#i dunno all this is kind of pointless

[kifu]

I feel like I need a long-term list of projects I wanted completed. My manic drive from January/February has died down, but my will to create is NOT gone. That's ... a feat.

Limbo - this project requires research by way of rewatching some if not all of 2k3 (and my definition of this is seasons 1 through 4 only, as I do not include the Tribunal, FF, or BttS as part of my cannon). As I write this, I'm halfway through season 2 and I'm outlining the points that will help me structure Limbo physically. The more I watch, the more I'm pissed about my creative choices for Limbo draft 1. That might turn out in my favor.

◦ outline 2k3 and figure out WHEN Limbo takes place to ground it in cannon

◦ outline major plot points in Limbo

◦ detail major characters' growth throughout entire story

◦ fucking write the damn story

Horse Comic - okay, another one that has tickled me since my childhood. I wanna get it done. I swore to myself that I wouldn't start this project until I had the skill to draw horses unaided by references. Well, mostly. The point is drawing a comic - and I think this comic will be five issues/chapters long from what I figured out last night - depicting a rundown of a modified story that I remember from my breyer horse herd as a little kid. Well, now adult storytelling, years of stacked ideas that go well with the og story, color genetics, and actually having the drive to put a comic together (by myself) come into play. This ain't gonna be a light project.

◦ break the story down into five chapters and detail everything that needs to happen within each chapter

◦ break each chapter down into pages so that I don't have to worry about page pacing when I start putting it all together

◦ "pencil" the ENTIRE first chapter before I even think about "inking" or laying down color/background

◦ work on one chapter at a time, but don't expect more than one chapter per year if I can even keep up my drive for this

◦ come up with an intriguing title because I'm stumped

HARPG - so I even started a blog for this and have a few chapters uploaded already, but when I got caught up in that commission I fell a couple weeks behind already. I am NOT feeling this so much, but I still would like to crank out a couple years of story this year. I NEED TO DRAW RAMSEY RIGHT FUCKING NOW. And then continue to come up with a chapter and chapter art every other week. Like, c'mon, me.

New Nation - another story that haunts me every time I think about my stories. Maybe I'll love Kurt again through Limbo. Probably not. I think I'm falling out of love with the character that got me through ... everything ... the past decade. Is it the Catholicism? I've been at war with Catholicism since my job at the pig farm. It's gotta be more than that. But anyway, I really ... really ... I don't know if I can ever come back to this story anymore, tbh. But it would be cool if I could. I might just say that I need to animate the unpublished scene of the future, because why not add another large ass project to the list. But that fight scene? Is AMAZING.

The Tribes - let's be serious. This needs to be written. Though it would be cool if I could actually write down my plan of action so that I have something physical to fall back on when my brain farts again. As it do. I remember that my goal for this story is to end at around 150-175k words. I believe I have the first 25k words written, though a lot needs to be done to those words to make things better. Even so, this is the best iteration of the Tribes yet. And my crack fic? Is actually really, really helping. I did not expect that.

◦ first 25k words are Kifu finding Taya and Jiogi and getting brought to the Tribe

◦ next 25k words are Kifu fitting into the Tribe, and getting to know the other Tribeslings. Need to figure out Mai's predecessor's name

◦ next 75k words are Kifu training under Kumji, first learning what every Tribesperson knows: hunting, gathering, basic body training; and later he introduces her to his group, where she secretly learns how to fight and kill - more details about this to be figured out later

◦ last 25k words are Kifu's struggle with the group's goals and eventual loss of control

I dunno. The story is my pet and I actually do have the entire series vaguely outlined somewhere with names all of the fucking place in the margins. I *do* want to come up with back stories for each and every person of the Air Tribe so it's not just the Kifu show, but a cohesive land where people are more than welcome to hate the main character because she be a stupid ho, but come around for everyone else. idk Things get better after the first book anyway.

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Thinking about Berserk again. I havent read any of the new chapters because Miura's death kind of got to me really bad so thinking about or talking about berserk at all just made me really depressed and I think I probably havent even looked at it since he passed (after I used to reread huge chunks of it like every week) but now its been like two years and Im thinking I should just accept it and give the new stuff a shot.

One thing I am always thinking about though is how Miura's death effected discussion around Berserk and how much it will continue to effect discussion. Like, I always felt Berserk never got enough criticism. You can search Berserk on here and find all my old posts complaining about how everybody was jumping the gun on calling it One Of The Greatest Manga Ever when it wasnt even done and at the time most people were convinced it hadnt been good since like what, conviction arc? And that was back before Kentaro Miura died and his death has only made the discussion even more like "Berserk is a beautiful wonderful masterpiece and anyone with problems doesnt GET IT".

So like I stopped reading under the idea that no matter what happened it wasnt gonna be what REALLY shouldve happened, now I think thats kind of unfair and maybe I should give it a shot, but I think that idea is gonna be influencing how people talk about a manga that was already being given alot of undue praise and adoration from people who seemed to mostly never have actually read it and had nothing more interesting to say about it beyond it being the manga that popularized the idea of a guy with a big big sword. I dunno.

[deal-right]

having x amount of followers on social mecia is amazing because it amounts to almost nothing asfjlkasfjlk

[itsabouttimex2]

Well I just woke up terrible after being drunk last night.so since I expect reader to probably be a teen and what

do we teens do,we party and drink.what about reader before being kiddnapped show up to a hangout with a headache,they causally say it’s because they were drunk.Wukong and Macaque reactions

Drunk Teen Reactions:

Ol’ Sun Wukong is not stupid, kiddo. This simian picks up on your “shitfaced” status the moment he eyes you wobbling through the front door, lurched forward and clutching at your forehead.

He’s not stupid. But stupidly well can this old pilgrim can act the part.

“Hey, kiddo! Bump your head, huh?” He casually asks, eyeing the redness of your eyes, whiffing the vomit on your breath.

Already, something in him is stirring, a protective rumbling emanating from deep inside his chest.

(How dare your parents let you do this to yourself? How could they let you drink, let you leave the house in this condition?)

Sun Wukong spits out a chuckle and comes over to swing an arm over your shoulders, a motion that he forces to be casual when something inside starts to scream at him to take your neck between his hands and start throttling a home address out of your mouth.

Instead, he leads the way back to his cozy little couch and nudges you down, grabbing a thin blanket and wrapping it around you.

“Why don’t you sit here and let me get you a drink? Something tells me you need lots of water, bud!”

“Hmmm,” you mumble, stirring the sounds on your tongue like a cocktail. “Kay. M’really tired, Monkey King. Headache, y’know,” you lie, smiling weakly up at the blur of ginger fur.

“I know it, bud!” The king lies back, your falsehoods exchanging easily. ‘You’re a kid’, he reminds himself. ‘No need to get angry.’

“So, buddy, why’d ya wanna hang out today, if you weren’t feeling so hot?

“Just wanted to,” is your next lie, lazy and relaxed. The discontent it inspires in him motivates the crushing of a little white pill in his hand, then a subtle palm tip that spills grainy powder into your coming-up cup of water.

He circles the counter twice, giving you a moment to laugh at his “pointless” pacing.

Giving the pill particles a moment to dissolve.

Then he’s right beside you, one hand squeezing your shoulder as he nudged the glass rim to your lips.

