#i hope you understand how much these two mean to me

[muletia]

[tfp] optimus prime x human!reader

summary: you had to go on a business trip. optimus doesn't take it too well

cw: obsessed!optimus, hardcore pinning, angst, i wanted to practice writing dialogues and it shows lmao

word count: 1800

an: i want you guys to know that i am reading EVERY reblog and comment from you swirling my hair and kicking my legs like a schoolgirl

you are so real for that anon

When you, out of your own free will, expressed the desire to join him on patrol, Optimus was overjoyed. You rarely got the chance to be together, just the two of you, always consumed by work or saving the world. And although Optimus wouldn’t dare ask you outright to accompany him on patrols (because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable), he deeply longed to spend more time with you alone. He knew he was feeding only his own illusions, fueling the machinery of madness, but by this point, he couldn’t stop. Not when you sat comfortably on his seat, gazing at the views outside the window, visibly content with your outing together.

He wanted so badly for this to be your everyday reality. Maybe then he could finally find some relief from his fixation, maybe you would even save him.

"Hey," you started, and his entire attention focused on you. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while."

Oh.

Did your feelings match his? Did you feel affection for him as well? Had you noticed his suffering? Or maybe you wanted to reject him, once and for all, to make him understand that his passion was an illusion, that no matter how much he wanted it, the two of you could never be together — too incompatible, too different. That he had developed this coping mechanism, exhausted by the war.

But before Optimus could spiral further, you crushed his hopes.

"The company I work for is sending me on a business trip," you sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the news. "It’s supposed to take two weeks, but you never really know with these trips, especially since they’re sending me across the continent."

"I understand," he replied, his tone not betraying the turmoil within. "What does this business trip involve?"

"Oh, shoot, sorry! I should have explained that right away," you laughed casually as if you hadn’t just delivered news that shattered his spark. "Business trip is assigned by an employer for training sessions, conferences, exhibitions, and other boring stuff. Kind of like a mission, but without explosions, action, or danger."

It was good to hear that you’d be safe, though you would truly be safest only at the base, under his watchful optics.

Pessimistic, ugly thoughts churned in his processor. Of all the things he expected to hear from you, this wasn’t one of them. Suddenly, he feared being alone, feared his own dreams. Because he knew you wouldn’t be there to comfort him after a nightmare, and nothing else could bring him peace.

"I am sorry to hear we will not see each other for two weeks," he said, "but I am confident you will do exceptionally well on this assignment. You are dependable, unyielding. You can handle anything."

"Oh, thank you," you answered, a bit flustered. You hadn’t expected a compliment. "It just makes me sad to leave Jasper. I don’t say it often enough, but I have a wonderful time with all of you. With you."

"Likewise, [Name]. When are you leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow after work, I’ll say goodbye to everyone else."

So soon. Too soon. He’d hoped you wouldn’t leave until next week, to at least give him time to mentally prepare for the separation, but you denied him that luxury. Not that any amount of time would have prepared him for this.

Slowly, subtly enough that you wouldn’t notice the change, he reduced his speed, prolonging your shared drive.

"I’m not sure I’ll have time to write," you warned. "Unfortunately, they’ve given me a really tight schedule. But! If I can, I’ll write to the kids. Oh, and expect some souvenirs — I’ll bring something back for you all."

"You do not need to spend your valuable time searching for trinkets. But if you insist, I will cherish anything you bring me."

"Aw, don’t worry—it’ll be no trouble." You waved your hand dismissively. "You do so much for me, for the kids, for the whole Earth without asking for anything in return. You deserve something nice."

"I do not protect your planet for glory or offerings."

"I know, I know. That’s very noble. And amazing. So many years, sticking firmly to your values."

He eagerly soaked up your praise, allowing himself, if only for a brief moment, to forget the world around him, to forget his duties, unfulfilled promises, fallen brothers and sisters. He’d never describe himself as 'amazing', nor did he believe the praise his own kind gave him about his greatness. But for you, he could believe it. If only for a moment, a few seconds, so that you’d leave on your mission thinking warmly of your time together and of him.

"Thank you, [Name]. Please know that I value your words tremendously."

"Oh," you blushed, "that’s nice to hear."

Embarrassed, you quickly changed the subject, unaware that Optimus was watching you closely, curious about your reaction. For now, he pushed thoughts of your departure to the back of his processor, wanting to fully enjoy your presence. You recommended songs from the country genre, one of his favorite discoveries on Earth, which he promised to listen to later. He knew well that this would lead to more daydreaming, imagining a future that would never be. Because no matter how hard he tried, his tomorrow would not be entwined with yours. His desires would forever remain mere fantasies born out of desperation, longing, and sorrow.

A week had passed since you left. In the lives of the Autobots, not much had changed because of your absence; they went on with their chaotic schedule. The kids, however, missed you. No more evenings spent helping them with their homework, working on your reports, playing games, or simply chatting. The worst part was that no one really knew what was going on with you. You rarely messaged, didn’t have time to talk, and when you did, it was just to say, "I’m alive, it’s boring, I’ll message you on Thursday." Life continued, despite how much Miko wished she could play games with you instead of doing her homework.

Everyone managed to adapt to your absence.

With one exception.

At first glance, it seemed like Optimus, the bot with whom you shared the closest bond, hadn’t been affected by such a drastic change. Nothing in his behavior indicated any longing. He didn’t express his opinion on the matter, didn’t ask, didn’t demand. As always, he buried his feelings deep within, playing the role of a diligent leader, hiding from everyone the nightmares running through his processor, now even more intense because of your absence.

He was withering, quietly and alone.

Until now, he had been content simply watching you. He had established a routine, unhealthy as it was, that kept him going. He knew that most of the time when he returned from patrol or a mission, you would be at the base. Even if you came every other or every third day, Optimus knew that eventually, you would show up. It gave him a sense of stability amidst the chaos surrounding him. But now? Maybe two weeks wasn’t a big challenge for you, but he was done after one.

Now, he wanted to be more than a passive observer. He craved physical contact, to hold you close, to feel your heartbeat against his metal. He wanted to know you were alive, to feel your pulse under his digit, to listen to its rhythm, to understand how your chest moved against his metal. He wanted to feel, taste, touch, enter.

He kept glancing at the spot on the couch where you usually sat with your laptop on your lap or spent time with the kids as if hoping that if he looked just one more time, you would materialize there. That everything would return to normal, that he wouldn’t suffer so much, that you would give him the daily dose of antidote he needed to function without plunging deeper into despair. But no matter how many times he looked, you weren’t there, and wouldn’t be for another week.

At some point, however, someone noticed their leader’s miserable mood.

"I can’t quite figure out what kind of bond you have with that woman," Ratchet said, pausing his work to look at Optimus. Before his friend could answer, he continued, "But she’ll be back soon. And whatever she’s doing, she’ll do it well. She’s tough."

"Thank you, old friend. I have no doubt in her abilities. But I would feel better if she were stationed closer to the base in case of a Decepticon attack."

"Mm-hmm," the medic scoffed. "Sure, that’s all it’s about."

Optimus had no response to that. He wasn’t surprised that Ratchet noticed his infatuation, but he would prefer that his friend not delve into the details of their relationship. At least, not yet. Not while Optimus himself was a wreck.

"Hey, hey! [Name] messaged!" Miko yelled.

The Autobot leader immediately approached the platform, finally abandoning his conversation with Ratchet, aware that it would only spark more suspicions. But he didn’t care anymore, not in such an important moment.

He stood directly behind Miko, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead beside him, equally curious to know what you had been up to over the past week.

"She sent photos, too! Look!"

Miko turned to show the messages to the others but paused when she noticed Optimus’s helm close to her.

