#i'll follow every impulse without question

[skulcrusherlulu]

Luffy’s Confusing Freedom

So when it comes to Luffy's concepts of freedom, I’d like to say I don’t disagree with all aspects of it. I think overall when we look at the world through Luffy's viewpoint, we see a world where he wants freedom and choice for all, unbound by destiny or fate or whatever providential hand that may rule over the One Piece world. Which again, I agree with. And I think Luffy’s concept of absolute freedom is inspiring, but it also has flaws and contradictions that raise serious concerns, at least for me

To start off, I'll explain what I believe Luffy's concept of freedom is, and I hope someone will correct me if I'm wrong. I think Luffy's concept of freedom is the ability to live without constraints, to follow your desires, and to reject authority or imposed rules on oneself. He sees freedom as the ability to act according to your will, without concern for societal expectations, laws, or hierarchical control. To him, being the Pirate King is that. It means being the freest person on the seas, not one who rules over others, but one who answers to no one. He champions individual choice, fights against oppression, and refuses to be controlled, whether by governments, warlords, or fate itself.

My issue is that his version of freedom is deeply personal and individual and often enacted impulsively. He seeks immediate action without thinking of future consequences. His sense of adventure and self determination is inspiring, yes, but his philosophy sometimes disregards responsibility, strategy, and the impact his choices have on those around him. I think Luffy benefits from the fact that every rushed and impulsive choice he makes turns out positively (benefits of being the protag I suppose) but I can't help but think if I met someone like Luffy IRL, I would be deeply turned off from their personality. 

A few examples of where Luffy's concepts of freedom really seemed contradictory to me, is how he treats his allies. Luffy is a champion of not being bound by fate or destiny, and letting people make their own choices, but it seems like this concept does not apply to every person and every situation. For example, he was willing to let Usopp leave the crew, since that's the choice he made, but was risking his life and the lives of others to save Robin and Sanji when they left. One can say it's because Robin and Sanji were coerced to leave and did not make that choice truly of their own will. But we know Luffy to be a deeply insightful person, able to see what someone is truly feeling, when they mask their emotions, and what their true message and intent is. Could he not see that with Usopp? Could he not see that Usopp was not leaving because he WANTED to leave, but because of his inadequacies and his feeling of unimportance in the crew? 

It raises the question of whether Luffy's concepts of freedom, particularly the freedom of choice, is applied selectively. Does he truly respect individual choice, or does he only fight for freedom when it aligns with his own perspective? His ability to perceive when someone is suppressing their true emotions is evident in moments like when Sanji left, where he knew he didn’t truly want to leave, yet he seemingly failed to apply the same level of understanding to Usopp. If he were truly consistent in his philosophy, wouldn't he have fought just as hard to make Usopp stay, knowing his departure stemmed from insecurity rather than genuine desire? Or even have left Robin and Sanji to the choice they made, and not interfere despite if they were coerced or not? And we KNOW he can see someone's true feelings and intent, we see this in Water 7/Enies Lobby, because he KNEW Franky wanted to join and sail with the Strawhats, but he didn't leave Franky alone when he said no multiple times. He was consistent, determined to have him join. Why didn't he leave Franky alone after he made his choice?

This inconsistency means to me that Luffy's sense of freedom isn't entirely about allowing others to make their own choices, regardless of the conscience or coercion that person may be facing. It's about what he personally feels is the right course of action. His vision of freedom is not concrete or set in stone, but everchanging and entirely filtered through the lens of his emotions. Still, to this day, I don't know why he failed to uphold his own morals when he let Usopp leave, and I think it was in this moment where I started noticing his inconsistencies in his beliefs, and that it wasn't freedom that governed him, but something else (something that I believe fits him much more than freedom does).

Also, this freedom that he wants for everyone, would mean that people would have the freedom to impose authority and rules over people, which is kinda contradictory to the whole idea of freedom for one, but also, luffy has never been known to follow authority or rules anyways, even if the authority and rules benefits him! The chain reaction that punching the celestial dragon in Sabaody caused is a great example. He didn't respect the rules of respecting the celestial dragon (at the behest of his allies pleading), punched him (because of his anger and sense of justice), and because of that, marines hunted the strawhats down, nearly destroying the island, and for Luffy’s impulsiveness and sense of “i can do whatever i want, im free”, is utterly defeated and is separated from his crew for two whole years.

I think that moment is most emblematic of the contradiction at the heart of Luffy’s concept of freedom. On one hand, it’s incredibly admirable. He sees someone suffering, sees injustice, and acts. No hesitation, no calculation. But on the other hand, his freedom is whimsical and based solely on Luffy's viewpoints. What's good for Luffy, what benefits Luffy, and what Luffy thinks benefits others. Luffy’s moral compass isn’t guided by consistent logic or strategy, or true absolute freedom as we know it. It's driven by emotion, instinct, and personal bonds. And while that makes him a powerful and charismatic leader, it also makes his vision of freedom subjective and uneven. He doesn’t seem to believe in a freedom that’s universal and consistent for all, he believes in his freedom, and in the freedom of those he cares about, and sometimes even in spite of their choices. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it’s not the pure, idealistic notion of freedom that many attribute to him either.

Going back to what I believe describes Luffy better than the beacon of freedom people portray him as. I think a better word to describe him is selfish. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. But Luffy is deeply, deeply selfish. 

His selfishness isn't rooted in greed or the need to lord over people, but it's about his emotions, his love, his fierce desire to protect the people and things he holds dear to him. To live life on his own terms. He doesn't want to rule others or control fates, but he does what to shape the world around him to fit his values, and that is a kind of selfishness. He chooses his battles based on what he feels is right, not on a universal code or a broader philosophical ideal of freedom. And that means his so-called “freedom” is often just an extension of his will.

When he saves someone, it's not because they wanted to be saved, or even if it was the right choice in that moment to save them, it's because he wanted to. Because he couldn't stand seeing them suffer. When he rebels against authority, it's not because he's fighting for a more just system (he doesn’t want to be a hero), but because he refuses to be restrained. When he honors someone's choice or ignores it, it's based on what he believes is right at that moment. That doesn’t make him a bad person, in fact, it’s what makes him such a compelling character. He’s raw and real, ruled by his heart, and unwavering in his pursuit of what he thinks is right. I also think, for my fellow Usopp fans, that this is an acceptable explanation for why he left Usopp but chased after Sanji and Robin. It's not because Sanji’s and Robins freedom of choice was being inhibited, but because he felt it right to chase after Sanji and Robin, and not for Usopp. That’s simply it. And maybe Zoro whispering in his ear helped influence his decision too (that damn Zoro … 😒)

So in the end, I admire Luffy not because he’s an inspiring beacon of freedom, but because he is flawed. He's selfish, inconsistent, impulsive, and yet still someone who manages to uplift and empowers others through sheer force of will. That’s not a freedom for everyone, nor a freedom that everyone would like. But it’s Luffy's freedom, and I think that's enough for me.