“Here,” Wukong softly offers, tilting the cup.

Too drunken to sniff out the still-melting grains of white at the bottom, you eagerly down as much water as possible.

And a sudden surge of drowsiness hits you, knocking you clean off of feet that you aren’t even standing on.

Then a sharp swell of delayed nausea blooms in your stomach and ripples to the back of your throat, a few moments after Wukong scoops you up.

Shifting and shuffling about until he’s got you comfortably nestled to his chest, Wukong finally smiles, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek:

“C’mon, bud- I’m gonna take you home.”

“Hey, Uncle Mac? S’it getting, uh, I dunno… hot in here…? My head’s dripping sweat. N’ my hand are real clammy. And my ears hurt.”

Yeah, your ass is cooked.

Maybe if you were a little less talkative, a little more alert, a little less unsteady- you might have been able to fool the sable simian.

But Macaque doesn’t need any kind of mystical power to see through your bullshit.

“Uh-huh. Yeah, the room is too hot, too bright, too loud. And you’re the only one complaining about it,” he snaps, poking your stomach with a clawed finger.

“You think you’re fooling me? I’m not one of your idiot friends, Y/N! You aren’t gonna trick me with a half-baked lie, and I’m not-“

“M’gonna puke,” you whimper aloud, cutting the monkey off as he leaps from the couch and goes racing for a trash bin.

Macaque can act villainous all he’d like- and to be fair, he is a pretty awful and unrepentant person (why do the Monkie Kids let him stick around, you sometimes wonder) - but you turn him soft faster than sunlight melts shadows.

The Mystic Monkey rounds the corner with a little round bin, the metal shielded by a plastic bag that lines the rim.

Into your hands is the cylinder shoved, Macaque roughly slapping at your back in an awkward attempt to comfort you.

With an awfully unpleasant sound from the deepest confines of your throat, the contents of your stomach promptly upended into the sack.

No food. Just a puddle of sticky dark liquid.

“You have been drinking,” he hisses, now that you really have no ground to deny him. Really, you didn’t to begin with, but there was always plausible deniability to invoke.

“J-just a few. Tried something-“

Another splatter of rough and thick bile, stained brown with what he’s starting to think is rum.

He sighs and folds up his arms unhappily, tapping a glossy black boot against the floor. “Y/N. That stuff was way too strong for you, no matter what it was.”

“Mh-hm, I know. M’not gonna- eugh. M’not gonna do it again, promise.”

“No, you won’t,” he confirms, grabbing the scruff of your shirt and yanking it upwards. He’s strong enough to boost you free of the floor, stomping to a spare room. His tail snags the trash bin without trouble, hauling the soiled cylinder along with your prone and dangling form.

“In fact,” he tacks on, grimacing at the strong scent your breath carries, “you aren’t going to do anything. I’m grounding you for a week- and I’m taking your phone. tough luck, kiddo.”

He tosses you onto a bed that rises only a few inches off the ground, slinging a few blankets around your shaking form.

“Phone. Now.”

Fishing the little device from your pocket, you quickly it into the Macaque’s hand- he’s never been this stern with you before. Honestly? It kind of scares you.

A beep sounds, catching your attention- already, the ancient demon is initiating a call.

“Listen close- no, you don’t know me, no, Y/N isn’t hurt. They’re tired and sick -shut up and listen- they’re tired and sick and staying at my place tonight. I don’t care. They’re staying until this sickness passes. Don’t call back.”

(Realms above and below, it hurts to play the “no violence” card here, even though he was just saving it for later. What Macaque really wants to do is quietly follow you home and destroy every cubic ounce of alcohol inside. And then maybe grind your irresponsible parents against the floor after he’s coated it in glass shards.)

He hits the “end call” button with a little too much force, dangerously straining the phone’s screen. Thankfully, it leaves no cracks or scratches.

Macaque turns back to you with a frown, shaking his head- only to soften slight when the sight of your nauseated and quivering form fills his eyes.

“Don’t… don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes, Y/N. You can’t… ugh, fine. I’ll get you something to drink.”

He stomps off to the kitchen immediately, fighting back the urge to comfort you. Just water. And some crackers. And then he’ll let you stew in that little bed for a few hours with your filthy trash bin.

Maybe the wretched smell and lack of painkillers will teach you a lesson. Or it’ll leave you vulnerable and quaky, desperate for attention and affection.

Thinking on the possibilities, Macaque pulls the guest-room key from his pocket, twirling it around in one hand.

It was going to be nice, having you all to himself.

It was going to be even nice getting your parents out of the picture.

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #5965:

Call-outs have serious priority problems.

Like... That woman literally stalked and harassed somebody for years and y'all are going after the way she draws??? Tf kind of logic is that? What's next? You're going to shame a serial killer for their fashion sense and not the fact that they... I dunno... Killed people?!

Same goes for popular franchises with creators that turned out to be bad people. I feel like some bring in the quality of the creators work even if it has absolutely nothing to do with what the creator has done or said.

And the former fans who now act like they're above their work? Ugh, please. It's one thing to criticize someone you used to appreciate, but it's another thing to be a fucking liar acting like you were never among those "lowley fans" when you absolutely were, you goddamn hypocrite.

And to all the people who didn't like the things in the first place and are waltzing around acting morally superior for not ever enjoying the thing... Please do the world a favor and shut the hell up. You are not unique, I can assure you that you were not the only one who didn't like whatever you're whining about. Take that "not like other girls/boys" attitude and shove it up your ass, because it's helping absolutely no one. Plus, not only does your gloating make you look like a smug douchebag, it makes you look fake and performative as hell. Bc it makes you seem like you don't truly care about the terrible things the creator has said or done at all, or the societal issues that can sprout from that. All you care about is looking "cool" in front of others and dunking on something you dislike even if it's not entirely relevant to the conversation.

TL:DR... Some creators turn out to be assholes and we should absolutely call that out when it happens. BUUUTTT people really need to learn to focus on what's really important and not on petty, pointless shit like that person's drawing/writing quality or bullying fans that did/still enjoy their work. Because I'd much rather people jail a serial killer for taking innocent lives and not because of what clothes they wear.

[jttwlmkaddiction]

Macaque is so fascinating as a character. He’s smart, dramatic, generally not self-interest oriented (except for his literal life) but is definitely not selfless. Yet he is simultaneously selflessly kind or at least has his heart in the right place, and also can be mean, a bully, and tough lovingly oriented. His emotions are out there on his sleeve but those emotions are ‘ARRRGGGGG’ and “Hrmph’. His perspective is very skewed because he is an extremely powerful long-lived celestial monkey demon but he hangs out with regular monkeys. He is terrified of LBD but no one else. Except he is terrified of Wukong when he thinks he’s mad at him for real. But not at all scared of him if they are just fighting (even when cursed). He is a true warrior and loyal to his king to a fault but won’t hesitate to call him out or disagree with him.

Some s5 spoilers here…….

He is a Wukong absolutist simp, nothing can break Macaque’s loyalty to him, yet it is his and his decision and ability alone to free him to go sacrifice himself. He argues with MK, without saying as much, that Wukong was an option for sacrifice too because he knew MK would never accept that if he said it outright. He practically pines for Wukong but acts like he hates him 99% of the time. He speaks very upfront about everything but won’t just talk to Wukong (probably because he knows it pointless I dunno).