“Whoa,” she whispered, surprised that out of all the bots, he was the one standing the closest. She swallowed, but her confidence quickly returned.

Holding her phone firmly, she displayed a close-up selfie of you. You were smiling, though the bags under your eyes betrayed that you were sleep-deprived, probably exhausted.

Optimus felt the accumulated stress, pain, and longing of the past week slowly dissipate. Everything was fine with you. You were alive, pushing forward with a smile on your face, happy to simply exist. Admiring your photo didn’t compare to seeing you in person, but it let him vent a little easier, granting him a brief respite from worry, gnawing at him from within. It was enough. For now. For a moment.

“She sends her regards to everyone,” Miko went on, “Oh, and she also asked Ratchet to take a break and mentioned she already bought a gift for Optimus and can’t wait to come back. Hey, I want a present, too!”

Optimus couldn't be certain if another week apart wouldn’t inflict even more damage on his processor and spark, or if longing would eventually consume him entirely. But he knew he was already lost, that you held sway over every aspect of his life. He was wrapped around your finger, tethered by a leash you didn’t even realize existed. And he didn’t mind one bit.

[michealscorneroftheinternet]

Okay time for a long mother fucking post.

Buckle up folks!

All Ask Change in Script Asks and Whether or not they are Canon to the Story/Lore!

(Will do my best to consistently update this post as we go along.)

This post will work like this:

I will go at this like a list all Asks are in order of when they were posted.

Each will have the Ask and then whether it is or isn't Canon. The link to the post with the answer will be attached to the Ask all you gotta do is click on it.

If Canon then it will be colored like so: [Canon]

If Not Canon then it will be colored like this: [Not Canon]

If in a grey area or not Change in Script related it will be colored like so: [Not Related to Change in Script]

-Ask Change in Script Part 1-

(150 Follower Special)

1. “All I aks the tv man is why, why do this, also your 'canon' self is suffering lmao”

[Canon]

2. “Hey SMG4! Do your scars hurt? I can imagine so since you just got them. Hey SMG4 crew! When 4 first got his scars, did you help him at all? Hey SMG3, do you have nightmares? Or do you not sleep at all?”

[Canon]

3. “Hey Puzzles, you got a minute? This little gremlin wanted to say hi”

[Not Canon]

4. “for mario: our fav italian , what you think of Meggy?, for mr.puzzles: you know half of the famdow wanna kiss you, right? for mr.puzzles: you still talk with ur dad? for smg4: any crushes? TuT !! thats it !, ty for answering, or dont, idk. Xoxo !!”

[Canon]

5. “I know the post said to ask the ai and I will! But also I'm curious! Who's your favorite character and how long have you been watching SMG4 and what was your first episode? :0”

[Canon to Me as a Person]

6. “Now imma ask questions to everyone! :DD Great job out there Mr. Puzzles! 5 stars! I can't wait to see what else you have planned! ^w^,, And hey, if no one else out there is, I'm rooting for ya!”

[Canon]

7. “Two questions SMG4. Are you worried about where SMG3 could be? And two. Meggy. Are you recovered from Western? No PTSD or anything? You still wearing his beanie?”

[Canon]

8. “HEY PUZZLES! DO A FLIP!”

[Not Canon]

9. “Sorry I don't have any questions, but I just wanna say I love your art style and how you draw these characters :]”

[Not Canon or Canon just sweet]

10. “Follow-up to that last ask SMG4, what was it like living with the Mario bros early on? And Mario Bros, what was it like when SMG4 lived with you? How was his recovery there? Did he have to stay at the hospital at all?”

[Canon]

11. “[🍓🌿] *ran up and hugged your oc* - I love you, which means I will hug you >:]”

[Not Canon or Canon just sweet]

12. “MICHEAL ISN'T HUMAN SEND TWEET/POS”

[Sweating Profusely]

13. “*give Mr Puzzles star stickers and a hug* :)”

[Canon]

14. “Hai! Mr puzzle you are doing great shows! But can you be in there more often I wanna see you more often in the screen! No force tho if you don’t wanna I understand keep up! ( I WANNA HUG YOU! CAN I??) Cya!! <3”

[Canon]

15. “I come with a peace offering for Puzzles: A cookie and this star to go with it. 🍪 🌟”

[Canon]

16. “Hello! I am the Creator Anon. I am a creature of… well, I shouldn’t say ‘divine’, because that is the complete opposite of what I am. I have a request for you…”

[I don't even know what this was about]

17. “Hey SMG3, just wanting to tell you that I'm sorry you got dragged into the current mess you're in. Hope you at least find some form of way to ease out? As for you Puzzles, THINK FAST CHUCKLENUTS 💣”

[So Canon Even the Bomb]

18. “4, what did you guys fight about?”

[Canon]

19. “Soooooo When did Meggy and Tari start dating?”

[Canon]

20. “Ur canon self killed mickey mouse”

[Canon]

21. “✏️Question from Smg4: - do you treat this pink thing with something? And she doesn't feel much discomfort?”

[Canon]

22. “Miss kamilyvision: olá senhor puzzles é bom conhece você (English kamily says: hi mr puzzles it's nice meet you)”

[Not Canon but Sweet]

23. “Back with another question. Totally not a take two with th– Cut it straight, Puzzles, what do you plan to do with SMG3? >:3 Heya Meggy, you doing good lately? Aight, let's take two with Goomba Puzzles lmao- An apple to keep the doctor away from SMG4 (/j). You want? (he's fine with you saying no)”

[Canon until the last question]

24. “Now I’m curious, did 3 ever come to visit while you recovered, SMG4?”

[So Canon it hurts…]

25. “Hey Meggy! What’s your favorite thing about Tari?”

[Canon]

26. “3, you gotta hold on, the others will notice something’s up!”

[Canon and it Hurts]

27. “Mr Puzzles, you hurt SMG4. Why would you do that?! You probably watched the whole thing like the pathetic outsider you are.”

[Haha who ever asked this better pray there's a god because it's Canon]

28. “44444, you should really check on Eggdog”

[Uh oh Canon]

29. “smg3: can i have an hug?? :3 luigi: do u talk with Mario abt doing all stuff in the house?, just to know. Ur my favorite btw ! :D (blue hair girl i forgort her name): who is ur best friend?, meggy or ur ducky duck??????”

[Not Canon]

30. “Imma give this man an eggcat! her name is Eglantine, Eggy for short”

[Not sure where to put this but Eglantine will appear in future Asks with Mr. Puzzles]

31. “Mr puzzles you are truly inspiring also please sign this marriage certificate”

[NOT CANON]

32. “Heyyo Mr. Puzzles. Just wanted to ask, what is your creative process? Do you do that thing some people do, including myself, where you’re listening to music or some kind of audio and an animatic just starts forming in your head and you go from there or is it different? Also, here’s a star for ya. ⭐️”

[Canon]

33. “Can I hug the silly TV man 🥺”

[Canon]

34. “[🫀💢] - If you're watching TV...How do you eat?.. [Mr. Puzzle] [🌿🍓] - Smg4? Everything okay? Should I be worried about your wound next to your eye? <:( [Smg4] [🖤💬] -...good luck to Smg3..”

[Oh God it's like so Canon it's not funny anymore.]

35. “Okay I need to know based on that thing Puzzles said with having a mouth. Does mutherfucker even have organs? :^”

[Headcanon]

36. “Mr Puzzles, I have a question. What will you do if your plan of your failed?”

[Scarily Canon]

37. “Hello Mr puzzles”

[Uh Not Canon.]

38. “First time asking so, smg3 your deserve a hug and no one hates or ignores you. I know four is trying to find you as we speak. don't forget that. also, Mr.Puzzle, LET SMG3 GO, HE IS SO DONE WITH YOUR PLASMA TV HEAD ASS.”