Well, what do you guys think? Did I completely miss the mark? Honestly when I first started watching One Piece, I could not STAND Luffy. I've also been a person that values rules and authority and all that(go marines!), so seeing Luffy and the way he acts…he took getting used to that's for sure lol. But I will say that I'm a bit shaky on this topic honestly. I feel like my mind can be changed! So please keep critiques respectful (I will cry if you are mean). But let me know what yall think!

[isabeauwolf]

Four. Four soulmates. Oh Kamisama no! - Reader x ShiggyOverDabiHawks

💞 Chapter 7 - Fiction meets Reality

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 8

"You said you knew our fates?"

You regret having said that as soon as Overhaul asked that question. Of course, they would all be overly curious about what you knew of their futures. So many bad endings. God, just thinking about it always brought you close to tears.

What was that O.U.A.T quote Rumpelstiltskin said? 'Villains don't get happy endings?'

You inwardly scoffed. Yeah. Not like so many villains' redemption plot lines and stories weren't great in the end. Oh, yeah. Endeavor eventually tries to be better, but it was already too late for Touya? Your hand tightened around the handle of your tea cup before slowly loosening your grip.

All three men were quiet. Waiting for your answer. It was unsettling and nerve wracking.

They could all use their new knowledge when they return back to their worlds and change things, making canon irrelevant and more chaotic.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and huffed through your nose. Even if I say nothing. They are all bound to find out sooner or later with the power of the Internet anyways.

You reopen your eyes. Trying to calm yourself as if you didn't just have a nightmare and massive meltdown in front of your favorite characters. No. They weren't characters anymore in a fictional reality. They were real people. People with their own thoughts, feelings, impulses, desires and needs.

And I'm stuck in the middle and tied to their asses. You thought to yourself, frowning. Every fangirls dream. Right? Yippee.

Okay. You needed to think rationally here. If they were going to dig information out of you, then you were going to need some to. It's a fair exchange.

Might as well wing it. You straighten your shoulders after finishing your tea and gently setting it down into the saucer. The worst any of them can say is no.

"May I ask a question first before we get started?" You ask.

"I don't see why not." Overhaul raised a thin brow. "Depends on what you ask." Lowering his tea cup and recovering his face with his duster mask. "Can you?"

Smartass.

You swear the gangster sounds smug? You honestly thought he'd be the quietest between the four of them. Then again, Overhaul loved to shove his ideas, motives and plans onto other people. His way or the highway.

Not that the others didn't.

You blush hard. You wanted to cover your head inside your blanket and pretend this was all a stupid dream. "What timeline are all of you from in MHA?"

"Timeline?" Hawks asks, leaning forward, resting his elbow on the coffee table and chin in his gloved hand. "MHA?"

Shigaraki enters and sits down on the end of the couch, hunched over. His interest peaked as you felt his intense bloody crimsons staring at you through his blue hair. "Well?" He rasps, playing the role of Dungeon Master. "Don't leave us hanging and glitching on the title screen."

I'm going to need a visual aid. You thought, standing slowly and dropping your blanket off your shoulders, turning and wrapping it around you in a u-shape, your own personal nest in your corner of the couch without getting too close to Shigaraki. "I'll go get a few things, excuse me." On second thought, if you knew Overhaul and Shigaraki, both men would be overly cautious. You pause and glance at Hawks. "Hawks, can you help me carry some stuff out of my room, please?"

Hawks stood, giving you a warm smile and quickly followed you. "Sure, birdy."

"If you try and run away," Shigaraki warned, but you cut him off.

You half turned, glaring at the League of Villains Leader. "Do I look that stupid to you, Shigaraki?" You sassed, your hands on your hip as the man in question blinks at you before his chapped, scarred lips start scowling. "On second, thought. Please don't answer that." You continue towards your room, fast walking as you continue ranting, "Hell, I'd bet Dabi is waiting outside in case I wanted to be a dumbass and try to escape." You stop at the entrance to the hallway, place your hand onto the threshold and peak over your shoulder, glaring at front the door. "So if he wants to kindly come back inside and join the rest of the class for a crash course he needs to come back inside and play shadow tag another time." You huffed and kept walking.

A moment later Dabi opened your front door and came in, a hint of a smirk on his burnt, scarred and stapled lips. "Well, damn. Isn't she a little spitfire when she's angry." He snickered, closing the door and sitting beside the free seat in between you and Shigaraki.

"If she wasn't our ticket home, I'd already turn her into dust." Shigaraki growled; hands twitched as he raised them to scratch at his neck.

"No." Dabi laughed harder. " Nah, you're just pissed off she cut you off while in the middle of your fear me now, hear me rawr or some shit," The flame villain raises his hands, using air quotes, his smirk widening. "Big bad villain threat speech, didn't she?"

"No." Shigaraki denied, his pale cheeks turned pink. He glances away and digs into his neck harder.

Overhaul grimaces underneath his mask. "Ugh, would you stop that nervous and disgusted, unsanitary fidgeting, Shigaraki." The sound of nails digging into flesh makes him inwardly cringe.

The Decay Villain stops, turning his glare at the yakuza. "As if your clawing and scratching habit you do whenever you break out in hives doesn't get annoying either." He hissed, digging his hands into his neck harder before he calms down.

You and Hawks comeback with arms full of MHA merch. You and the Winged Hero share a look, he shakes his head as if saying there's nothing he could do.

You set your boxset of volumes one through twenty onto the table, then showing your favorite figures of each of them with care. "Alright, let's begin before figuring out what to make for dinner."

Overhaul, Hawks and Shigaraki stare at the loot in fascination. Dabi looks bored, playing it off as if he doesn't care, but you noticed his gaze staring at the miniature figure of him and his blue fire igniting in his palm.

You return to the couch, rewrapping yourself into blanket, rubbing your forehead. "Okay, I'll ask again. What timeline is everyone from in MHA or My Hero Academia as your universe is called." You lower your hand and continue. "I'm asking since the start of the series behinds following Izuku Midoriya, the main character and his journey to becoming a Hero in training." You glance at each of their faces, only Shigaraki tenses, glaring at the green hair character. "Both Shigaraki and Overhaul face Midoriya or Deku and lose."

"What?" Shigaraki growls, seething in his seat. "All Might's disciple. That little pipsqueak beats me?"

"That's absurd." Overhaul scoffs, disbelief evident in his usually monotone drawl.

Dabi doesn't try to hide his amusement. "That snot nosed; crybaby little shit beats your asses?"

Hawks feels proud of the young rookie, inwardly impressed.

