature. Pasithea finds amusement in their traded places - her born of Olympus to descend to the depths, and Philotes born of Tartarus to ascend to the golden skies. She does not join their numbers, but attends to their needs. It is a contented life filled with love, with friends, with good sex.

Charon waits for the call of his mother to let him know that another has joined their ranks but it does not come. He does miss, sometimes, the family home when it was filled with the life of another. He will settle there in his free time. The beds are clean, the pantry clear, cobwebs nonexistent. The passage of time does not encroach upon the home he built for his siblings. It does not rot the stone, nor the cloth. The house remains steady, stable, as he is.

Sometimes he walks down to the river. He will sit in the slow and shallow end under the night sky, feeling shadows wisp at his arms. There is no preference between his old and new homes. The Underworld suits him. Macaria who took him down to the depths and gave him his boat is there, his best friend. Styx rushes by as he floats. They speak casually amongst each other. The world is forever dark in the Underworld. It is cool. It is calm.

While only a few of his siblings live with him among the poplar trees and obsidian stone, the others do visit with annoyed huffs from Hades but nothing else in complaint. They join their mother and father in the heated wasteland of Tartarus. They visit the family home. They did not live there all at once, and they never will. He raised them to be independent, decisive. To be better and do more than they thought they could. Their home was a place to grow, and they have. It is no longer necessary for them. For him.

But it is always nice to walk through familiar doors and find his siblings talking amongst themselves. Lounging on cushions they used to sit on when they were much smaller, much younger. Eating at the table, sneaking bites of each other’s food. Playing the games still left behind on shelves and tables.

He never worried about what it meant to be the oldest made of flesh and bone. When he had followed Macaria down below, he did not mean to leave the three behind. They had ventured out, as Moros did. When days pattered by with no return, he thought they had found their own place in the world. Seeing them standing strong and hard-headed in front of Hades and demanding his return was more than amusing. Warmth cut through his heart.

Ferrying souls is his purpose. Watching the entrance when the Underworld is open is his purpose. It is what he has done from the beginning, carrying corpses home and laying them to rest, finding internal settlement in river water rushing beneath him. He is the ferryman and the gatekeeper. Carrying souls across the rushing river. Keeping eye on the doorway and forcing out those who try to push in without reason.

But as he always said, there is more to them than the base instinct of their nature. Like holding hands with little siblings as he walks them to their home, and guarding them from mortals and monsters and gods who do not understand what beauty exists in the dark.

[boycritter]

oscar what is jreg

the short answer is that he's a youtuber and artist but the short answer also feels wrong to me. so.

he's an artist who primarily does youtube videos, spoken word poetry, and music

his first video that really took off was a political compass rap, which was basically personified versions of these different political beliefs rapping at each other. this led into the web series centricide, which took these personified versions of different political beliefs, added more of them, and made them fight in a war.

his videos generally cover philosphy, politics, and culture. his channel is sort of split up into 'eras' with era 1 being the political compass rap + centricide and other political things, era 2 focusing on psychology, mental illness, and also running for the mayor of ottawa. that was also a thing he did. era 3 was his normal era where he focused on becoming normal. his main things during this era were a focus on the importance of real life community and hating introverts (because they used their identity as introverts to justify not creating real community). era 4 is the current era and it's the technocapital singularity era. which i think is just him trying to make money really.

other fun jreg facts include:

he's an anti-centrist. his political beliefs are just being anti-status quo. okay i think i should say that jreg is kind of a character. a lot of the things he says are ironic but it's unclear what exactly is ironic and how many layers of irony there are.

he fucking loves neopronouns and microlabels (due to them being anti-status quo)

polyamorous (this one im 99% sure is real) and also identifies as heterosexual homoromantic (this one may be more ironic but not out of malice for queer microlabels)

runs an artist community in toronto that's actually pretty cool

arthritic

drinks unpasteurized milk

his ottawa mayoral campaign had the policy of building an 'ottawall' around ottawa to keep them isolated for the rest of the world. this was not a closed border policy. he wanted extremely open borders. and also a giant wall. he also wanted to make 'franglais' the official language of ottawa. franglais is french spoken like it's english. or english spoken like it's french

theres so much more. this man is sidequests georg.

[lydiamaya]

Football inspired major arcana tarot cards ^—^

I had a lot of fun making these and tried my best to fit them with what the cards actually represented.

Explanation on who's what card if you are interested in knowing —

0 – The Fool –> This card represents on the upright- innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit. On reserved it represents‐ holding back, recklessness and risk-taking. All of which I think perfectly describes Jack.

I – The Magician –> On the upright represents- manifestation, resourcefulness, power, inspired action. On reversed- untapped talents. All of these remind me of Hakim and also his nickname is perfect fit for this 😉.

II - The High Priestess –> Basically a well knowledged motherly character who often works in silence. Who other that Luka.

III – The Empress –> A blonde beauty who is holding everything together.

IV – The Emperor –> Authority, establishment, structure, a father figure, dominance. He is Pedri and gavi's dad, enough sqid.

V – The Hierophant –> Spiritual wisdom, religious, freedom, someone who comforts. See Olivier comforting Kylian, and you'll see.

VI – The Lovers –> Love, harmony, relationship, Soulmate.

VII – The Chariot –> Control, willpower, action, success, determination, self-discipline. The soul of the Manchester City team.

VIII – Strength –> Strength, courage, influence, compassion, raw emotion, self-doubt. Strength of the Manchester United team.