He clearly f*ed up at some point and it got him dead, but never acknowledges he had any fault, yet at the literal end of the world he very timidly accepts Wukong’s forgiveness (if that’s even what it was) so he KNOWS what he did was wrong.

What even is this guy? I love complex characters. They are so fun to guess at and pick apart.

[plussizefantasia]

crunch

Flufftober Day 14: Leaves

Jasper Hale x reader

Word Count: 0.5k

AN: this one is short and sweet. Please reblog if you enjoyed reading it.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

There was something so human about the fall season. The falling of leaves and the sudden coldness that permeates the air. It all reminded Jasper a bit too much about being mortal. Of course, he hadn’t been mortal in at least a century, but you were. You were mortal right now, he could lose you at any moment. You could wither and fall, just like the leaves on the ground.

That is why Jasper was in a bad mood. But he was trying his best to latch onto your feeling of joy. You were positively radiant with joy while taking a stroll with Jasper on the way home from school. The day was overcast, as it commonly was in Forks but the lack of sunshine never seemed to bother you. 

Jasper admired your ability to find happiness in the small things. For how long he’s lived, the monotony of every day seemed to make the fleeting moments blur together. He had gone decade with the days and nights melding into one. It wasn’t until he had met you that he seemed to wake up from his stupor. It was still difficult for him to understand how stepping on leaves brought you so much joy, but he would watch you and bask in the warmth that your joy emanated.

“Why do you enjoy this so much Darlin’?” He had asked.

“Dunno Japser, I like the noise, I guess.”

“Is that why you step on all of them?” He didn’t see the appeal, and if he was completely honest the noise kind of grated on him.

“I guess. Why? Does it bother you, ‘cause I can stop.” You offered beginning to look up and walk normally.

“No, you don’t need to stop Love, I’m just curious I guess.”

“Curious about what?” 

“Why do you get so happy while doing such pointless things? I like that you have things that make you happy, but I don’t see how crunching dead leaves get you so overjoyed.

“Oh Jasper,” You smiled moving to wrap your arm through his “I’m not overjoyed because of the leaves, I’m happy because I’m spending time with you.”

If his heart was still beating he's sure that it would send blood to his cheeks at your remark.

“You make happy Jasper, more happy than I’ve been in a long time. I could be filing taxes and as long as I was with you I’d enjoy it.” Your words settle into his mind like syrup. Slowly covering his thoughts with you and his love for you.

Maybe that is why he liked being around you. Even in the moments that he struggles with his hunger, just being near you puts him at ease. He feels like he can breathe with you, even though he doesn’t need to. At first, his fear of putting you in danger far outweighed any desire to be near you. But when he realized that being near you was the only way to keep you safe, he became almost impossible to get away from, though you never wanted to get away from him anyway.

“You make me happy too Darlin’.” He pulled your arm out of his and moved it letting it hang in between the two of you. He laced your fingers together and continued your walk. Smiling when you started stepping on leaves again.

[allwormdiet]

Buzz 7.11

I was so caught up in the euphoria of not having to read about the Empire that for a minute I lived in this world where Coil didn't exist

And so we arrive at The Coil Bunker. Heard this sucker come up once or twice in my time on the periphery.

Somehow I got the impression that it was more established than this. Sounds like a recent development rather than a long-standing stronghold, with the construction going on inside as well as out.

They are already so done with Coil's shit, there's nothing to be impressed by with this guy

It really is a rapid acceleration of their workload, yeah. Even setting aside that the Wards did basically nothing during the gallery job, they've gone against every hitter in the city except most of New Wave and the ones under Coil's employ, and frankly I'm willing to guess that changes down the line.

Coil's value to them as a boss has nothing to do with himself and everything to do with his resources. If he keeps putting them in more trouble than he's worth, then a coup would almost certainly be in order.

"Do you need reassurances that I'm not going to fuck up like some kind of moron and condemn you all to a pointless death in order to work for me?"

"Uh, yeah? It'd be nice?"

I'd talked about this elsewhere, but Coil's fuckup here breaks in two possible ways:

Either he genuinely could not think beyond pulling back the curtain on the Empire's identities and forgot his subordinate villain team who both have a member famous for knowing things she shouldn't and also publicly beefed with the Empire maybe a week ago, or

he actually did realize that the Undersiders would be caught in the blast radius of this plot, figured he'd roll the dice on their survival, and is now lying in a way that makes him sound shortsighted and careless

Like yeah no shit they don't have much faith in him, either he's a moron or a liar willing to look like a moron. Worst-case scenario he's both.

I hate this part. Fuck Coil, truly.

Hate.

Let me tell you how much I've come to hate Coil since I began to read Worm.

There are one million, six hundred and eighty million words in the web serial Worm. If the word "hate" replaced every character within those words it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for Coil in this micro-instant.

Hate.

Hate.

So this is actually a genius bit of writing, but it's also ironclad proof that Coil has loose gravel in place of a brain. The chances of success are lowering because "the Undersiders" are increasingly unlikely to include Skitter as a member, because she's sickened, horrified, and outraged by what her boss is doing and absolutely will not do what he asks of her at this rate. I'm willing to bet Tattletale knows what's going on, provided that she managed to tear her eyes away from the horror show in order to check on her teammates, but Coil, resident criminal mastermind, apparently doesn't realize that the odds for his pet villain team are getting worse because he's making one of the strongest members of the team hate him more with every second of this exchange.

We know what's going on in Taylor's head before she can even say anything because of this exchange. That's really well done.

I hope Coil dies screaming.

I was going to post a line from Arc 5 or 6 that I'd noticed, about the offhand news of a girl missing presumed dead, but I couldn't find it when I was going back through. I knew about it well before starting my liveread, though. Dinah Alcott. The twelve-year-old girl Coil keeps in his basement, gives drugs, and calls "pet."

Maybe I could've liked Coil more if he was just a kind of ineffectual mastermind and lousy boss, or maybe I wouldn't have felt such an active revulsion towards him, I dunno. But this puts him on a different layer of evil than just some kinda shadowy puppet master or gang boss or whatever. This isn't cops and robbers, this is the same kind of foul play that Heartbreaker operates on, and everyone hates Heartbreaker.

Also not sure exactly what emotions Tattletale is dealing with here but I don't know if people can make the blood drain from their face on demand so she's probably not fronting? She's had me nervous ever since she started more openly cooperating with Coil, but here's reassurance she's got a standard that he doesn't.

Current Thoughts

I will clap and cheer when Coil gets what's coming to him.