You lean forward, turning the box around to face you, slowly opening it. "So far there's only seven seasons of the anime out. The final and last season doesn't air until this fall." You explain, running your fingers along the spines and pulling them out with care. "This manga boxset is just the first twenty volumes. The second one hasn't come out yet." You got up again and went back to your room once more. "I'll be back." You came back after pulling out volumes with Shigaraki, Dabi and Overhaul on them from the single pile. "These are my favorites covers." You admitted with a hint of a blush on your cheeks, then the dvds/blu-ray's.

The more you explain, the more each one of them can't believe their ears. Couldn't wrap their minds around that they were considered fictional characters in this world.

"How do you know the ending without having the rest?" Hawks asks, staring at volume twenty-one, Endeavor and him on the cover.

"I read online after binge watching the anime." You admitted, your eyes flicker to all of them. "Now, please answer honestly. Which part of the timeline are you all from?"

Hawks admitted that he hadn't seen or met Midoriya.

Which meant they came here before the first paranormal liberation front arc and war arcs.

Overhaul stared at his figure, then to the two manga covers with him on it: volumes eleven and nineteen. The gangster stares at the green haired protagonist, the schoolboy and Hero in training he remembers nearly getting into his way after Eri had ran away. Lemillion and Deku. Both of those brats take him down, his operation with Sir NightEye and then Shigaraki takes away his arms and the last two years of his life's work again?! Leaving him helpless, quirkless and left as a background character like some worthless, useless bystander? A shell of his former self. Him? Considered some low-class B Villain?

Overhaul's gloved hands tighten on the volume, nearly overhauling the book in his hand, glaring at Deku, this Izuku Midoriya before fixing his hard, burning, intense gaze on the Leader of The League of Villains.

The man across from him meeting his gaze head-on, no hint of fear. No, his scarred and chapped lips tug high into a smug, sadistic grin on his face. "What's wrong, Overhaul?"

Oh god. It's one thing to see this type of interaction between the pair of Villains on screen, but it's completely a different matter and experience seeing it firsthand in person. You've got chills, the hair on the back of your neck rises and you visibly shudder and remain seated.

Dabi watches in amusement, kicking his feet back, picking up one of his figures, examining it from all angles. "Looks like the shogi board has cracked and the new King Game has begun." His cerulean blues meet your gaze. "Ain't it, doll?"

----- End of Chapter 7 ----

Chapter 1 - Ignorance is Bliss

Chapter 2- Unexpected Encounter

Chapter 3 - The Matchmaking Goddess meddles

Chapter 4 - New Game. Love Game, Start.

Chapter 5: Dance with Devils and a Red Winged Angel

Chapter 6: The Red String

Chapter 8: Fives a crowd?

I know, I know it's highly illogical to spill the beans, okay, throw them into the ground and say a Hail Mary. But seriously, I thought long and hard about this. Not just my simping getting in the way. Like really thought about it. Our guys still have their quirks, soulmates or not they could easily kill you and I'd rather see them angry, losing their shit than try to lie my way out of it 😅

Thoughts?

Tag list: @cherry-queens-blog @fanofflames @touyas-wife @redr0sewrites @slayfics @dabislittlemouse @doumadono @wtf-ask-baddie-overhaul @number-2-hero-hawks @meeludrawz @kyiratodoroki @lucyblue101 @angelblueflame @canary58143 @nakiich @ihearf @mossy-opal @beekeepingageissome

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 36

This title image implies Shuro's team was following the party during their ill-fated adventure. Maizuru knew exactly what she was doing when she tried to kill Laios's party.

I've commented a few times that everything about Kabru's fighting style screams "assassin", and this panel just cements that he is a dangerous person.

That look struck fear in Rin and I feel like if Kabru was the impulsive type, he would have killed her on the spot for "questioning" him.

I don't think Kabru intends to antagonize the Touden party, but I'm sure Kabru will become a major threat if saving Falin requires beating the magician. Kabru does not believe Laios would be a good ruler, so he may opt to kill Laios if necessary.

And if a fight breaks out for control of the dungeon, I expect Kabru to be a big figure during that event.

What was Shuro's plan in the long run? He left Laios's party without any explanation and then got his team together to pull off their own rescue. Was he hoping he could beat the red dragon, resurrect Falin, and then sweep her off her feet and whisk her away without Laios realizing? He could have at least told Laios that he was going to take care of rescuing Falin.

Glad it got mentioned that Shuro's party are all women. I think Chilchuck wishes he was hired by a party of all women. Meanwhile, Marcille is a bit uncomfortable that the guy who wants to marry Falin has an entourage of women.

I'll let you know that I've read a few chapters beyond this one and there's something I really want to talk about with this moment, but I'll save it for chapter 38.

Got the names of Shuro's other companions. Asebi looked so excited to help out with the cooking.

There are so many layers of racism with Maizuru calling Holm a dwarf. It's not hard to tell them apart by their general body frames. Every dwarf I've seen so far is short and bulky while every gnome is a bit taller and leaner. Also, Maizuru has been traveling with him for a week and never learned his race or his name, but she does know Rin's name.

And once again, we see that Chilchuck has very low opinions about his team.

Laios explained the situation and Shuro has no idea what's going on anymore. He was going in under the assumption that he'd be fighting a dragon to rescue Falin, but now there's a magician involved. Since Shuro was passing by on his training, he probably doesn't know the first thing about the history of the dungeon.

Of all the possible reasons the magician might hate him, Laios thinks it's because he tried to eat the food in a painting.

Laios has a reasonable excuse he could use to avoid explaining how they escaped the magician. He was unconscious during the encounter so he could say that and pass the buck onto Chilchuck to explain things.

Kabru is playing Laios like a fiddle. All he had to do was feign interest in eating monsters and Laios was willing to share anything, including almost revealing his sword is a monster. But it looks like it might come back to bite him since he'll have to actually eat monsters later.

Kabru is keeping a straight face through everything, but Shuro is clearly unnerved at what Laios has been doing on his journey.

There's that horned lion again.

At this point, I had to sidetrack myself and look back through chapter 12. As you may have noticed from my frequent instances of pointing them out, the winged lion statues have bugged me for a while. I wanted to know if it has anything to do with how the kingdom got turned into a dungeon so I went back through the moments Laios saw in the living pictures to see if there was any winged lion decorum at all.

And I didn't find any. But there was one picture of someone standing in front of a winged lion statue, so the winged lion likely predates the kingdom becoming a dungeon, but I'd like to know if it predates Delgal.

Also, I noticed Delgal's crown and the treasure insect tiara from chapter 10 have similar ways they embed gems into them, including the large ruby at the center. So the nest is a mimic of the Golden Kingdom's royal headwear.

Not only are they racist, but Shuro's team are also xenophobic. Maizuru does not like how Shuro fell in love with a northern girl, but is at least willing to vouch for her depending on how this journey goes. Hien and Benichidori are horrified that Shuro and Falin's hypothetical son would look so different from past rulers though.