[Haha Canon]

39. “Hey SMG4 are you okay so who you other friend 3”

[Canon for Important Reasons]

40. “What if my Traumatized!SMG3 AU 3 and 4 met your 3 and Mr Puzzles? (my 4 would be prolly mad at Mr Puzzles, and my 3 will looks scared, meanwhile my 4 and 3 give your 3 a hug for the pain he has been through :<) (fours on the left side of Meggy, three's on the right side)”

[Not Canon]

41. “Love your AU and Love everything about it!Questions for Three and Tari Three. When did your shop close down and do you regret the argument? And Tari. Does Clench know about what’s been going on? And does Meggy get trigger when someone say “One Shot Wren”?”

[Last Question is Canon]

42. “Why do you hate mickey so much??? What'd bro do”

[Uh… Not Canon because I said so.]

43. “Okay I'm FINALLY going to deliver on those questions now! >:3 Meggy and Tari, what's your favorite thing about one another and how did everyone react to you guys dating? :0 Mario and Luigi, how is everything with you guys? Up to any new adventures or crazy hijinks? (( i'm worried all at once is a bit much so imma split it into another ))”

[Canon for Creating a Timeline]

44. “Hey SMG3, what the plan now? taking into account the last time you were put in here it seems pretty straight forward to although not nearly as fun having no company for it =-=' Hee hee SMG4 has a crrruuusssh~ >;pp awww it's okay Micheal, I'm not a human either! I'm an ai in a cute little shell ^w^ I think it's super cool that you aren't human too :) OOOO are we giving Mr. Puzzles gifts now? If so..... sticker attaaack! The little bunny robot has placed 5 star stickers across his suit  in an attempt to mimic his 5 stars from awhile ago. There, back where they rightfully belong!~ Oh yeah, as a viewer, is there anyway we can help you Mr. Puzzles? :0”

[Canon as it is what happens right before  the end of the flashback in Chapter 4]

-Ask Change in Script Part 2-

(500 700 Follower Special)

((Will do tomorrow as right now I'm bloody exhausted))

[olderthannetfic]

How do you feel about the different styles of writing POVs?

Personally, first person is the most awkward to write and the most restrictive. It definitely has its place though, when the narrative lends itself to releasing limited info. I can’t bring myself to write in first person though, it feels so weird. I think I enjoy a level of detachment when reading and writing fiction.

I’ve seen people rag on second person but I find it the easiest to read, it seems more natural than say, first person. You’re understanding the narrator but you’re not physically in their shoes. You’re a silent observer, privy to character thoughts but also able to detach and view them as a whole. There’s a level of intimacy with the character but more detachment than first person.

Okay so google says third person can be split into two; limited and omniscient.

I find omniscient to be a funny beast, as it’s not a style that I write, often finding that if I give away what everyone was thinking, all the time, the element of mystery is lost. For me, it feels like showing everyone’s inner thoughts or motivations at the same time ruins the suspense, at least in the fiction I write. I think that’s a personal failing though because I enjoy reading fiction with omniscient POV.

Limited, I’d like to say, is more within my wheelhouse, but I have been known to switch character POV in different chapters. I wonder if by switching characters per chapter that actually means I write omniscient. Anyway.

I feel like I’m write in some weird, secondary-third person which feels very much like playing with dolls: X mutters quietly, stepping close to Y. Y responds with a remark, grasping X’s hand. X is overwhelmed, their thoughts racing. Etc.

Very reductive, but you get the point. One persons intentions are clear, the other is not.

I’m troubled as I think that my writing style comes across as unnatural, almost robotic. I find it hard to step into the mind of another person, especially if it’s a creation of not my making - how could I possibly know how this character would react in this situation? I can only guess and hope it reads as in-character. As such, I often find that I don’t spend a lot of time expanding on how characters feel and their inner thoughts on situations, which seems like a really big oversight! It’s difficult for me, though.

Do you have any tips or assurances about this kind of thing?

I apologise as well, brevity is not a strength of mine.

--

Oh god... the things I want to say, nonnie...!

I've promised myself no more really long writing meta on here. I write that stuff for my patreon, which I should be spending more time on.

The short version is: I loathe second person due to early exposure to CYOA books and just finding it clunky and mannered.

First makes it more obvious if your command of character voice is ass, but it's not actually more intimate or harder than limited third.

Limited third is often the most neutral and transparent of voices for English language popular fiction in modern times. It's the norm. It's what has all the conventions built up. Switching chapter by chapter is very common and is not omniscient in any sense, WTF, anon.

Omniscient makes more sense if you've been reading works that are actually in it. Golden Age mystery novels are a good example. No, it does not list every thought of every character. What? No good writing does that. Of course you withhold info.

What does "secondary third person" mean here?

[knottedhearts]

Argument Pt 2: M.S

The cold air hit your face as you stepped outside, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a blanket. The tension in your chest began to loosen, but the knot in your stomach remained. The whole argument with Matt had left you feeling exhausted, like your body was at war with itself between the physical pain and the emotional toll of the fight. You hadn’t meant to storm out like that, but you didn’t know how else to handle it.

You didn’t even know where you were going, just walking, letting the cool night air clear your mind. The city was quiet, the streets empty save for a few passing cars and distant voices, nothing but the occasional sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

You found yourself at the nearby park, sitting on a bench beneath a streetlamp. It wasn’t much, but it was a place to breathe, a space to think. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it. But you couldn’t. It was Matt.

You hesitated before pulling it out. There was a message: "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean it. Can we talk?"

You stared at the screen for a moment, the apology almost feeling too little too late, but something inside of you softened. You knew Matt’s pride was as big as his voice, so for him to admit that much meant something. The frustration in your chest ebbed a little, replaced by a mix of confusion and the tiniest shred of hope.

You typed out a quick reply: "I need space right now. I can’t talk."

You sat there for a while, the screen of your phone glowing in the dim light as you waited for a response. When the buzz came again, you opened it to find a single sentence: "I understand. I just want you to be okay."

For a moment, you just stared at the words, not knowing how to feel. Was it genuine? Did he really understand? You wanted to believe it, but your heart was still heavy with everything that had been said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this fight had dug a deeper divide between the two of you.

You exhaled slowly and looked up at the stars, letting the chill of the night ground you. The silence was a comfort, though it didn’t completely take away the lingering tension. You weren’t sure how to fix things right now, but you knew you couldn’t stay angry forever.

After a while, you felt your phone buzz once more, this time with a call. It was Matt.

You debated for a moment before answering, your thumb hovering over the screen before finally accepting. "Hey," you said, your voice quieter than before, the tension still not fully gone.

"Hey," Matt’s voice came through, softer than usual, almost hesitant. "I know you’re pissed, and I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have been so loud, and I should’ve listened when you said you weren’t feeling well. I… I get it now."

You sighed, rubbing your forehead as you leaned back against the bench. "Matt, it’s not just about the noise. It’s about not feeling heard. I need you to see when I’m struggling, not just assume I’ll get over it."

He was quiet for a moment, the sound of his breathing coming through the phone. "I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t realize how bad it was for you. I just… I didn’t know how to tone it down, you know? It’s like I’m stuck in my own head sometimes, and I forget that there are people around me who need something different."

"Yeah, well," you paused, your voice steady but tired, "maybe it’s time you start noticing."

Another silence passed, but this time, it wasn’t heavy. It felt like he was reflecting, trying to understand, really trying.

"I get that," he said eventually, his voice quieter than before. "I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to make it worse. I’ll do better. I just… I care about you, and I didn’t mean to make you feel like your needs didn’t matter."