[raidenenthusiast]

everyone gets so unreasonably mad at asuka for being pissed at shinji in the rebuilds which like. yes we're experiencing everything through shinji's eyes so the audience holds a bias towards him that the characters have no perspective on blah blah blah but i think you guys are also forgetting asuka is still a fourteen year old girl. weird age technicalities aside she spent fourteen extra years of life living in limbo & she has zero context for how it happened except that the actions of this dude (unknowingly or not) eventually lead to her constant suffering & also the destruction of the world as everyone knew it

the third impact isn't shinji's fault technically but the POINT is that the other characters either don't know that or don't really have it in them to care about that. on top of all that, the thing about asuka is that she's always chasing this kind of closure that she's rarely allowed to actually get her hands on & when she's finally freed from her own personal hell & gets her hands on the guy she thinks caused it, he's basically the equivalent of a dead fish

there's no satisfaction or closure to be found in being angry at someone who thinks they deserve it. ESPECIALLY given the state shinji is in after kaworu's death (basically a walking corpse mentally to the point he has to be force fed because he won't eat his will to live is THAT low) & all that does for asuka is make her angrier

think about it; you've blamed your suffering on one guy for years & then you finally get to confront him & he basically doesn't fight back at all & it feels like you're yelling at a dead body which only pisses you off more because it just makes everything feel pointless & you hate feeling like what you do doesn't matter so it's just this endless cycle of pain & anger & nothing ever gets resolved & also you are a fourteen year old girl who survived the apocalypse

i dunno man i love shinji he's literally one of my favorite characters of all time but you cannot fault asuka for this one. her (& others') response isn't supposed to be rational or logical or even make sense to the audience because she's a traumatized fourteen year old girl & the human heart is not "rational" that's kind of the entire point of evangelion you guys

[realbeijinger]

Another semi-coherent rant on climate change, the value of idealism, and TGCF (I finally finished!)

Well, I finished Tian Guan Ci Fu. And, oh man, if you read my last post, you’ll know that I was terrified that the entire novel would be a criticism of blind idealism. But I am SO glad I was wrong!!! Looking back on what I wrote before… it’s kind of hilarious how worried I was. I was so sure that I knew where it was going, was so busy preparing myself to be offended/emotionally crushed, that I wouldn’t even entertain the idea that maybe MXTX had a similar worldview to me all along.

In my defense, aside from the line, “Something like saving the common people… although foolish, it is brave,” everything seemed to point toward the idea that trying to do good is pointless. I mean, up until the moment when Xie Lian was lying with a sword in his chest on the streets of Yong’an, all of his efforts to do good had essentially been in vain. He hadn’t been able to help anyone.

And then, when the one guy stopped and gave Xie Lian his hat, I dunno, I just cried. It was so perfect! Like, ugh, damn you, MXTX! So sneaky… destroying us, just to bring us back later!! It was such a small, insignificant win, but it was exactly what Xie Lian (and I) needed. I love the line, “Just one person was enough!” Just one person doing something selfless. It’s enough to give us hope.   

It really resonates with me because I think a lot about how to maintain hope. In terms of the climate crisis, I feel like Xie Lian—completely powerless. I want to stop eating meat, use less plastic, spend more time on environmental activism, but honestly, what do any of these things matter? The meat industry is not going to change because I choose to stop consuming. Even my activism has a completely negligible effect—whether or not I join a protest or write a letter to my congressman will almost certainly not be the deciding factor for any climate legislation, no matter how much effort I put in.  

And yet, I still want to. I love the moment when Xie Lian chooses to get stabbed over and over rather than create a second plague of Human Face Disease, and White No-Face asks him in shock, “Why??”—as in, why would you ever do that? And Xie Lian responds: “I don’t have a reason��just because I want to! Even if I explained it to you… Useless trash like you wouldn’t understand.” This line is so great. Xie Lian can’t explain it to White No-Face, because, in truth, it isn’t entirely logical. It can’t be explained by reason. I want to do my measly, unimportant part to help the world… because I want to. Because it feels right. Because it’s my way of keeping my heart, of maintaining faith that there is some good in this world worth upholding. (As an aside, I love how the English title of the live action drama—which we may never get to see, God damn censorship!!!!—is called “Eternal Faith.” Of course it refers to Hua Cheng and Xie Lian’s faith in each other, but I think it also means having eternal faith in the value of doing good, despite centuries of experience that seem to show its pointlessness.)

As I talked about in my last post, if you zoom out far enough, nothing really seems to matter. Everything we love and care about will one day be gone. And yet, I believe we still have to act like it matters. This is the basic tenant of existentialism, and I think MXTX portrays this philosophical paradox really beautifully.

It’s funny, because I think MXTX has a lot of profound things to say, but in an interview I read, she warned against viewing her work too deeply, saying, “I am not a guru.” I get that she may not want the responsibility of giving people spiritual advice, but I do think she presents some really fascinating, really novel, philosophical ideas. So, sorry MXTX, but I’m about to analyze TGCF like it’s a piece of freakin scripture. Soo here we go…

The main theme she comes back to again and again is that fortune is limited, so the only way you can do good for others is by taking fortune from somebody else. Which leads the characters to a bunch of ethically impossible choices: the people of Yong’an and the people of Xianle can’t all be saved (Xie Lian must choose who to help), neither can the people of Wuyong and the surrounding kingdoms (Prince of Wuyong must choose), and Shi Wudu can’t save his brother from a tragic fate without taking fortune from an innocent person. When the characters try to avoid choosing, and try to “play God” by creating a “third path,” it just invites disaster.

But is this really true? Is fortune actually limited? It’s an idea that reminds me of Buddhism and Daoism, but also seems kind of revolutionary… (I like to think I know something about Chinese philosophy but it could certainly be a thing and I don’t know). I don’t believe in fate, but I do believe in limited resources, and the idea that nature tends toward balance. I think conceiving of it this way, as a pool of fortune, is really interesting.   

It reminds me of this Meme:

In other words, who is the protagonist and who is the villain is entirely based on perspective. And, according to the laws of nature, we all must survive by eating others, or causing others to starve (i.e. avoiding being eaten).

I tried to think if this is really true in all areas of life. I’m a teacher, and one of the ways I convince myself that I am doing good in the world is by helping my students—preparing them well for college so that they can get into good schools and follow their dreams. But then, is this just taking fortune from others? If I do prepare my students well, and as a result they all get into top universities, does that mean they are taking spots away from other students? Am I simply just helping “my own,” at the expense of others?

One place where I see this concept play out very clearly is with our modern, industrialized society. As I mentioned in my last post, we live in a world of abundance. Most of us have enough food to eat, live in houses with electricity and running water, and don’t worry about a whole host of diseases endured by our ancestors. It seems we have done what Xie Lian couldn’t—we have expanded the well of fortune for most of humanity.

But this fortune wasn’t spontaneously created. It was taken from other species. It was borrowed against our own future, when climate change will likely destroy this world of abundance we have created, causing untold suffering. In truth, when it comes to prosperity, there is no such thing as a free lunch.   

Even now, when we ought to be enjoying our fortune, most of us are not happy. We want other things. We take food, clothing, and shelter for granted, creating even bigger, more lofty demands—a bigger car, a better house, a machine that’s sole purpose is to make bread. In fact, it seems like whenever we make things “better,” the goalposts just move. I recently read a book called Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, which mentioned that with the advent of washing machines and vacuum cleaners, everyone assumed there would be more free time. Yet, the real outcome was that standards of cleanliness just changed. Suddenly, people expected you to wear fresh clothes every day and have a perfectly dust-free home, which meant spending just as much time cleaning as in the past.     

And according to psychologists, getting what we want doesn’t really make us happier. Instead, something like getting a promotion causes our happiness to spike, before it quickly returns to baseline. The psychologist Dan Gilbert writes that the purpose of our emotions is to act like a compass—to tell us which direction to go in. If you feel good, you can continue the way you are going. If you feel bad, you should probably turn—make a change. But if you get what you want and become permanently happy, your compass is now broken. It’s stuck in one direction and becomes useless.