Asebi has better hearing than Kabru. It might just be spy training but I want to assume she's an elf of some kind. Maybe there's an eastern elf variant?

Obviously, her race is going to be important, otherwise there'd be no reason to hide her. And Kuro's reaction to being near her implies there's something odd about her.

Kabru was hoping to dig up dirt on Laios and discovered a goldmine with the black magic thing.

That fire Maizuru started is alerting everything to their location.

Falin started bleeding out of her left eye in chapter 29 and she's bleeding out of it here too. I'm certain Marcille did not repair Falin's eyes correctly and the magician putting his influence on Falin is tearing at her eyes.

Symbolically, we could say Falin is crying because she has been enslaved by the magician.

The magician's idea of giving Falin a suitable form to find Delgal was to make her DUMMY THICC.

This is going to sound weird, but something about Asebi's hand in the panel where she told Maizuru what happened looked strange to me. And then I got the same vibe from the same panel showing Falin's hands.

Kui puts extra effort into drawing hands and fingernails and something about both Asebi and Falin's hands just seems different to me. Their nails just seem longer than they should. And Falin's nails are definitely longer than before she was transformed. The mermaids in MMT4 also had slightly longer fingernails as well.

So I think Asebi might be some sort of demihuman just based on the vibes I'm getting from looking at her fingernails.

I know it's silly, but I had to get that out.

back

[rolameny]

To my regret I need to talk about the nonbinary robot in Earthspark.

So this is a show set post-Cybertronian civil war, on an Earth where every Autobot and Decepticon who fought in the war are marooned. A new group of young robots comes to life and goes through adolescence as the first of a new kind of Transformer in a context alien to any of their elders.

They're "born" in two batches, first the short red and grey ones in the bottom right, then the green, purple, and orange ones in the back.

Green teen robot is Nightshade, who is nonbinary. Orange teen robot is Jawbreaker. Not relevant to this post is Hashtag, the chronically online zoomer robot (purple).

Nightshade is established as nonbinary immediately in their first feature episode in a pronoun-forward way. Optimus goes through a teachable moment learning about this. Multiple times they introduce themself by giving out their pronouns; they are the only character in the show who does this. In a later appearance Nightshade meets someone with a pronoun pin on her bag and learns the word "nonbinary." Charmingly, their reaction is: "What a wonderful word for a wonderful experience!"

Nightshade's stories are not otherwise about identity. While I think it's a genuinely goodhearted impulse to put this in a y7 show, and without even having to dig I am 100% sure this is all that's left after the character was sanded down by Nickelodeon/Hasbro leadership, it does fundamentally convey that being nonbinary is largely about pronoun usage.

Other than the she/they queen Nightshade meets in Philly, nobody on this show talks or thinks about gender at all. Every robot comes out of the living earth knowing their gender identity and pronouns and never questions them. This is a world of absolutes, and Nightshade's just found the secret third absolute.

Jawbreaker's storyline, meanwhile, is about identity. His siblings all pick an alt mode to transform into; Jawbreaker can't choose. He goes around asking all the adults in his life how they knew what they wanted to be. After a lot of agonizing he lands on "when I know I'll know, and for now I'm happy as I am." He spends a couple episodes as the only robot without an alt, till he meets Grimlock, who turns into a T-rex. Somewhere, Fun Home Ring of Keys.mp3 starts playing. Jawbreaker follows Grimlock around in a delighted haze until he finds a dinosaur skeleton to base his alt mode on.

Jawbreaker scanning a dinosaur skeleton is treated as something unusual in comparison to everyone else picking vehicles. This new form, and JB's ability to use it, is something that stands out.

Completely unspoken here and elsewhere is that Nightshade scanned their alt mode from a marble statue of an owl.

To me, Jawbreaker's story is a really sweet one about identity, about being unsure about yourself and your body, coming to terms with that uncertainty, and then finding yourself in a paradigm you had no idea existed. Nightshade's story is about how you should use they/them pronouns to refer to some people.

These two characters don't, as far as I've seen, talk to each other about this at all. (I'm nearly done S1 and have skimmed episode descriptions/character fanwiki pages for the other, and it doesn't seem to come up. Maybe I'll be proved wrong!)

If they don't ever have that conversation, if the show doesn't ever draw a line between the literal and the allegorical.... man. It's just such a missed opportunity. Again, this is a y7 show. It swings between nuanced and clunky frequently. And despite everything I do admire the show creators for making a point of having a nonbinary robot. It's just a bummer that what this show is teaching kids is that instead of two firm choices that necessarily say everything about you and your appearance, there are three.

[monster-rinds]

Chapter 39: Not a nightmare

She found herself walking beneath more stars than she ever imagined could exist.

There may have been white wisps of clouds here and there, but they blended with the fields and fields of the eyes of the ancestors and it was hard to see them. Snaking trails and pools of darkness in the sky around the horizon marked the canopies of the sparse trees her people walked amongst.

The Left Eye of the Great One was not in the sky. She was sleeping.

And yet, still, her people persisted in pursuit of their hunters, who had found a sizable and weakened prey.

It would take days to wear out the beast and bring it down, but they could all walk, and so they did. The caretakers and artisans, the old and the children, and herself were taking their time and being careful, letting their hunters lead the pursuit and harry their prey into exhausting itself. It was the way they did things, and it worked.

But in this moment, she found herself without a care or concern, and could simply wonder at the sky as they trekked beneath it.

Everyone else was taking care of themselves or each other, and she could simply be.

She’d been having nightmares lately, and terrible ones at that, so it was a relief to spend some time at night not sleeping, pushing her way through the grasses and looking up at all of her ancestors watching her in return.

Perhaps they could help.

This would be a good time to talk to them.

So, with each step, she sent up a little prayer. She muttered her words and gazed up at them as she carefully felt her way through the grasses with her feet. Walking in the footsteps of others made it safer to do this.

“What must I do to ease my nightmares?” she asked in a language that part of her realized wasn't English. “How can these malicious spirits be lifted from my soul?”

Two questions, spoken several times each, in alternation. She found herself looking back down at the darkened ground as her words became part of her hiking, a rhythm that carried her on.

But her ancestors didn't answer, of course.

They never did by voice. The best she could expect was a thought in her own mind. Maybe, if she was lucky, a fully formed one that seemed to come from somewhere else. But often it was just an impulse at the right time, and the sense that she’d done right if she’d followed it.

But even that was not forthcoming as the night's journey wore on, and she began to feel discouraged.

She even addressed her great grandmother by name, but to no response.

She would have taken her nightmares to her living elders, her mother and her aunts, but she was ashamed of her visions. They involved her taking actions against her children she’d never purposefully dream of doing.