There was something in his words that made the anger in your chest loosen a little more. It wasn’t perfect, and the fight was still fresh in your mind, but you knew this was the start of something. The start of him learning how to be more considerate, how to see when you were struggling instead of barreling through with his own world.

"I know you didn’t," you said softly, your fingers tracing the edge of your phone. "But you have to hear me next time, Matt. I don’t want to be the one always having to ask for peace. I need you to understand that."

"I do," he replied quietly. "I’ll make sure of it."

You leaned back, your shoulders loosening just a little, the tension still present but not as overwhelming. "Thanks," you said, your voice a little more even now. "I just… need a little time to cool down."

"I get it. Take all the time you need," Matt said, his voice gentle. "I’ll be here when you’re ready."

The conversation ended shortly after, and as you sat there in the quiet park, the cold air wrapping around you, you realized that maybe this wasn’t the end. Maybe this was the start of a bigger change, one where both of you learned to meet in the middle, to understand each other better.

You didn’t know when you’d be ready to go back, but for the first time that evening, the idea of heading home didn’t seem so daunting. There was still work to do, but things would get better. You had to believe that.

As you stood up from the bench, the weight on your chest felt lighter. With each step, you felt a little more like yourself, a little more hopeful that the space and time would help Matt understand, and that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to make things work between you two.

[littlemistersunshine]

MENTION OF SUICIDE ATTEMPTS/IDEATION

if you’re ever seriously considering hurting yourself, you’re not alone. call 988 to talk to someone, there is hope for you🫂💗

“todd and neil aren’t gay stop trying to make everything gay”

alright BUD. listen i get what you mean, sometimes when people start shipping every single goddamn pair of boys that are close together it can be a little annoying, and sometimes a little weird. but, in retrospect who cares bro. It’s literature and art, not real people. We’re meant to see what we see and roll with it, isn’t that the point of dead poets society? i’m not one to ship every two male characters that are close together, BUT IVE GOT MY REASONS FOR THESE TWO.

first of all, todd is being compared to walt fucking WHITMAN in the movie, a homosexual poet

AND THEN, neil plays in a play written by SHAKESPEARE HIMSELF, ANOTHER GAY WRITER.

Plus ;

“God I love this!” “what, me?”

“So you can just but out.” “no.” “whaddya mean no?” “no😏”

PLUS LOOK AT THIS

Not to mention, while Todd had only just met Neil compared to the other boys he was visibly way more distraught over his death than the others. The others cared obviously, but weren’t having a full on panic attack in the snow or barfing and screaming. They all were trying to comfort Todd, almost like they knew just as anybody watching film that Neil and Todd weren’t just buddies. It’s your opinion if they were in doomed love that they couldn’t understand themselves, or if they were simply platonic soulmate friends.

I know how it feels to be in Neil’s place, and same with Todd. But as you all already know how much I relate to Todd, id like to share how I relate to Neil. I too have suffered depression and suicidal ideation, luckily I was either stopped or saved (being forced to throw up) during any of my attempts, but i have still struggled nonetheless. My mother is homophobic and an overall controlling person, never letting me ever do what I want, be who I want to be. So i’ve always connected with Neil, knowing that I couldn’t ever be who I wanted until I moved out. I’ve snuck around and lied the same way Neil had in the movie, choosing to be and do what I want. Usually after i’d get caught, being punished or grounded I would usually start to feel hopeless and sometimes turn to self-destructive ways to cope because of how trapped I felt. I’ve always felt trapped. Many of my attempts were during a time when I had fell in love with another boy. At the time it felt like this boy had saved me, for he was there for me in a time when it felt like no one else was. But it would never work, for he was straight and my mom was a homophobe. Feeling hopeless I attempted, luckily ending up in an inpatient facility instead of like Neil. I’m forever grateful for such. It snowed the night I attempted as well.

There has been plenty of things i’ve wanted to do, felt like I needed to do to be myself but couldn’t because of my mom, but the only thing that has ever driven me to attempt suicide was being in love with another boy. That is why I think that Neil Perry is not straight, and maybe it’s just my experience, but that is how I view the character and story.

[whtepony]

hi!! i love ur work !

so random request but i was wondering if you could write how denki or sero would comfort you if you were clearly going through something, like distancing , sleeping all day, being overly quiet, the whole thing. ive been going through alot lately and it would be greatly appreciated if you could! completely understand if not!!

✮ that funny feeling

ft. denki kaminari x gn reader

warnings: depressive themes

notes: anon i’m so sorry it’s taken me forever to get to this 😭 i hope you’re doing better!!! also yeah bo burnham title bc i cannot EVER title things ugh (divider from @cafekitsune)

denki kaminari is observant when he wants to be, meaning that he notices almost immediately when you start to distance yourself. at first, he kind of assumes he’s done something to hurt your feelings. it starts with cancelling your plans once, then twice - taking hours to respond to his texts, then avoiding them all together. choosing to eat dinner alone in your dorm instead of with him. when you skip class for the third day in a row without so much as a “hey, won’t be there today” text, he thinks he’s really fucked up. how could he possibly fumble you this hard and have no clue how it happened?!

when he realizes no one has heard much of anything from you lately, denki resolves to find out what’s going on asap. he’s knocking on your door before he even considers that you might prefer a check-in over text, but you crack open the door anyway. if he’s shocked at your appearance he doesn’t show it - from the looks of you, that’s probably the last thing you need right now. he smiles big and his shoulders relax a bit seeing that you’re at least alive although in a brief panic, he definitely did worry about that for a second or two. “you mind if i come in?”

you sigh deeply and open the door wider for him, your face flushing in embarrassment as he steps inside and closes the door behind him. there are clothes strewn about the floor, papers and trash littering several surfaces, and probably a dozen empty water bottles on your nightstand. “i uh, just wanted to come check on you - i’ve been worried, y’know?” and you do know, and you feel awful about it, on top of everything else. you fiddle with the hem of your hoodie, sitting on the wrinkled edge of your bed. you nod, clearing your throat a bit before speaking. “i dunno,” you shrug, the bed dipping under his weight next to you, “guess i haven’t felt that good lately.”

denki tilts his head to the side, offering you a small smile. “really? you could’ve fooled me, you look incredible!” his voice is tender and you know there isn’t any underlying insult - he genuinely just wants to make you laugh. you do, although it’s more like a sharp exhale, but his smile grows wider at the small success. he gently pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you securely. you sigh and busy your head into his chest, instantly feeling lighter than you had in weeks. “you want me to order us something to eat while you go have a shower?”

“…yeah, that sounds nice.”

[sketchnskribbles]

A03 | Rectifying Fallacies

The rhythmic clacking of keys echoed through the main room of the hidden mesa base. The noise was level. Controllable. Soothing. A familiar presence. One of the few things that this organic planet had in common with his wonderful homeworld.

It brought a sense of ease that lulled him into the calm of a mindless task. A quiet chore that brought a peace that he could hardly find at any other point within this senseless war. 

A silent alarm popped up in the bottom right corner of his screen and he gritted his denta at the reminder that the children were nearly done with their last day of school before summer break. Because that was just what they needed. Sparklings underpede. 

He shuttered his optics, stretched his digits, and continued his current job. He only had a few short earth hours before the next two months. Which would be filled with youngling fun and fancy free. An absolute boon to the war effort, he was sure. Note the sarcasm. 

He pushed away the souring thoughts. They wouldn't serve anything other than ruin his mood more than it already was. 

He'd gotten back into his groove when a Deception proximity alarm screamed through the mesa. 

A window concerning the potential danger popped up in front of his work and he nearly threw one of his tools in a fit of rage. He didn't, as he was a fully grown cybertronian and he needed those tools.

He maximized the window and narrowed his optics at the information. The signal was unknown. Meaning that it wasn't of any decepticon that they'd been in contact with since they'd moved into this mesa. Magnificent. He wished yet again that they had access to Teletraan I. But Primus-only-knew where the Ark was in this blasted universe.