All of this is very Buddhist, of course. Suffering is not caused by our external circumstances, but our desire to change them.

Like I said, I don’t necessarily believe in “fate” or “fortune.” But I believe this all points to something deeper that MXTX is getting at: which is that we cannot fundamentally make a better world, for the common people, or for anyone. This idea of “better” doesn’t really exist. The world is as it is. Trying to alter that is like playing God. And like Xie Lian says, “In this world, there are no true gods…”  

So, what do we do? How can we survive this absurdist tragedy of life? I don’t think we can just throw up our hands and not give a shit—that way lies depression and Jun Wu-style cruelty. We cannot lose our heart. But we also can’t try to fix everything.

One thing I find a bit difficult about MXTX is she is very clear about the impossible situations our characters find themselves in, but not really clear about the solution. She seems critical of the characters’ actions (I’m thinking also of Wei Wuxian here), but what exactly does she think they should have done? In other words, what is the point?

I spent a long time thinking about this. And I realized that Xie Lian was able to get back on his feet, find happiness and make peace with himself. How did he do this? Ultimately, I see Xie Lian’s solution as having three parts: self-sacrifice, gratitude, and purpose. Which all sounds very academic and maybe not that profound on an emotional level. But hear me out. Because, in the end, I think these choices are incredibly beautiful. They are the kind of thing that make me feel like reading TGCF was actually a spiritual experience, no matter what MXTX says. That makes me admire Xie Lian and want to follow him (like the God he is).

Okay so first: self-sacrifice. If fortune is limited, and the only way to make others’ lives better is to take fortune from someplace else, then there is really only one place you can take it from without hurting others—yourself.

So, part of Xie Lian’s solution is to take fortune from himself and give it to others. It’s why he asks for a cursed shackle that disperses his fortune, so that his fortune will naturally flow to those around him. It’s, of course, a very small thing. He is no longer playing God, or trying to “fix” the world on a grand scale. He is simply, in his own, quiet way, serving the common people.

My desire to give up meat and to spend more time on activism—these things feel like big sacrifices for me. And yet, they will have a very small impact on the greater situation in the world. They’re a drop in the ocean. I still want to do it, but it’s hard. It’s hard to care, or think that these things matter. Yet, this is the trade-off Xie Lian was willing to make. I really admire him for it.   

I believe self-sacrifice is actually a really important, beautiful thing, that our society has forgotten the value of. We are individualistic—obsessed with our own wants. As I mentioned previously, our expectations have risen, so we buy and buy and buy. We are unwilling to rein in our consumption. I know a lot of people baulk at lifestyle changes as a solution to the climate crisis, and I agree that putting pressure on individuals instead of governments or corporations is misguided. But, first of all, there simply aren’t enough resources on earth to sustain our current levels of consumption. And, second… I don’t think we can completely let individuals off the hook. What is society anyway, but a collection of individuals? If we are going to address this thing, it’s going to take a massive movement—bigger than the civil rights movement or the works’ rights movement or the women’s movement. It’s going to take millions of people worldwide getting out of their own heads, their own lives, and concerning themselves with the greater good. That requires immense sacrifice.

Which takes me to gratitude. In order to be willing to sacrifice, you have to appreciate what you already have.

People often talk about gratitude these days as a path to mental health. Instinctively, it sounds like an uplifting, positive thing. And it is… but it also entails having a relatively negative worldview. It means remembering all the horrible things that exist in this world which we are lucky enough to avoid on a daily basis. You stepped in some dog shit? Well, that sucks, but you could have stepped into an open manhole and broken your neck! So! That’s something to be grateful for.  

We are all so lucky. I’m sure everyone reading this has pains and traumas and challenges. This isn’t to diminish those, but, I hope, at least we all have at least one person to love. That’s all Hua Cheng had, and it’s what kept him going. Just one person was enough. And most of us, I hope, get to eat food every day, get to sleep in a bed, get to play video games or read novels or write poetry when we are sad. Not everyone gets those things.  

Xie Lian, of course, was the king of low expectations, because he knew his future was going to be bad. He had intentionally accepted bad luck for a lifetime. So, there was no point in hoping for things to get better.

I think this attitude is best shown by his interaction with the Venerable of Empty words. The Venerable of Empty Words feeds off people’s fears. But Xie Lian didn’t really have any. When the Venerable of Empty Words warned him that his hut will collapse in two months, his response is, “Two months? If it’s still standing in seven days, then it’ll be a real miracle.” Because his expectations are so low, he’s essentially immune to fear. I can’t help but think that if you could really think this way, it would be a kind of superpower. It reminds me of the famous quote by spiritual teacher Krishnamurti, “Do you know what my secret is? You see, I don’t mind what happens.”

And so Xie Lian is okay with everything. He can sleep anywhere, crash boulders on his chest for money, not eat for three days, regularly suffer corpse poisoning, and still be okay.

Which leads to my third point: purpose. Xie Lian is able to endure such hardship because his expectations are low, but also he knows all his suffering has a purpose. “If I am to become a God of misfortune, then so be it,” he says. “As long as I know deep down that I am not.” He is okay with being laughed at or avoided for his bad luck, because deep down he knows he is doing the right thing. People can withstand a great deal if they feel their suffering has meaning. In Man’s Search for Meaning, the psychiatrist Victor Frankl’s writes about the horrors of living through a concentration camp, and how over and over, it was creating purpose that allowed him, and others, to find motivation to survive. Which I think has an important lesson for self-sacrifice. People are willing to sacrifice a lot, if they feel their sacrifice has purpose.

I get it when MXTX says that she is not a guru, and maybe it’s a lot to ask of a danmei novel to take spiritual advice from it. The book wasn’t necessarily perfect, and I do have some critiques (which I was gonna add here, but this thing is already wayyy too long). But… I do think I found something really meaningful in this story—some inspiration. I want to follow Xie Lian’s example, and live with gratitude and acceptance, while keeping my faith in doing the right thing. In other words, WWXLD! (What Would Xie Lian Do?)

[littleeyesofpallas]

At this point I've basically long since run dry on Bleach funfacts, certainly out of any that have any real weight in the broader readings of the series. But I do have one not-so-fun fact still left up my sleeve --a real dead end nothing contribution... So buckle up, I guess? I apologize in advance if this ends up, like, I dunno, spoiling the aesthetic(?) for anyone. Feel free to just ignore this and move on if you're touchy about keeping your obsessive fandom experiences squeaky clean.

So, I noted back when I was combing thru Quincy terms, that it felt a little less than comfy that in addition to the general n*zi aesthetics Juugram's official title was in fact "Sternritter Grand Master" which felt, at the time, like an unfortunate coincidence that it would fall in line with the naming scheme of the K*K's nonsense titles like Grand Wizard/Grand Dragon, Grand Cyclops, Grand Magi and various other ridiculous sounding occultist LARPer horseshit they've cycled thru over the past century+. But I just kinda left it at that and didn't think to dig any deeper,

But then I was reminded that in the early days of the K*K one of their stated goals was to establish a white supremacist "country" inside the united states, and as they dabbled in this insurgency fantasy, they dubbed this goal of a secret, second, white nation within the confines of the USA, their "Invisible Empire"...