In her nightmares, she was the monster, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

Her heart sank as she realized she might be cursed.

But, also, her attempts to entreat her ancestors for wisdom reminded her of her other nightmares, when she'd go searching for a safe place to pee and find danger behind every bush. It often seemed that in dreams, it was impossible to get what you wanted or needed. And maybe that was a lesson for life.

But no, that was magical thinking, Cassy thought. Confirmation bias as trauma, warping her dreams. Ultimately meaningless. Life itself wasn't really like that.

But she liked this dream, despite its frustrations. It felt powerful to be someone else, and it felt special to get a vision of what it might have been like to be an early homonid. One of her own ancestors.

And, just as she was thinking that, marveling at how vivid this walk through an equatorial savanna felt, and how gorgeous and detailed the night sky was, wondering at how her brain had concocted these full sensory visions, something black and gangly like a lemur or orangutan came rushing perfectly silent from one of the trees and collided with her in a whoosh of tingly chills and muscle spasms.

“I'll eat your nightmare demons,” a strange voice said in her mind. “I'll protect you and bring you happiness.”

And then she found herself thinking it was lucky she'd found someone so full of parasites. She’d nearly starved to disincorporation while clinging to that tree after the death of her last host.

---

The coarse wood grains of the dining room table reflected her body heat as they pressed against her cheek. And the next thing she became aware of was the embarrassing pool of saliva that had collected under the corner of her mouth.

There was cool but harsh sunlight striking her closed eyelids, and when she curled her fingers she discovered where her hands were. Her right one was in her lap, and her left lay on the table in front of her face.

She’d fallen asleep at the table and couldn't remember how she got there, let alone what had happened or how long it had been since her visit with Synthia in her domain the night after the storm.

“Oh, hey,” a soft but familiar voice said. “You were snoring so quietly, but the table kind of amplified it. It was cool. You're awake now, right?”

She didn't quite feel like opening her eyes and sitting upright yet, but that was Ayden talking. Why was he here?

She knew from the temperature of the room, the familiar texture of the table top, and the shape of the chair beneath her, that she was in her own home. And from the angle of the sun on her eyes, she guessed it was late morning.

“I'm pretty sure she's awake,” Ayden said to someone else.

She tapped her fingers and clawed at the table as a way of confirming his suspicions and expressing an emotion. Then she lifted her head and turned it the other way, away from the sun, and brought her right hand up onto the table. And groaned.

She’d hoped she could make a nice snarling growl, but it didn't come out that way. It was just a little moaning goan.

“Yeah,” Ayden agreed with her. “I get ya. Take your time.”

“Coffee?” Susan, her housemate asked.

Cassy repeated her groan.

“Yes,” Ayden said. “For both of us, please. We had a long and bad night.”

“I think most of us did,” Susan replied from her way into the kitchen. “But getting fired like that sucks extra hard.”

Oh, so it hadn’t been that long.

Cassy opened her eyes to spy her slumped silhouette cast against the far wall of the dining room, right between the theatrical sized Frozen poster and the hand painted “We’re here, we're queer, get used to it!” sign taped to the wall.

She was right at the edge of the table, her right pinky finger hanging off of it.

She frowned and mumbled, “Who am I?”

She cringed at how clichéd it sounded.

“Ah, shit,” Ayden said.

He was sitting across the table from her.

But before she could reassure him or elaborate, there was a heavy knock on the front door.

“That’s gotta be Greg!” Ayden called to Susan. “Hang in there Cassy. You're surrounded by friends.”

Susan called back, “Let him in. Does he do coffee?”

“Yep!”

Cassy heard Ayden push his chair back and start heading for the door, muttering something about texting like a human being instead of knocking like a monster.

She lifted her head in time to watch him exit the room to reach the little foyer. It was more of a mud room, but they used the fancy word for it and called the house their manor, even though they just rented.

She saw dust motes dancing in the harsh shallow sunlight, and thought she saw something else trailing behind Ayden’s head. Something like the streaming feathers of a bird of paradise, but rendered in the warping of space.

She recognized what it was, but didn't know why.

Emotional parasites. Dream eaters.

Almost everyone had them.

Though, they'd been sparse in Gresham lately.

Oh shit.

She sat up straight and looked back into the kitchen to see if she could catch a glimpse of Susan.

Her housemate crossed her vision returning to the electric kettle from the sink, with water filter in hand. She had the parasites, too. A couple of bold ones, who had to be unaware of how visible they were to one such as she.

Of course, she was better hidden than they were.

What?

“Hey, Greg,” Ayden said from the front door. “Come in. She's awake, but maybe confused.”

“Dammit. OK. Thanks,” Greg said. “Oh, this is a nice little house.”

“Isn't it?”

“I love the decor.”

She turned to see them both walk into the room, brow furrowed, and heard herself say, “I'm Cassy.” That felt right. That was her name. Well, her nickname. “Cassiopeia, actually. Yep, that's me. Good.”

“Is Cass still good?” Greg asked, concern creasing his face under his beard as he pulled a chair out to sit in.

He had a single parasite.

Cassy lightly slapped the table and looked at her hand. There was nothing unusual about it.

“I might have to figure out what ‘good’ means again to answer that. But my migraine is all gone,” she answered.

“So, what did Felicity do?” Ayden asked.

She tilted her head when she looked at him, but couldn’t figure out how to answer that. “What do you mean?”

Greg grunted, “Check your messages. Felicity used your phone earlier this morning, before I got a moving violation.”

“You got a ticket?”

“First time, yeah.”

She pulled the edges of her mouth down and pouted for him, and then reached for her phone, which was usually in her purse. But it was on the table, face down, not far from where her left hand had been.

It looked like it might have a physics eater in it.

“Ah,” she said and picked up her phone to turn it over.

The physics eater immediately dashed for a wall socket.

So her touch was what it took to alert them of her nature. Interesting. That could come in handy.

The latest messages were in the group chat, from Ayden and Greg, all in response to the last message sent from her phone. Felicity had told them to tell Synthia she was sorry.

Sorry she’d fed herself to Cassy, she remembered.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

Oh, holy shit.

“I – she did it,” she muttered more to herself, but still loud enough for the others to hear. “She took your dare, Greg.”

“She? Felicity? What dare?” he asked.

Cassy blinked at him, realizing now that she remembered it more clearly than he did. And, she could remember so much more. Things were coming back to her that she’d never experienced.

She reminded him, “To let me eat her up and give me all her memories and who and what she was. I, um. I remember… I remember the tactile sensations of my earliest host cracking open the bones of a scavenged carcass to eat the marrow…” She wanted to say more, but the memory of the unique and enticing taste of marrow and the feeling of its intense density of nutrients reaching her own blood was too distracting. And she found herself staring into a blank spot on the wall.