IX – The Hermit –> Soul-searching, inner guidance, being alone, isolation. The guiding light of Arsenal.

X – Wheel of Fortune –> Good luck, Karma, destiny, a turning point, breaking cycles.

XI – Justice –> I don't know, Eriksen just fit the vibe.

XII – The Hanged Man –> Letting go, new perspective. Joao to Chelsea saga.

XIII – Death –> Ending, change, transformation, transition, personal transformation. Jude being Dortmund's captain and the transformation of power from older generation to the newer one.

XIV – Temperance –> Balance, patience, purpose, self-healing. These two are perfect balance of old and new in Argentina.

XV – The Devil –> Shadow self, restriction, attachments. He is holding himself a bit in my opinion.

XVI – The Tower –> Sudden change, chaos, revelations, awakening, personal transformation. The departure of Messi and the entire future of Barça being pushed into their hands in a way.

XVII - The Star –> Hope, faith, renewal, purpose, self-trust. He is the hope and future of Dortmund and Germany.

XVIII – The Moon –> I don't Mason just felt right.

XIX – The Sun –> Positivity, fun,warmth, success, inner child, overly optimistic, vitality. This card IS Haaland.

XX – Judgment –> The bringer of Judgment Day against anyone they played.

XIX – The World –> Completion, accomplishment, personal closure, delays. This card is Messi personified.

[aliciavance4228]

Here's a list with obscure deities from Greco-Roman Mythology to obssess about

Aceso: The goddess of the healing process and Asclepcius' daughter;

Achlys: The goddess of the eternal night, aka the Mist of Death;

Agon: The greek god of competition;

Alala: The goddess of the war cry, daughter of Polemos and one of Ares' attendants;

Alke: The goddess of battle-strenght and Eris' daughter;

Amechania: Apparently the ancient greeks did have a goddess of helplessness too.

Apate: A daughter of Nyx and the goddess of deceit;

Arete: She's more a concept than an actual deity. From what I found, her name means virtue, in the sense of being the best version of yourself or reaching tour highest potential. She was supposed to personify that;

Aristaeus: A minor god primarily known for rustic arts like beekeeping and cheesemaking. And Eurydice's assaulter;

Arke: Iris' sister who was thrown intk Tartarus after betraying the gods and becoming a messager for the titans;

Atë: Eris' daughter and the goddess of mischief, delusion, folly, and reckless impulsiveness that leads to ruin;

Bia: The goddess and personification of force;

Caerus: Very obscure guy and the god of opportunity;

Ceto: An early sea goddess and the mother of the Gorgons, the Graia, Echidna and the Hesperian Dragon;

Cybele: A Phrygian Mother Goddess, her cult being very popular in Anatolia once;

Dike: Goddess of mortal justice and fair judgment;

Dolos: God of trickery and guile, and a former apprentice to Prometheus;

Dysnomia: Daughter of Eris and goddess of lawlessness;

Eleos: A daughter of Nyx and the personification of pity, mercy, clemency, and compassion;

Endovelicus: Worshipped only by the romans, and apparently a deity who came from the Lisutanian Mythology. He was the god of healing and light.

Epione: The goddess of the soothing of pain and Asclepcius' wife;

Eucleia, Eupheme, Euthenia and Philophrosyne: Hephaestus and Aglaea's daughters;

Geras: Son of Nyx and the god of old age;

Homados: God of the noise of battle and all the blood-curdling screaming that implies;

Homonia: Goddess of concord, unanimity, and oneness of mind;

Hygieia: A daughter of Asclepcius and the personification of health, cleanliness, and sanitation;

Iaso: Daughter of Asclepius and the goddess of recuperation from illness;

Janus: Present only in the Roman Mythology, Janus was the god of doorways, gates, transitions, and beginnings and endings;

Kratos: Apparently he actually existed in Greek Mythology, but he was the god of strenght and power;

Limos: Daughter of Eris and the goddess of starvation;

Lyssa: Daughter of Nyx and the goddess of mad rage, frenzy and rabies in animals;

Mithras: Besides the fact that he was a roman god worshipped by a popular mystery cult there are few things known about him;

Momus: Son of Nyx and the god of satire, mockery, censure, writers, and poets;

Moros: Son of Nyx and the god of impending doom;

Oizys: Daughter of Nyx and the goddess of misery;

Pamacea: Daughter of Asclepcius and the goddess of universal remedy;

Peitho: Goddess of persuasion and seduction;

Penia: Goddess of poverty and need;

Phorcys: God of the mysterious dangers of the deep and Ceto's husband;

Plutus: God of wealth;

Polemos: Personification of war;

Ponos: God of hard labor and toil;

Porus: God of plenty and a son of Metis, making him the half-brother of Athena;

Praxidike: The goddess of judicial punishment and the exactor of vengeance;

Priapus: A minor fertility god, known for trying to rape Hestia once and his large equipment;

Ptocheia: Greek goddess of beggary;

Quirnius: An early roman god of Rome itself as a city state.

Seilenos: The god of drunkeness and crushing grapes under foot to make wine and the godfather of Dionysus;

Soteria and Soter: The goddess and god of safety and deliverance from harm;

Zelus: The personification of dedication, emulation, eager rivalry, envy, jealousy, and zeal. Had wings like his siblings (Nike, Kratos and Bia) and was an enforcer for Zeus that stood about his throne;