And although the word we hear throughout the TYBW arc is the German Wändenreich[ヴァンデンライヒ] from Wänden:“Walls” and Reich:“Empire/Realm,” the Japanese meaning underlying that term is [見えざる帝国]: “Unseen/Invisible Empire.”

In fact the white robed and hoods tradition stemmed from what were initially petty pranks(although they escalated very quickly in seriousness and danger) in which they would menace black communities and abolitionists by pretending to be the ghosts of dead confederates. In this capacity the imagery and language around them also evoked an "Army of Ghosts."

And although it was never properly addressed, there was always this vague issue of the Quincy's ages... Those with clear backgrounds like Juugram and Bazz-B seem impossibly old. And we see that As Nodt is recruited on what appears to be his deathbed --in a hospital, on life support and in fear of dying, with a bible on his bedside as if ready to be read his last rites-- and of course the Quincy genocide of 200 years prior.

And tangential to this, we see the brief, if mostly pointless, return of the three dead Fullbringers --Ginjo, Tsukishima, and Giriko-- who all seem to have retained their memories and powers across the borders of life and death. (We won't ask about how or why their fullbring items are still usable) Is it safe to speculate then that the Quincy are in fact a literal Army of Ghosts? It explains how they're able to go toe to toe with the shinigami in ways Uryuu's initial explanations of their skills would've suggested wasn't possible. (i.e. that they were describes as being regular flesh and bone humans and only their weapons are actually supernatural, and thus they are not capable of particularly extraordinary physical feats, or blessed with any superhuman durability.) And it also sort of makes more sense that rather than being a bunch of flesh and blood humans who survived losing the war, somehow spiritized themselves to get into the afterlife, and then hid for 999 years, that they could have just been humans who died first and were recruited as ghosts, having been spirited away into the shadow realm. Or Quincy that died with the full intent of reuniting as ghosts, having some kind of assurance that they would retain their memories and powers.

I like the former over the latter though, as it means the Ishida family really were the last living Quincy. But I do like the morbid idea of Yhwach commanding his army, Jamestown style, to kill themselves as the first step to them going to heaven. Only in this case the kingdom of god as they imagine it has to be fought for because the shinigami are already have a whole society there and need to be driven out first.

There is also a lot of "Knight" and "White Knight" imagery and titles evoked in the K*K's long history, and while that's absolutely vague enough to be handwaved on its own, it's definitely not not adjacent to all this....

(This has nothing to do with anything I just had already slapped the uniforms pic together and wanted to use it somewhere)

So to sort of loosely review everything going on with the Quincy....

Catholic inverted priest frocks, crosses, silver and exorcisms, holy eucharist angel wings&halo final forms, blood eucharist schrift, conversion based recruitment policies, the whole "one kingdom under god" shtick, miracle baby son of god christ figure, explicit mention of monotheism

but then also 5 pointed crosses/stars and pentagrams,

victims of a genocide with a dr.mengele nemesis, YHWACH-v-YHWH

inverted Hugo Boss uniforms, german themed attacks, skills and tools, crosses again, explicitly evoking the Schutzstaffel with Yhwach's royal guard, and nonsense blood purity eugenics b.s.... weirdly not touched upon "black sun" or swastika imagery tied to Ichigo

For some reason a few loose threads of what appear to be Loius XIV and his sun god apollo fixation, purifying light and sun and stars motifs

YHWACH having big Backbeard energy, the literal evocation of Backbeard, being a western ghost army

and now these mismatched crumbs of what appear to be deliberate K*K references: ghost army, invisible empire, grandmaster, etc...

Like... I don't think this makes them worse, or paints Kubo as some kind of crackpot racist --in case my stance on his use of n*zi imagery didn't make that clear-- but like... I don't know what to make of it honestly... It's as inconsequential to the actual message or plot as anything else, including the n*zi stuff, but it just feels weird knowing it's there? Just sorta loitering around in the background?? Also the Quincy are just such a bizarre clusterfuck of unfocused nonsense ""themes"" with like zero actual content just in general. Given everything that's in that slurry I think that might be for the better? Because any coherent message drawn from all of these influences probably couldn't have been any good...

[tobiasdrake]

Obsessed with what it means to be a follower of Junko's ideology of despair. Like. We all know and understand what despair is as a feeling. But. What is despair as an ideological driving force? What does it mean to create a world of despair - like, on the macro scale?

What is the culture of Ultimate Despair as a global movement?

"What is despair as an ideology?" is an incredibly complicated question to answer. So much so that Junko 2.0 herself, Monaca Towa, got twisted up in confused knots trying to answer it and wound up ragequitting the whole thing.

Because at the end of the day, trying to pin a legitimate philosophy to Ultimate Despair may well be an effort in futility. It's an attempt to interpret a consistent and credible belief system out of the impulsive ramblings of a self-destructive neurodivergent teenager chasing the most extreme possible stims. Ultimate Despair as an ideology defies rationality by design.

What does Despair with a capital D mean? I dunno. What does it mean to you?

Culturally, I think Ultimate Despair would be an onion. It would have a lot in common with other kinds of cults; There'd be layers to it. Various depths to descend into when you're ready for the next step of radicalization.

On the surface, the outermost layer of the onion, you have the recruitment and enabling layer. This is where everyone begins their journey into despair. The layer that takes you in and tells you it's okay. It's okay to be yourself. You don't have to pretend. We're not going to judge you. You can find a home here.

This is where recruitment begins, as vulnerable people are given a support network and social structure with one hand, while being fed rhetoric with the other.

On the next layer down, you'd have nihilistic vice indulgence. Nothing matters, there are no rules, so go ahead and do whatever you want. You want to eat the entire pizza? Gamble your savings away? Stab your asshole neighbor in the throat with a fork? You go do that thing. I believe in you.

The second layer is freedom from social consequence. It's where you're taught to stop trying. Stop trying to be better. Stop hoping for a better world. Just give up and indulge your base desires. Despair can be a force for empowerment. Just live in your feelings and do. It doesn't matter what.

At the third layer, you begin to understand what the others are talking about when they say hope is not the enemy of despair, but the fuel for it. It sounded like gibberish before. But you've been listening to podcasts and talking to other members and it's starting to settle in.

You're starting to look forward to things. Foolish, pointless, unnecessary things just to set yourself up for failure. You're playing tricks on other members, inventing lies to get them excited so they can feel the sting of disappointment right alongside you.

Rather than a means to the end of enjoying things, enjoying things is becoming a means to the end of experiencing despair. You're starting to play a trick on your own mind, reframing the hurt and disappointment as enjoyable. You're falling in love with being as miserable as the rest of your community, so you can all commiserate together.

You're learning to wear your misery as a badge of honor.

The fourth layer would then be self-harm. Once people become convinced that despair is empowering then the next step down is the active pursuit of despair. Emotions you depend on can become very addictive. This stage is where trauma becomes a drug.

This stage uses trauma as a ritual of group investment, the way other cults use toxic machismo or financial investment or acts of devotion to their cause. Break your childhood mementos. Shoot your dog. Stab yourself in the gut. Kill your parents. Post pictures of it online and tell your tale so all your bros know how epic of a true despair sufferer you are.