Ayden was subtly shaking his head in the corner of her vision. Then she saw movement near her elbow and turned to see Susan, who was putting a mug of coffee onto the table.

“I wish I had time to play in your games,” Susan said. “You always have the best stories. But I just can’t stay up that late.”

It took Cassy a second to realize what Susan was talking about, but when she did, it didn’t help her figure out how to respond.

“Your coffees are coming, gentlemen,” Susan said to Greg and Ayden. “I’ve only got one pourover funnel.”

“Oh, we’re fine with that. Thank you so much,” Ayden said.

“I’m having tea,” Susan said. “But I’d love to join you all and hear about this one, if that’s OK.”

“Huh,” Greg grunted again. “Sure, but, uh. You know that storm yesterday?”

“Yeah?”

“This is about that, not any game. Some people saw more than just the cloud or, you know, the weird hallucinations that went with it.”

“Oh?”

“We three were in the middle of it. And Cassy was there the longest.”

“Oh, holy shit, are you OK?” Susan asked Cassy in a sudden shift to over-performative but maybe also genuine concern.

Finding herself surprisingly able to do so, Cassy looked Susan right in the eyes until her housemate looked uncomfortable about it, then said, “Monsters are real, Sue.”

She idly wondered if she could look out of Susan’s eyes if she wanted to.

Maybe after she got permission.

---

previous

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[posttechnodystopia]

Oldboy was a Warning of Today's Big Data Dystopian Future

I thought I would finish today by showing stills from one of my favorite arthouse movies of the 21st century. A disclaimer, Oldboy is not my favorite arthouse movie. Nor is it my favorite Chanwook Park movie. One of these days I'll send him up in a subsequent post.

2003

For those of you who do not know, Oldboy is the story of a scoundrel named Oh Dae Su who is kidnapped without warning and without knowledge of who his captor is.

Struggling to cope with his captivity for fifteen years, he is suddenly released with nothing but the obsessions that kept him alive--Revenge against the person who held him captive, and Curiosity as to why he was kidnapped.

But freedom becomes complicated for Oh Dae Su when he realizes events are being manipulated around him. The phone he is given mysteriously belongs to his captor. The clothes are not his. And he begins to suspect the young woman who decides to take him in.

There is a ton going on in this complex plot. Oh Dae Su does not know what he did to cause his captivity, something all private citizens should fear about the complex legal and digital world that makes decisions for us.

Multiple spends most of his time in captivity practicing to fight his captors, and preparing his escape. We only find out halfway through the film that every action he took was under constant surveillance. His efforts would have been for nothing. He was as powerless in the confines of his cell as he was in the real world.

Oh Dae Su even fails in captivity to take his own life. He admits, while trying to dig through a wall, that even if he falls to his death he will be free. Each time he is rescued from his attempt at self harm.

All of this is to say, a theme of totalitarian control and surveillance runs throughout Oldboy. Even the clothes he wears have been given to him by his abductor, and they are loaded with bugs so that they can know everything he says and does.

Even Oh's decisions are in doubt as he comes to question whether he has been either drugged or hypnotized.

The environment in Oldboy resembles today's consumer reality. Our phones that we use every minute collect and store personal data that is used to market products to us. Worse, that data is subsequently used to direct product marketing so that the things we want are conditioned into us. Even the clothes we wear and the food we eat are someone else's choice.

So was Chanwook Park trying to warn us about the nightmare of today from 22 years ago?

Not exactly. A lot has been explained about Park's motivations while making Oldboy, more than I have even read.

Chanwook Park has said that Oldboy was only partly an adaptation of the source graphic novel by Garon Tsuchiya. On a deeper level, Park has acknowledged that he meant to retell the play Oedipus Rex using the hypnosis motif that Tsuchiya employed in the manga.

But Park also acknowledged his influences were modern and postmodern novels, including the works of Franz Kafka.

Franz Kafka's writings are surreal dark comedies, but they are presented with bleak cynicism for the social bureaucracy of law which was his first vocation.

It follows that Chanwook Park did not write the script for Oldboy thinking of the risks modern technology would pose to us. Instead, he was writing about character motivations that were centuries old.

We learn by the end of Oldboy that his captor had his own plan for revenge against Oh Dae Su for some past wrong. But the unfolding of his revenge plot could be seen as the movie's only flaw, in that is seems nihilistic and purposeless. By the end, the villain gets nothing out of it and still suffers due to his previous, tragic loss.

The villain's revenge is entirely nihilistic.

This was Chanwook Park's stated intent for the revenge theme in Oldboy. But it is also a comment on the emptiness of totalitarianism, whether state sponsored or corporate. While it is all dangerous, in the end the impulse to dominate others is stale and hollow for the perpetrator of these violations.

There is much more to be said about Chanwook Park's filmography in all its richness. But for the topic of this blog post, the similarity between the movie and reality comes essentially from the fact that people have had the same dark motives since before the conception of Big Data.

There is something more to be said about how Oldboy, and the filmography of Nora Ephron, undermine some of the essential theories of postmodernism by Jean Baudrillard. But that is for another day.

[fountainpenguin]

"I'm trying to keep up as best I can! I wanna be there if you need a hand... I'm looking, looking- Looking for you!" (x)

---

New Criminal Experience chapter today!

Chapter 5 - “Tracked”

❤️ Read on AO3

💙 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

Mumbo and Skizz split up to find the lost allay eggs, llama respawn blankets, and Impulse. Mumbo takes a good look around Evernight: city of ever-changing blocks.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

One teleport later…

Operation Llama Blanket and Allay Egg Recovery requires stealth, precision, and snap-second judgments on how many of the enderspawn hybrids can be trusted not to turn them in. In a whirlwind of shadow blots, Skizz poofs them in behind a row of composters tucked down an alley of colorful, mismatched blocks. Skizz is in a crouch; Mumbo drops to mirror him. Endermen and endermites shuffle around not far away. Every breath betrays him as a wanted man.

And any one of these chaps could heel-turn out me.

The paths out of the city glow faintly on his mental map, as they always do. Leaving sounds lovely, but not when Double-U and Buzz are missing their spawn blankets. It's not just about his girls, either. The allay eggs are his responsibility.

The last two allay eggs in the world.

So where are they? It's not about the money. It's never been about that, regardless of what his species and experience in smuggling and trading may lead you to believe. He took this job because Doc asked him to. Said he was researching; he'd give the newbies a start on Education and send them to the building when his work was done. Not unusual, and Mumbo trusts Doc more than most.

Does he know? It's the question coursing like a river through his hands, up his shaking arms, and down his back in tiny flash floods. But he can't ask - not here, not now - because Doc still lives so far away. He'll crash when he gets to Tintopia. He is going to reach Tintopia, with his llamas' spawn blankets in hand.

Okay. We can do this. Just breathe.