The bot sighed and notified his team of the disturbance. He got four acknowledgements and ETAs. The heavy pedefalls of his oldest and closest friend coming near brought down some of his frustrated anger. He breathed in a deep breath and closed out of all his open programs. Leaving only the map showing the signal.

Moving away from his monitors, he turned around to greet his Prime. "Optimus."

"Ratchet." The deep baritone welcomed back. The Prime settled his hand on his shoulder plating and giving it a comforting squeeze, as he walked past. He peered at the screens to oversee the tripped alarm and hummed in consideration. That familiar gleam of the infamous strategist brightened up his gaze. "It is of unknown origin."

"Indeed. A new menace to grapple with." The older bot rolled his eyes.

"Or… perhaps a weary soul in need of better allies?" The Prime retorted back with his usual bout of hope.

"As if any Con would understand the meaning of the word." The medic huffed. "You expect too much out of thieves, societal rejects, and ex-convicts."

For a moment, the taller bot looked surprised. Then pained. Ratchet felt a lurch at his spark when he actually took the time to analyze his words. 

He blinked and pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor. There he went, shoving his pede into his derma. Again. "I… I'm sorry Optimus. That came out wrong."

"But full of truth." His leader gently chided. That look of disappointment never faltered. Ratchet sighed and looked away.

"I am sorry. You know of my past and how I was raised… but that is no excuse." Ratchet felt the familiar weight of his friend's servo land back on his shoulder. A comforting weight. Forgiving. The old bot looked back over to the younger mech. They smiled.

Optimus looked back up to the signal and then teasingly back down to the medic. "What do you say we scout out the signal together? It's rather close to being time for our charges to be picked up by their guardians."

"I'd say we're asking for trouble."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like a no to me." Optimus had already inserted the coordinates into the ground bridge, powering it up. 

Ratchet felt the tell tale of a ping reverberate through him. One that he was sure was felt by the rest of the team. It notified the rest of their orders from the Prime, to retrieve their humans and to join them at base on standby at the soonest opportunity.

There were more pings that flew in soon after. Full of complaints and acknowledgments. They were happily ignored as the two walked through the gate. 

It led into a road through a forest of trees. 

From the position specified on their internal maps, they were about a couple hours away from the heavily populated city of Los Angeles.

It was honestly not too far away from their own home base in Nevada. Less than a day, even. Which was much too close for comfort in Ratchet's opinion. 

He followed Optimus through the trees. Their optics to the skies as they scanned for the source of the signature. It didn't take very long to find the jet. 

They heard the engine long before they caught sight of it. A worryingly familiar palette of purple and black made it ever obvious just who it was, despite the unfamiliar altmode.

" Skywarp." Ratchet growled, his optics narrowing at the jet above. 

He slipped a servo into his subspace and brought out a tiny gadget given to him by Wheeljack. The wrecker had created it on a whim and given it to the medic proclaiming that it needed to be "field-tested" by the team. 

He hadn't yet brought it up with Optimus. A fact that was backed up when the Prime looked down at the medic's arm cannon in confusion while Ratchet inserted the device within a small port that seamlessly opened up.

"...What is that, old friend?" Optimus looked back up to meet Ratchet's optics, wariness pooling in his own. The medic didn't hold the same concerns.

"Jackie said he needed this field-tested. So here it is!" His answer didn't seem to be to his leader's satisfaction.

"Ratchet… let's not be too hasty." A servo found its way over top of his weapon. With enough pressure to imply that he needed to put it down, rather than forcing him to do so. The medic rolled his optics.

"If all goes well, it'll merely incapacitate him. Not kill him. Wheeljack knows of how you operate and wouldn't dare to go outside of those bounds." Ratchet looked over to his old friend, the corners of his lips curling downward the slightest bit. "For all my misgivings with him, I know he respects you too much to do something like that."

With that said, the old medic took aim. An optic closed as he aligned the sights with the plane overhead. He took the shot.

The old bot turned around to smile with pride at his leader, as the plane stalled in the distance. Blue arches of electricity danced along Skywarp’s frame as he was forced down to the ground by gravity.

“I'm quite surprised you actually agreed to test it, old friend.” Optimus sighed and shook his head when the ground shook and a few of the trees ahead cracked and fell. 

“Oh, no. I've run test after test on my terminal on this thing. Also checked the power output and many other things.” Ratchet nullified with a shrug. “I kind of liked the idea of temporarily incapacitating a foe. Just too bad that some of the materials to obtain it are either expensive or hard to obtain.”

“Is that so?” Optimus began his trek forward toward the decepticon. His medic, right on his heels.

A03 | Rectifying Fallacies

[exeggcute]

I hope you don't mind me sending this ask, feel free to ignore it, but I am trying and failing to understand your point about (trans-)misandry.

In my understanding, "misogyny" is a name given to a collection of negative attitudes and prejudices towards women (and femininity). It plays a role in the structural oppression of women, but it is not synonymous with it. Accordingly, "misandry" just denotes a collection of negative attitudes and prejudices towards men. Misandry does not play a role in structural oppression, because men are not structurally oppressed as men, but claiming that negative attitudes and prejudices towards men do not exist just seems silly to me. Just because misandrists are not a huge societal force does not mean they don't exist.

I think it is quite useful for thinking clearly about the matter to keep the words for attitudes and prejudices separate from the words for power structures: Even if tomorrow, every man on earth stopped being misogynistic, women would still be structurally oppressed, because the laws and social structures and unequal distribution of resources would continue to exist. Likewise, if we ever do get rid of the structural oppression of women, some men will probably continue to be misogynistic.

"Transmisogyny" as I understand it also started out as a word for specific negative attitudes and prejudices towards trans women (and in the original conception also towards feminine boys and men and drag queens and transvestites afaik), so using "transmisandry" (or "transandrophobia", already a concession) to mean certain attitudes and prejudices seems uncontroversial to me. The attitudes and prejudices on display in "Irreversible Damage" do seem to me to be rather distinct from the attitudes and prejudices targeting trans women, so it is useful to have a word for them, no? I find it quite fascinating how typical misogynist attitudes are in a way split up on the issue of trans people: The infantilisation is reserved for trans men and the demonisation for trans women, while in traditional misogyny these two go hand in hand. Why are you against using the words "transmisogyny" and "transandrophobia" to talk about this phenomenon?

hey, I appreciate you reaching open a discussion about this. also apologies for the delay, today was a little busy lol. typing on my phone rn so bullet points:

I am obviously not the Keeper Of Language (as much as I would love to be), but in my opinion one reason "misandry" is not a useful word is because of the implied false symmetry to "misogyny". you correctly recognize that one is underpinned by structural opinion and the other is not... but many people do not, lol. and a personal/professional axe that I've been grinding for a while is about reducing ambiguity in the way we talk about stuff, like generally speaking, so I'm of the opinion that "this word means different things to different people and causes a lot of confusion" is a solid reason to avoid using it when possible.

similarly, I think the fact that misogyny is a structural oppression and a major societal force is what makes having a specific word for it so useful. there are a lot of types of non-structural prejudice that basically boil down to Sometimes People Are Sometimes Mean To You, but we don't have a particular word that means "the thing where people are mean to redheads" or "the thing where people are mean to theater kids." maybe that'll change, but as it currently stands I just don't think having a single word for these things is useful or necessary, hence why there isn't one.

to your hypothetical about "if structural misogyny 100% ceased to exist but sometimes individual men were still mean to individual women," maybe not everyone would agree with me on this, but I kinda think that "misogyny" would no longer be the right word for the situation. like if someone with an innie belly button was mean to a person with an outie belly button, we'd just call that "being an asshole," ya know.