On the upper layers of the onion, they'll assure you that these guys aren't a real thing. Critics of the movement are blowing things out of proportion. But you hit this point and there's nothing better than the rush you get when you find a new form of despair to put on yourself, and everyone else gets to watch you do it and go, "Whoa, I want to get traumatized THAT hard!"

But. Once you've burned all your stuff and killed everyone you love, where do you go from there?

The fifth and final layer is where you receive your mission. You've chased group participation to its farthest possible extreme and nothing means anything anymore. You've desensitized yourself to the world so much that you've become numb to the idea of anything truly mattering. All you have left in front of you is to die for the cause. That's the only purpose your life even has anymore.

You're ready to put on a Monokuma mask and go deface the Statue of Liberty or blow up New York or something. Whatever the leadership structure of Ultimate Despair, which has been largely silent up until this point and allowed the community itself to mold you, now needs from you. You came into this to escape from the burdens of society and now you're ready to become a soldier.

And if they don't give you a mission then you'll devise one on your own. Your final hope is that you'll be remembered as a hero of the cause. Like all other hopes, it is a lie.

[progmanx]

Soo… thoughts on the flip side?

I enjoyed it when I played it, but it left zero lasting impression on me, unlike the first two games. It holds no special place in my heart, and I honestly question why it exists. I think there's a lot you COULD say about sex workers and how that internal perception works, how Jecka's total lack of control in her life paralyzes her, but...I don't think this has really much to say at all. The FYE route reads and feels like a bad South Park episode, which is completely baffling.

And for the love of God if you want to if you NEED to for some reason make a joke about how this kid from the suburbs doesn't know geography SAY PAKISTAN FIRST as the one she is mixing up that was so tone deaf and pointless as a writing decision.

As much as SBN3 talks about how humor and jokes work and that's what he does? Where are the jokes. The same bit with Jecka's dad screaming at her is kind of funny the first time you play it but it's not gonna work twice. There's no longevity there's no LIFE to this, unlike the first two.

Basically none of the humor is actually going to be funny a second time unlike ALL of the Re-Up and a lot of the original game. For something that marketed itself as "the other games matter here to remember" they really didn't except the Nicole suicide route which was done extremely well but...we already did this messaging. That's why it was good we did ALL of this before. There was nothing actually new here to explore or say.

Just a remix in a far more muddied and far less entertaining way. Three routes are about jobs in the Recession which could be really interesting to explore but. They didn't.

I don't even have a problem with the feet thing, tbh, but it's the SAME joke over and over and over and it stops working faster than the game thinks it does imo.

Nicole having toe sex with Jecka's dad feels...baffling and bizarre. Especially after how much time was spent in the sex worker route FOR NICOLE last time. She can't fuck a stranger sober but she can do this? To this old creepy dude she is disgusted by at the start? I know she's vindictive but jfc???

We did this already.

Ms. Ames as the counselor (no she's not she's Remedial English), Kyle as...cited as the guy who killed his mom for Jecka in the opening but then he's just there? Again, talking about how the other games matter but they don't?? There's like. No characterization here, but most of all, above everything else, why I only enjoyed it once and why I don't love it?

There is not one trace of sincerity outside of the Nicole Suicide route. BECAUSE THAT'S FROM THE FIRST GAME. It all feels just so...hollow and forced and frustrated and almost spiteful. Like why the fuck is it ARI who dies and not JECKA KILLING HER DAD?! There's no consistency here, basically everyone is flanderized I just.

what the fuck?

I'm not even that disappointed, since I went in expecting nothing, but to go that hard on the first two and then you show up with whatever the hell this is? Anachronism after anachronism---if you want to talk about instituional cp you need to actually oh gee I dunno give that some fucking room. You SHOULD talk about it if you feel you can in a way that's HELPFUL but shouting it with nothing else to say doesn't do shit and really doesn't fit with...the other games actually saying stuff and meaning it.

I have defended the Mr. White stuff because of how easy the slippery slope of radicalization is but this is just fucking stupid. There's nothing to this. It's a bunch of references in the FYE route and if you can't get Antfish back just do not put the counselor in the voice doesn't work with an impression. There's like. no actual banter in this game, either. There's no solid back and forth.

I doubt I'll stick around for the anime if this is where things are at, like okay man. You had two great things I'll always love them. This gave me a fun evening and I am already struggling to remember anything that happened or anything that was said. The other two are seared into my brain forevermore.

also that last text message was just lazy troll dick move; everyone will think he is being entirely serious.

God just

HOW DO YOU GO FROM HAVING A COMEDY DUO THAT IS UP THERE WITH ABBOT AND COSTELLO TO DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING?!

[jelzorz]

164.

As per @raayllum's request. Takes place/makes references to the fruit (~7 years post-series end, aka everyone is a fully consenting adult) which is not required reading but does explain what Rayla is talking about and is my justification for the existence of this ship.

"It's weird."

"No, it isn't."

"It is."

"Callum." Rayla lets out a breath. She likes to think she's been pretty patient about this, but it's been a long couple of months, and she's growing bored of managing Callum's expectations for him. To an extent, she understands: first Claudia had come home, and rather than be sentenced for her crimes, Ez had pardoned her, and then, somehow, had started courting her, and Rayla had thought that was weird too at first, but the fit Callum had thrown was pointless at best, and stupid and immature at worst. Rayla is his partner, his wife now, before she is anything else, and she's defended him in the past for his poor decision making and his poorer behaviour, but she will not defend him for his spat with Ez.

He has, thankfully, grown past it, but the reason he put his head back on straight is the new thing he can't get past, and they're not even dressed for dinner yet but Rayla is already exhausted by his inability to process the unexpected.

He pouts at her, helpless, confused, but Rayla would have more sympathy for him if he hadn't spent the last few months in a cold war with Ezran. She will not forgive him if he has another one with Soren and Opeli.

"What's the problem, exactly?" she demands, her patience well and truly wearing thin. "Is there something wrong with them being together?"

"I just—" Callum sputters, his brain obviously stuck on the word together like it's hammer caught between the gears of his brain. "It's—Soren—"

"You had no issues when Soren was dating Corvus."

"No, it's not—" He huffs. "With Opeli?"

"Yes. With Opeli. And?"

He flounders for a moment longer, looking more and more a like a fish gasping for air. "It's... I dunno, Rayla, the thought that they—they—"

"Oh, it's the sex, is it?"

Callum slams his mouth shut and goes so red that it takes all of Rayla's willpower not to dissolve into hysterics right there and then. Admittedly, she'd had the fortune of being told straight—by Opeli, when she'd gone investigating after the tension between all her friends had begun to piss her off. Callum and Ez were already refusing to talk to each other last spring, and when Opeli and Soren started to avoid each other too, Rayla had put her foot down and ambushed her in her office before the situation could grow anymore out of hand.

Then... Well. This summer hasn't been easy for them. She will not let Callum make it worse.

"Don't say it like that." Callum squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at his temples. "It's—Opeli's like a mom, y'know?"

Rayla snorts at him. "Mums have sex, Callum."