Mumbo shifts his eyes to Skizz, then remembers why you don't look at endermen directly and drops his gaze. "I'll have a nip around. Thanks for the drop-off. It means the world to me, mate."

The blue eyes peering back at him (carefully, off-center) don't look at all like the eyes of a man who meant to do the Allay Dragon harm. Perhaps it's foolish and maybe he's being played, but Mumbo can't help but believe it. "Without me or Impulse, you've got no escort. I'll see if I can follow from a distance, maybe along the rooftops, but if someone sees me-"

"I know. Skizz, I know what I'm getting into- It's not my first brush with the anarchy lifestyle. If someone attacks me, you don't have to get involved. There's difficult people after you." Neutral. Non-specific. Skizz shifts, tugging his jumper sleeve. Mumbo can read that stinging, shameful silence and almost wishes that he can't. He says, "I won't rat you out, but I'd rather not see you fight." BigB's got his arrows and clones. Vee's an evoker; she's got her vex. They're both spellcasters armed with magic. And Skizz is layered with unknown mods. Both sides of this fight could easily get hurt.

"I… Yeah, sorry. Yeah."

Mumbo reaches a hand through his robes. He grips the handle of his modded scythe - still sitting there in his soul slot, as it always is - and withdraws it in a crackle of blue sparks. Skizz's wings flare out behind his torso, flapping once. They scrape the composters and the back alley wall. Not much of a wall with several blocks plucked out of it, leaving holes, but that's not the point. Mumbo keeps his eye contact locked on the scythe. He doesn't give any sort of demo swipe, though that's quite tempting, actually. Skizz is halfway to flying off as it is. Can he fly with those angel wings?

"I'm all right," he tells Skizz. "I'm Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo; I can handle myself a bit."

"Ah- That's… Uh, you've got a modded weapon?"

"I transported a bit of slime and some otter spawn eggs to a vulture once." That's non-specific enough, yes. Skizz keeps his eyes away, but for the briefest moment, they flicker over. Mumbo can feel them graze his forehead.

"Are you kidding me right now, homie? Otter spawn eggs are real? I thought those were just a myth!"

"Well, you and most of Between, yes."

"So you've found the Invisible Hub?"

At that, Mumbo chuckles and tucks the scythe away again. Bad move, wandering with that on full display. "I said I traded him slime, mate. I never said I've found wherever slimes spawn." Scythe gone, he lays a hand against a composter lid, ready to swing himself to the other side of the little wall. "You find Impulse. He and Coldsnap can't still be going at it." And if they're lucky, Impulse is still alive. There wasn't a death message on the comm. He must be all right, unless Mumbo made a total spoon move and forgot to toggle the settings on. They pause in sync, fingers curling, hearts beating. IS Impulse okay?

Surely he must be. Skizz asks the same question, then, but not about Impulse. "Will you be okay?"

"I haven't got a choice." But he does have a plan.

Step 1: Get the spawn blankets. It might sound harsh, but those rank above the allay eggs as far as he's concerned. Until a new account syncs to an egg, they're effectively unfertilized; they might even get broken in a scuffle tonight and he won't feel any shame. There will be other jobs with other spawn eggs. But there won't be another Buzz and Double-U, sitting sweetly in their shed as he cleans between their toes.

I can do this. Gah, if only I wasn't down to my last invisibility potion. Since he had Impulse watching his back, he didn't stock up. Gets expensive in modern times with modern shortages, y'know? Takes up space.

And at the moment, that's as far as the plan goes. He'll leave the safety of the composter wall. Find the blankets- someone must have picked them up. Take them back somehow. Barter. He's got a few things on hand that might draw the eye. He'll surrender the scythe if he absolutely must. It's quite simple, really. 'Simple' is key if you don't want analysis to morph into paralysis and chain you to the ground. Mumbo crouches to go for the leap and swing.

"Mumbles? Do you have another skin to change into?" When Mumbo turns his head, blinking and wondering how filthy he must be for a question like that, Skizz gestures at his travel robes. "You, uh… might blend in better if you're not wearing bright blue and yellow. If someone took your llama blankets, they'll probably be watching for you."

"I might want them to, if it makes it easier to find and return them to me."

Skizz hesitates, the noise skating across his teeth. That betrays the answer even before his words: "Evernight's anarchy, man. And you know how endermen are about taking stuff just because it's there."

Mumbo shrugs. "I don't have a choice. They're my llamas, dude. And if I can save the allays too, all the better."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[fourswords]

my silly au again, ranking the little dudes in order from from most to least impulsive in their decision-making(??? i don't think that's the right way to phrase that. it's a ranking of how likely they are to just Go After Shit instead of stopping to think about it first. i just wanted to write out some characterization notes lmao):

#1: light - i mean given the manga of course he'd be number one. of course he'd Win. he sees something? he goes After It. something needs doing? he goes After It. and so on and so forth. there isn't a single part of him that doesn't impulsively make decisions at the drop of a hat (green running into the sandstorm. blue following the lady into the snowstorm. vio getting cornered by shadow and being like "alright how can i manipulate this situation so i can fucking Win" and deciding to pretend to be evil with him. red seeing a kid running from angry townspeople and immediately stepping in even to his own detriment). if anything he's a bit irritated that the others aren't as much of a Driving Force as he is. he wants to DO THINGS!!!!!!! he's working on actually listening to others before he does shit nowadays though.

#2: smithy - smithy is not AS bad as light in the "jumping into holes without thinking about it" regard but he IS still bad about it. however. yes he'll just walk off and start doing shit if he thinks it's the best thing to do but he's much, MUCH more likely to hang back for a minute and think about something before he does it. when he DOES "just walk off and start doing shit" it's because he took more than half a second to think about it and THEN came to the conclusion that He's Totally Right About This and He Will Be Going That Way, Actually. he took five seconds, thank you very much. i mean we're talking about the kid who, according to ezlo's dialogue in the minish cap, just jumped into the Giant Whirlwind On Top Of Veil Falls with literally no warning whatsoever. hilarious of him tbh. his tendency to hang back a bit more compared to light is also shown in his game where ezlo does note that he expresses concern or hesitancy in a couple of instances (before he gets into the first minecart in the cave of flames, for example). unfortunately he has never worked on actually listening to others in his life and it shows.

#3: knight - knight is way too mild to just Go After things unless he's by himself and it's an absolute necessity. if he's with someone else and something comes up then his first course of action (if able to do so) is to ask what the other person wants to do first and then build up a plan that incorporates both their perspectives on the situation. on the bright side he isn't afraid of being firm at the very least, so he isn't the type to get stuck in a repeating loop of "idk...i'll do this if you don't wanna do that but SHOULD we do that...." or whatever. like he's more "okay, so you think [x] and i think [y], so we'll do [xy] unless you have something else you'd like to add." which is why he's generally really good to work with.