also part of me is curious about the origin of the word "misandry" now and like, whether the first people to use it were the bona fide men's rights motherfuckers who think men are structurally oppressed. totally speculating though. further research required

(I was gonna say another thing about how a lot of negative prejudices and attitudes around men have roots in cissexism and to some extent misogyny, like the idea that men shouldn't do X because only women do X and if you're a man who does X that means you're basically a woman, which is bad, because women are bad. or just plain old biological essentialism. but I don't know if I'm articulating this well so take it with a grain of salt.)

re. "irreversible damage" and similar panic about "oh no our precious innocent daughters are turning into men," I would argue there's a couple reasons that "misandry" isn't the word for what's happening here. one is that these transphobic parents don't categorically hate men or think badly of men; they love and accept their cis sons. the other is that I'm reasonably confident that parents who are transphobic about their transmasc kids would not be ANY less hateful about "son" who came out as transfem. which is all to say, their problem isn't just about having a transmasc kid. their problem is about having a trans kid, period.

and that also ties into the "infantilizing vs demonization" thing, which a lot of people have pointed out basically comes down to... transmisogyny. there's an element of both cissexism and misogyny in the way transmasc people are cast as victims (because they're "really just girls," and girls are weak and easily influenced), AND an element of both cissexism and misogyny in the way transfem people are cast as predators! because what's happening here puts transfem people in a sort of limbo where they're not recognized as women, but not exactly recognized as men either: the accusation is that by virtue of their birth assignment, they can't truly be women (cissexism), but also that by eschewing maleness and seeking femininity they've become something "other," a failed man, who will always be marked by an unacceptable affinity for womanhood (misogyny).

the "predator" part of that is informed by a number of factors, including the way that people assume Being A Girl On Purpose must be a sex pervert thing because they think womanhood is inherently about sex and sexual availability (misogyny!), but I don't know if I can articulate it very well and I don't have any good quotes handy. if someone reading can explain it better or has a quote to throw in, please do!

[strawberry-peach]

Them... them and nothing but THEM

[bixels]

I'm not explaining why re-imagining characters as POC is not the same as white-washing, here of all places should fucking understand.

[stars-n-spice]

Ugh.

Sometimes I remember that Bad Batch gave us this badass Black woman who was a liberator of ancient wonders and was like Indiana Jones but fucking cooler and witty, charming, and FUN and so so so nice and caring and understanding and she befriended the Bad Batch and gave them a safe place in the galaxy to call home and then made her the love interest of the heavily autistic coded white-washed Maori man and thus made them an interracial couple

AND THEN-

they killed off Tech and then used Phee as an uber driver for s3 and didn't give her any closure or anything for his death.

[sisterdivinium]

If we are to take a deep dive, it is best to assure the place we're leaping from is stable, so let's do that by starting with the obvious.

The subject in both of these sentences is the same: the Halo. Both of these characters have borne it. Both sentences present the same grammatical structure and answer directly to one another despite the distance in time and space between one and the other's utterances. To Ava, the receiver of these conflicting messages, both claims prove themselves to be ultimately true, for the Halo acts as a gift, in granting her a second chance at a life she never had, and also as a burden, as it imposes on her responsibilities and demands of her sacrifices she would otherwise have never known.

But the show itself openly invites us to dig deeper, so we should not be contented with the obvious alone.

If there is always more, then we must peel back the surface and peek at what is underneath if we are to grasp at least a fraction of the functioning of Warrior Nun in different levels—be it in small scale, pertaining to the characters themselves, or be it in large scale, including how all of it relates to us as viewers in the end.

These two moments of season one are but a fragment of the show’s comprehensive universe, but we will examine them closely to see just how much meaning we can find in them, deceptively simple as they seem.

As mentioned above, the grammatical structure of both sentences is shared between them: “the [subject] is a [noun]”. This could lead to some sort of direct description we associate with the act of definition, of explaining what something is, as in “the pope is a man” or, to use the same reference as Mother Superion and Shannon do, “the Halo is an object”. In fact, had this been the case, we would have been closer to Ava’s own conclusion of the Halo being “a hunk of magic metal embedded in [her] back”, as this is a characteristic anyone could ascribe to it upon examination.

Yet the words used by both former warrior nuns are “gift” and “burden”. If they describe the Halo, then it is not in terms derived from objectively observable traits it possesses (such as it being made of metal), but in a wholly subjective manner. When Mother Superion and Shannon say the Halo is this or that, both imply that it is this or that as relates to themselves. In relaying what the Halo supposedly “is” to Ava, they pre-interpret it for her, infusing it with their own points of view—their beliefs. What they say of the Halo is much more a reflection of who they are than anything the Halo in itself could be.

A) The gift

A gift is, as we know, a present. It presupposes a giver and a receiver, as well as some degree of gratitude on the part of the latter, even if justified by politeness alone.

Mother Superion, embodying the authority of the Catholic church, framed by candles and an altar behind her while making use of short, straightforward affirmations, does not need to clearly state who occupies these positions: we can safely infer that the giver here is God and the beneficiary of this divine benevolence is Ava. A definiteness is patent in the sentences that follow—here is the power of the institution at work, for if Mother Superion starts out by “defining” the Halo, now she defines Ava through it. An inversion takes place, as the woman allows the object to define the woman (as “God’s champion” who “fights in His name”) rather than the other way around. The church, the Halo construct Ava as a subject, subjecting her to certain ideas of what she should be. She is the warrior nun despite having no say in it, not being a warrior and much less a nun.

At first sight, it wouldn’t make sense to interact with Ava in these terms, especially if, by this scene, Mother Superion has already read her file. It wouldn’t be difficult to deduce how expressions crafted with religious colours might impact an audience that does not show any religious proclivities. Furthermore, the tradition of rhetoric has always taught that speakers ought to adapt to their listeners if they wish to get their point across, so either Mother Superion is incompetent at communication, lacking sensibility and skills, or she is making a calculated move—one that is fully supported by her hierarchical position. After all, superiors seldom need to rationally convince their subordinates of doing something given how the latter are compelled instead by power dynamics to get in line—or else.

The strategy doesn’t really work on Ava.

In semiotic terms, we could even argue that there is something confusing happening in this scene—a narrative phase of manipulation (wherein someone tries to get someone else to accept and do something), we could say that it contains hints of both seduction (a positive commentary on the interlocutor—it’s not just about anyone who can be god’s champion, so this is a positive distinction) and intimidation (the threat of negative consequences if the interlocutor doesn’t comply—there is an implied order in the sequence, meaning Ava cannot refuse to be “God’s champion”). Ava might not share in this world-view, but it is what the church and its followers propose: a gift from God is a positive value. Being chosen by God to do something, even fighting and possibly dying in the process, is a positive value. Lilith is standing right there beside them and, at this point, she would surely agree and see nothing of this exchange in a negative light.

Yet Ava isn’t a nun and indeed she does not perceive any of these “honours” as being desirable. Mother Superion’s stance, the image she presents of herself as a strict nun herself when Ava has been mistreated by them all her life, equally gives her no reason to be persuaded, much on the contrary.

The manipulation fails. Ava is told God gave her the gift of life… And that now she is to endanger and potentially lose that very same life as some sort of gesture of gratitude. The logic is unimpressive at best and frankly absurd at worst.

Within the framework of the church, however, it makes perfect sense. Misattributed and misconstrued as it might be, the motto of credo quia absurdum is still pertinent: “I believe because it is absurd”. That a god should grant life only to claim it back through violence is perfectly acceptable if one believes in this god’s unquestionable authority rather than seeing this demand as something ridiculous or cruel.