"And Soren is like—he's like one of us. It's—it's kind of—" He grimaces, and for what it's worth, looks genuinely frustrated at himself for not being able to reconcile it. Rayla gives him some grace for that. "Look, I don't want you to think I'm not, like, happy for them? It's just... Opeli's been High Cleric my whole life, and she's been looking out for us since we were teenagers, and she's so much older that—"

Rayla stops him there with a scowl. "Is there something wrong with ageing women, Callum?"

"What? No! That's not—"

"Is she not allowed want things, Callum?"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Is Soren not allowed to think she's attractive just because she's older?"

"Rayla." He bows his head, resigned, exhausted, ashamed. "There's nothing wrong with them being together," he concedes. "Like. They're both adults. It's their decision. And after everything they've both done, and after what happened this summer... If they're happy, that's all that matters. My brain just... needs time, I guess." Then, quietly, and perhaps a little pathetically, he adds, "Sorry."

Rayla blinks at him, pleasantly surprised by his maturity after the months without it. "I get it," she says at last. "It threw me for a loop too, but at the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. They're still our friends. Our family. We'd still do anything for them, right?"

Callum nods childishly, and Rayla offers him a smile at last and pats his cheek. "Let's go have dinner with them. Think you can do that without having an aneurysm?"

He gives her a look. "Give me some credit."

Rayla laughs at that, loops her arm through his, and presses a kiss into his cheek. "Good," she says with a chuckle, "because Soren's been bugging me about this double date for weeks. Let's just have a good time with our friends, okay?"

Callum takes a breath but he smiles, if a little nervously, and nods. "Yeah. Sounds good."

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

I think that the focus would be, like you've said, on keeping the clones from being ABLE to be turned against the Jedi and taking out Palpatine. I mean, honestly, if you just take out Palpatine in the first place, then you can slowly figure out the situation with the clones without having to worry quite so much about them being a ticking time bomb.

You can certainly argue that it's worthwhile to try to keep Anakin from siding with Palpatine, because having Anakin go Sith right as they take out Palpatine (and maybe Dooku), isn't exactly ideal. Having Anakin's HELP as they go after Palpatine and Dooku WOULD be ideal, and it requires making sure Anakin doesn't go dark.

I've seen a number of different solutions to the time travel issue, and it can depend on who it is that's traveling and how much they do or don't know. Sometimes it's a matter of that one time traveler just gathering up a bunch of Jedi and going to kill Palpatine and that's it job done. Sometimes it's a long drawn out process where the time traveler has to make small changes one by one and just hope that eventually they'll be able to make enough changes quickly enough that things will work out better this time.

I feel like even people like Luke and Obi-Wan who DO care about saving Anakin will still recognize that focusing on him is kind-of pointless. It's Palpatine they need to focus on, especially if they don't know about the chips and therefore can't really trust the clones. You save Anakin by removing Palpatine from the playing board as quickly as possible, and both Luke and Obi-Wan are going to know that. Ahsoka? It's hard to know, given that her initial reaction in Rebels is to blame HERSELF and at no point have we heard her blame Palpatine, but she'd also be perfectly aware of what Palpatine was and what he became, so it's not unreasonable to assume she'd go after him, too. And Ahsoka has the benefit of being one of the few people we know for sure is aware of the chips and could address that or pass that information on to someone.

So, I dunno, I feel like MOST Jedi/Force sensitive time travelers would focus on killing Palpatine, regardless of whether they were someone who cared about Anakin or not, because Palpatine is just one of the most obvious targets to remove. Clones who know about their chips might focus more on that since they'd know that going up against Palpatine themselves would be foolish; clones who DON'T know about the chips it's hard to say because how the fuck would they ever explain what they experienced to someone. Anyone not in those categories like Bail Organa would probably also focus on Palpatine but via a more political route. Even Padme, for all of her blind spots, would likely recognize Palpatine as the bigger threat.

[bubble-popping]

day 15! give it up for day 15!!! i don't think i've ever written anything more c!rivalsduo than this idk what i was on but this captures their dynamic so well. set in my blood of the covenant au on ao3 :)

The last thing Technoblade expected on his doorstep that morning was a certain server admin. He supposed it wasn't that surprising, considering how they'd worked together to destroy Manberg or L'Manberg, whatever they referred to the cursed place as these days, but that didn't exactly call for a sudden visit. How did he even know where to find him? But he could overlook the strangeness and growing concern he had because he'd truly never heard Dream sound so earnest. "Forgive me, Dream, just makin' sure I heard ya right. Ya said ya want me to heh?"

Dream visibly bristled, shoulders going up to his chin--or at least, where Techno assumed his chin was. "Don't play dumb, Techno, I know you heard me. With those-those giant ears of yours." He tried to sound intimidating. Keyword: tried. Because Techno had a pretty good hunch Dream was red as a bush of berries under that ever-smiling mask.

"Relax, man, I'm just clarifyin'." Techno raised his hands in surrender. "So, ya said ya want to learn to make a ring, right? Why would ya come to me for that?"

"Well, cuz you're good with gold, right? Ya know, part piglin and all."

Techno pushed his lips to one side. "That's a little racist, Dream, not gonna lie."

Dream sputtered, entire body jolting like the raised fur of a frightened cat. The mask became kind of pointless when he was still so expressive in his body language. "WHAT, no! That's not-it wouldn't even be racist! It'd be like, species-ist or something-that's not the point!" And Techno couldn't help but laugh because, honestly, this was the guy everyone feared? Dream just scoffed, attempting to square his posture into something more befitting his villainous reputation. "Are you gonna help me or just laugh at me?"

"I dunno, makin' fun of ya sounds real temptin'." Techno shrugged, leaning lazily against the doorway to his newly built tundra home. "What kinda ring ya lookin' to make?"

At this, Dream grew quiet, contemplative. After a minute, he replied, "The kind that'll last. The kind that... that says everything I don't know how to put into words."

And again, Techno had never heard that sort of tone from the man. Soft and reverent, as if there existed anyone on this server somehow above him.

Techno hummed as he debated this. A genuine request, and the potential significance wasn't lost to him that Dream came to him for this. "I'll help ya, Dream."

"Really?"

"On one condition." And all the happiness seemed to instantly fall out of Dream's demeanor.

"What? What is it?"

"Who's the ring for?"

"Not happening," Dream deadpanned.

"Well, then, I guess no ring for you-"

"Ugh! Okay, fine, just, just look. You CAN'T tell ANYONE. Got it? Not even-not even Phil. Like, NO ONE."

"Ya can just say it's George, Dream. Everyone knows ya love him-"

"What, NO-it's not George!"

"Sapnap?"

"No."

"Then...?"

The admin sighed. He looked around, then leaned in before whispering, "It's Punz."

Techno blinked. Once, twice, then narrowed his eyes. Finally, he asked, "Who?"

But Dream didn't respond. In fact, he was deathly still. Statue-like, absolutely nothing given away.

"No, I'm-I'm serious, Dream. I dunno who that is."

"That's not my problem." Dream crossed his arms. "Now, c'mon, you owe me a ring."

"How do I know yer not just lyin' and sayin' some random name-"

"It's not my fault you don't know, bacon! Figure it out yourself-AFTER you help me make the ring."

"Fine, fine. A deal's a deal, and I'm a man of my word."

"More like pigman of your word."

"See, that's not how ya get a ring, Dream."