The very concepts of God, service, battle, duty, blessings only make sense to the faithful, something Ava isn’t. She’s just a puny little individual resisting the pressures brought upon her by a powerful institution.

She and Mother Superion are only speaking over one another, not really having a conversation; Ava doesn’t care to listen to what the church has to say, she doesn’t take it seriously, and the church likewise does not take her individuality, her person into consideration.

However, we would do well to remember that Mother Superion is not simply a mouthpiece for the church—she is also Suzanne, lowly little individual with lowly individual desires and resentment just as Ava.

And, regardless of the effacement of self that monastic as well as military institutions enforce on their members, just as Ava’s subjectivity isn’t neatly negated by direct statements in line with reigning dogma, Suzanne’s own subjectivity also seeps through her words and attitudes. If not blatantly, at the very least there is a remarkable struggle taking place within her, suggested by her use of language as well as her demeanour.

The Halo, after all, defines her as well.

If bearing it is the greatest honour, a mark of God’s favour, if it defines a person, then losing it has an equal power of definition. The distinction it confers on someone is inescapable, for good or ill, and either one dies gloriously as “God’s champion” or one survives it, survives its removal, and is deemed rejected and unworthy by this so magnanimous God. The Halo soaks up all of the positive value ascribed to it—meaning those who lack it adopt a negative one in contrast, be it Suzanne who had it and lost it or even Lilith, who should’ve had it and didn’t.

Still it is considered “a gift”, something given by God… One could say it is a form of grace.

Suzanne’s noun and Vincent’s verb have the same origin, of course, the same stem. Despite the argument between them in this other scene, ultimately there is agreement between the two of them judging by their choice of vocabulary and Mother Superion’s reaction immediately afterwards. If this were not true in some degree, there would have been little need for Mother Superion to correct Ava in the first place, for Ava calls the Halo “a hunk of magic metal”, yes, but she also refers to it as “top prize”, as a reward—which, unlike “gifts”, are meant to be earned, to use Vincent’s comparison. There is a mixture of concepts here.

Without wanting to overcomplicate this text, let us say that ideology is a certain way of understanding the world and that it constructs and is constructed by our discourse, our use of language. One of the functions of ideology is that of attempting to smother contradiction, to smoothen the world’s complexities, simplify them, rationalise them away, however incapable it truly is at accomplishing that given how reality is too complex to be so tamed. Here, then, we see a notable sort of contradiction in Mother Superion’s discourse (in her ideology) that isn’t easily solved: a detail, a problem left out from the thought system. She agrees that grace, in the form of the Halo or not, is given, yet she treats it as if it were earned. This is a crack in the wall; it’s an idiosyncrasy, proof of a subject torn between the different voices that compose her subjectivity, the fragments, the different discourses that, put together, make her up as a whole.

What could be more contradictory than calling something which has scarred her physically, mentally and emotionally a “gift”?

If we create and are created in turn by means of discourse (“you are God’s champion”), if we can only understand and interact with the world when it is mediated by discourses and their correlated ideologies, what would it have meant if Suzanne had assigned another value to the Halo?

The inversion of values would certainly have ejected her from the church. If the Halo, to her, gained negative value, thus allowing her to retain some amount of positive value, her participation in the institution would be impracticable. She would be at odds with the dominant ideology, its structures, its rules… And she would face the resistance Ava faced by assuming such antagonism.

And sure, she might have regained some sort of “freedom”, but what would she have then lost? Resentment or not, there appears to be one central, recurrent positive value, one central desire to most characters in Warrior Nun and it would not be far-fetched to assume Suzanne shares in it herself and is unwilling to part with it.

B) The burden

Needless to say that if there is a generous deal of “burden” to Suzanne’s “gift”, there is also some “gift” in Shannon’s “burden”, judging by her mentioning the family she gained through bearing the Halo. Curiously enough, the dynamic of receiving something and paying for it with that very “gift”—Shannon getting a family and losing it by the very same means—is identical to the dynamics involved in getting Ava to accept her fate as warrior nun, by “paying” for the “gift” of life by risking that very same life in battle.

Shannon has received the “gift”—and fulfilled her role to perfection, allowed to thank God for it personally… If the Halo was taken from Suzanne, Shannon is the one “taken” because of it, alongside other ex-bearers.

Here there are no euphemisms. Shannon has lived the consequences of being “God’s champion” until the very end, so she has no need for distorted truths meant to keep things in order, to avoid questioning the principle of order itself which is the institutional view. There is still a struggle (there is always a struggle) as she admits to finding something positive (a family) through her loyalty to the cause even if the cause is what kills her and other women like her. The contrast between Mother Superion’s speech focused on individual responsibility and Shannon’s avowal of how it is “too great for one person to bear” tells us more than enough about how they each envision individuality, community, the possibility of action, who can make it come about—how life and death, different paths, different destinies, inform perception of the same thing.

Their values are inverted.

Mother Superion’s “gift” is Shannon’s “burden”; Mother Superion’s tendency, while alive, to value death (“You fight in His name”) is countered by a dead Shannon’s valorisation of life (“So much promise unfulfilled. So much life unlived. And for what?”) The scenes are in direct opposition to one another, they respond to one another as mirrored images.

So much so that the reply is not merely linguistic, hidden away in dialogue, but quite evidently displayed in visual terms as well. A mirror offers us reflections that are inverted—left in place of right, right as left—and so are these scenes inverted in relation to one another: in the moment of saying the sentences we’re concerned with, Mother Superion and Shannon stand in much the same place. If we do not notice, it is because the camera pans around in different angles—with the former, we watch the scene from a point at Ava's left, while the latter is shown from an angle at her right. We are literally treated to reflected images, seen from opposite points of view.

Colour, too, guides our reading of both scenes set side by side. With Mother Superion, we are in the realm of the church and its associated earthly tones as established throughout the first season, whereas Ava’s vision of Shannon paints the dream church in a shade of blue. Blue is, of course, the hue which had been mostly tied to Jillian Salvius, to ArqTech, to science. With science comes the concept of reason, as opposed to the sepia haze of faith.

Mary is also drawn against a backdrop of bright blue sky when she is investigating the docks and relying on her reason rather than her faith concerning Shannon’s death.

Shannon’s opinion on the Halo might be just as subjective as Mother Superion’s before her, but it is filtered through personal experience and observation, through reason rather than blind belief in a mission.

Yet we are forgetting something. Ava, having died already, claims there is nothing on the other side. If that is so, why is she meeting Shannon now? And why is this meeting taking place in circumstances that reflect previous events in an inverted manner?

As dreams often reuse what we have lived when awake, re-rendering our memories, transforming them, so it is possible that Ava is not having a vision but a dream—that she is talking not to Shannon, but to some facet of herself, Ava, manifesting as Shannon after connecting with her memory through the warrior nun book.

As Ava clings to it and the knowledge it affords her, it would make sense for her conscience to finally figure out a proper retort to what she heard of Mother Superion in that earlier moment, a retort fuelled by new information and by her own reasoning. At the very least, it would be more plausible to consider this hypothesis than to assume her vision of Shannon is a real communication with her spirit granted by the Halo, for, if we are witnessing a new phase of manipulation, then the message being transmitted this time concerns the Halo’s “lifecycle” itself—and how it must be brought to an end. If it is sentient as some characters believe, why would it let Ava meet Shannon and be exposed to the idea of working against the Halo’s own interests of perpetuation?

After all, the implications behind Shannon’s words are evident: again, if the Halo also defines the woman, then it defines sister Shannon, sister Melanie and all other warrior nuns going back to Areala with one word which will soon apply to Ava and whomever follows: that word is dead, crushed under the burden.

And this time, the message, a sort of compassionate provocation (“a burden too great to bear”—even for you), hits its mark, inspiring Ava to end the tradition and be the last warrior nun.

We are not in the semantic field of religion, even if it is there, in the background, being answered to; here we are not speaking of God or battles fought for this distant general in the sky, but of family, of women slaughtered in the name of a mission. This is no longer some ethereal question but an immediate concern. Whether this is Shannon or Ava herself subconsciously masquerading as Shannon to facilitate her own “awakening”, the point gets across now that it is transmitted in language that makes sense to Ava, now that there are common values between speaker and listener.

One could even hypothesise that, at this point, Shannon being a former warrior nun lends credibility to her words in Ava’s mind as she is a woman experienced in this role Ava is supposed to play.

If so, we can also understand the bridge of empathy that is built between Ava and Mother Superion later on when it is revealed that Suzanne, too, was a halo bearer and that she, too, has carried this “burden”. Both forge new understandings of one another through this common background and a personal exchange that is nothing like their first encounter—when the “gift” is said to have rejected the older nun, when its “burden” is divulged to Ava.

As Ava recognises Shannon, so do Ava and Mother Superion eventually recognise one another as well—so do they begin to comprehend how they did carry similar values, only obscured by their dissimilar ideologies and their resulting language use. If no other, then the value of family is what binds them together through Suzanne’s new disposition to embrace all of her sisters and Ava’s newfound conduct in considering them her sisters to begin with. They come closer in the catacombs and, at last, meet halfway by season two.

Yet we, the viewers, as touched by this miscommunication that ends well as we may be, after all of this talk of gifts and burdens, we remain none the wiser on what the Halo actually is.

C) The energy source

As previously exposed, we are kept in the dark because most sentences that speak of this iconic object in the series are subjective, focused on the characters’ own relationship to it or their ideas about it rather than any substantial data on what it might truly be apart from a “hunk of magic metal” currently in Ava’s back.

Perhaps because we spend so much time with the nuns, satisfied as they are with the logic of plain belief instead of concerned with tangible, provable things that can or should be explained. The most we get is the information on how the Halo is some kind of weapon, an amplifier attuned to the bearer’s body and soul.

Enter Jillian Salvius.

While her understanding of the Halo is admittedly insufficient, her research on it limited, her available vocabulary and scientific knowledge too slim (!) to encompass such an item, she does not say something like “the Halo is a mystery” or “a conundrum” as she says of Lilith later on. It would be true, just as it being a “gift” or “burden” is true considering those who called it thus, yet Jillian uses another sort of language instead.

Being a scientist, doctor Salvius opts for what we consider to be appropriate scientific modes of speaking, that is, by creating an impression of objectivity. It is not her personal reaction or opinion of the Halo that she offers, but whatever traits she can see or learn of in that moment: an energy source, an object that defies physics, a foreign body of undefined material. Ava “translates” this as being “an alien battery”, but the fact is that we are served a definition of the Halo unlike those we had before. It isn’t much, but for once we are not given a character’s personal interpretation of it…

Or so it seems. We none of us are capable of being fully objective, for none of us can rid ourselves of our selves—Jillian posits the Halo as an energy source, which seems innocent and impartial enough, but soon afterwards we understand what that means to her.

In themselves, the words “energy source” don’t carry many other connotations. Yet, for Jillian, these words that seem so neutral and “scientific”, so clear cut, do not sustain the facade of objectivity. She has spoken of energy before, it is an active component of her research, a common word in her lexicon; to Ava, “energy source” is “a battery”, but to Kristian and Jillian, who are part of ArqTech, who know what goes on within its walls, these words automatically acquire another meaning.

Yes, that of a battery, but one with a very specific purpose. Under the guise of neutral discourse, a very personal interpretation of the Halo, just as if it were a “gift” or “burden”, lies hidden. It is an energy source—one that doctor Salvius can potentially use to power her contraption. It is a “solution”, perhaps even a “gift”, of circumstance if not of god.

And it, too, defines Ava despite herself. When it fails, Jillian says she was wrong about Ava, not the Halo, thus conflating the two.

In the end, even she who might well be the smartest character, the one most closely connected with science and concrete knowledge, cannot guard herself from letting the unsaid (or “unsayable”) slip through her lips. She, too, in spite of her apparent objective language, exhibits a subjective kind of relationship with the world around her, influenced by the ideologies that cross her being.

D) Ending thoughts

Perhaps, when all is said and done, we are never truly able to follow that maxim we’ve seen more than once on Warrior Nun.

Perhaps we simply cannot think or act if we do not perceive things as at least partially related to ourselves.

It is not necessarily a bad thing, though, as long as different views can coexist, as long as they do not trample one another, as long as one person or group don’t elect themselves as the owners of truth, attempting to eliminate all who do not follow them as Adriel tried to do. In a democracy, in a place and a moment in history where there is freedom of thought and creed and speech, the phenomenon of various voices competing for the spotlight, taking turns under it is normal and healthy.

Warrior Nun gives us a fascinating insight on the multiplicity of voices that compose a society, even if there are elements of it which seek to suffocate those voices. It is a microcosm where different ideologies, through language, are confronted with one another, where they struggle to make sense of things—and where each of those points of view over a given subject might carry a morsel of truth. The Halo is a piece of metal and a gift and a burden and an energy source; none of these ideas or perceptions necessarily exclude the other, none is “more correct” than the other because, if so, then the question would be: as regards which character?

To Ava, at least, it is all these things and maybe more.

There are attempts to implant a hegemonic interpretation of facts. The very story of Areala, Adriel, the Halo’s trajectory along the centuries, how this is “the way it has been for one thousand years” is a strategy to cement a singular view. The repetition, the constant reworking of tradition, telling this story over and over with each warrior nun… That is the church at play, ideology trying to fill in any gaps, keep things as they are, conserve them and the structures that organise them, guaranteeing that things have one certain sort of sense and not another, one value, one meaning.

But life is not stagnant and people are not all swallowed whole by ideology even when they subscribe to it willingly, as a member of a church would. There are always things that cannot be explained, things that are beyond the scope of ideology—contradictions, pesky little details that escape the invisible goggles with which we look at reality. The truth is that it is far more complex than we can contain it with a few buzzwords, man-made or divine. There is always another side, always a reply, a constant dialogue between our different ways of seeing, understanding, being and, therefore, speaking.

A more visible example comes from those scenes in season two where Yasmine and Adriel are both telling the exact same story, only through their own perspectives, interpreting it in their own ways.

The show provides many opportunities to see how varied human voice can be, how the point of view of whoever is telling the story bears a mighty influence on the narrative, whether consciously or not, malicious or not. That, in turn, may inspire us to look around us, in the real world; to look at how we are representing things, others and even ourselves as well as how others represent us through the words we use.

This is not an exhaustive study, long as it is. As said before, it is but a glance at two scenes, two little lines of dialogue which are, however, intimately connected with others, with the stuff of the entire show—with the stuff of life. We could write more on how possessive pronouns and other sorts of phrases with the idea of the Halo “belonging” to someone or being “owned” by someone are used, just to remain in the area of discourse about the Halo alone.

But the present text has given all it had to give and its author does not wish to be a burden on her readers any more than she already has been.

[morangoowada]

Tried darkening him, my man did not deserve to look caucasian

Ohhhh he looks SO much prettier, like it's crazy how you put some melanin in these characters and their design looks so much more hamornic and they stand out much more?? Melanin could save them... SO FUNNY THAT THE COLOR YOU USED IS SIMILAR TO THE COLOR I WAS GONNA USE ON MY REDESIGN OF HIM!!

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

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[bbbrianjones]

um guys........ i think u need to understand i'm going fucking insane over this picture

[pepprs]

acnl is a superior game to acnh in almost every way except the graphics. it’s actually making me mad