#4: four - four has never gone after a single thing in his life other than vaati. i'm being so serious here. four can be so annoying to some people because he just plain doesn't give a shit what happens. he just rolls with it. he's like "oh we're doing [x]? lol okay" and when questioned if he has anything to say about it he's just like "nah." and that's it. if he actually feels a slight need to do something then he'll plan Around the events of [x]. which, of course, means he does nothing to stop [x] from happening! like knight makes sure to always ask four if he has something to add to whatever they're all planning because that's just what he does but four LITERALLY just goes "nah." EVERY TIME. i'm sure light finds it infuriating at certain points. however (and this is important): IN an absolutely dire, no-holds-barred, genuine clusterfuck of a situation, four can and will turn on the part of his brain that beat vaati's ass so thoroughly that it got him written down as the official legendary "hero of the four sword" whose story was canonically remembered all the way down to light's era in the child timeline. he becomes a sort of mix of light's utter drive to do shit and knight's information-gathering, planning ways, with the addition of being exceptionally good at risk analysis. everything i just said can be all but disregarded though because like i said. he just plain will not become this unless he's facing another person like vaati. you could even stick this guy in front of a giant army trying to kill him and he'd STILL be like "ehhhh who cares i'll get 'em somehow" that's literally just How Much He Rolls With Shit

[motheatenscarf]

There is a fun template making the rounds and I decided I also want to play. I think most of these are self explanatory at a glance, but I'll elaborate a bit more for anyone curious/interested.

Okay, I lied, it was not a bit more, it wound up being a LOT more. Brevity is the soul of wit and I am a blathering fool.

-> Krile. She's a work friend. They get along well enough but don't ever really hang out beyond maybe getting lunch together sometimes. She's capable and reliable, but there's not a whole lot they have in common and they haven't even gotten to trauma bond yet. Dawntrail will probably change that.

-> Minfilia. Oh boy, is this a complicated relationship. They got along so well at first. Talia was terrified of this Echo and Blessing and had no one to talk to about it for years, and Minfilia was kind and patient with all of her questions. They confided in each other and supported one another in having this bizarre path in life that they didn't choose. But Minfilia the friend and Minfilia the leader were two different people. The more time Talia spent with the Scions, the more she started to question Minfilia's decisions. Every call she made seemed wrong. It wasn't Minfilia's fault she hadn't been prepared for this role that was thrust on her when Luisoix died, but Talia pinned the blame on her for everything that followed. Watching the Scions militarize under bad leadership reminded her of Garlemald. It seemed inevitable that they would be misused and she would have her faith and devotion broken again and again. She had one foot out the door by the Bloody Banquet, and then Minfilia chose to stay behind. Talia was still angry at Hydaelyn for taking away the only gift that made her useful and giving her the silent treatment without ever telling her why, but her was the big blue rock herself telling Minfilia to die without explanation as to why, and Minfilia was blindly obeying. It spit on the sacrifices her people had just made. Talia blew up at her before storming out of the sewers. She said some cruel, unforgivable things, just to be hurtful because she was hurt. She regretted them the moment she was in the carriage escaping to safety, but never got the chance to apologize. They weren't friends anymore when Minfilia died. It's something that haunts her to this day.

-> Tataru. A very sweet and uncomplicated friendship! They grew closer as Tataru shared her fears of not being able to do enough to protect the Scions, and then became friendlier and more open around each in Heavensward when it was just the two of them and Alphinaud. They look out for each other in more social matters, and Tataru is one of the few people Talia feels safe enough to be stupid around and is among her top choices when looking for someone to spend downtime with.

-> Thancred. The brother she never had. Few other people look out for her the way Thancred does. He's probably the person who is most interested in not just her physical safety, but her emotional well-being. He's vigilant to people taking advantage of her, which I'd like to believe is because he sees how hard she beats herself up over past mistakes and how she believes atonement must be paid in her own blood. It's a self destructive impulse he's familiar with, and one he's reluctant to open up about, but when he finally does, they're closer for it. They're also able to give each other just enough well meaning shit without pushing past each other's boundaries, which is the ideal sibling dynamic tbh. The only point of contention they've ever had was over how he treated Ryne, but both of them were just projecting their issues about Minfilia onto her, albeit in opposite directions.

-> Estinien. The brother she never wanted. Alphinaud came home with a dirty stray cat that was hissing and spitting and asked "Can we keep him?" and Talia said, "How about this other, better cat who isn't allergic to sentiment and doesn't belittle you?" And Alphinaud said, "Ysayle's nice, but this one's good, I can tell." And then Talia was stuck with Estinien forever. She started to come around on him before he got turned into Nidhogg's scooter, appreciating how reflective and intuitive he was deep down. She's very glad that Alphinaud reminded her of her own values that had been eroded by cynicism and told her they had to save Estinien. Because yeah, he was right all along. Estinien did turn out to be good. Even if people suck today, you never know what they can be tomorrow. He's one of the few people she feels good about having saved because it was an instance where she didn't just stop a threat by being the champion of murder. Estinien was proof that change is possible and that sometimes, believing in that is worth the risk. So he means a lot to her not just as a person who's reliable, who's been through hell and back with her, who's grown so much and become one of the most introspective and insightful people she knows, but as a sort of proof of concept of the ethos she wants to live by.

-> Lyse. God, she loves Lyse so much. Having her around felt like having a sister again. I almost put the green mark up there, but I don't think Lyse reciprocates the feeling. Her surrogate sister was Moenbryda, a loss over which she opened up to and leaned on Talia in a way no one had trusted her with until that point. People asked her to run dangerous errands, sure, but Lyse trusted her with real, genuine, vulnerability and it was the fist time Talia felt like the Scions were more than just coworkers. Throughout Stormblood, Talia finally had someone who was on her level. The Scions are mostly Archons, all far more intelligent, well educated, and capable than she is. Lyse was just a girl who missed her sister and could hit things good and wanted to make a difference, just like Talia. More than that, she was fun. Her idealism and sincerity were infectious. And then Lyse left. She had ideas and dreams and aspirations and wanted to make them real. It was a worthy, understandable desire, but Talia was gutted by her choice even if she supported it. She loves getting to visit her and catch up, but she wishes she'd stayed.

-> Y'shtola. Mean goth girls with emotional walls who love to roast people, yes, they do bond over this. Beyond that, though, there's no one whose opinion Talia respects more than Y'shtola's. Full stop. She is the most capable, most reliable, and most honest person she knows. It's comforting to know that Y'shtola will hold everyone to the same standards she holds herself, even if it's a little intimidating how high those standards are and how easily she seems to meet them. And Y'shtola looks out for her just as much as Thancred does, albeit less tactfully. She was the only person who respected her enough to tell her the honest truth about the Light poisoning. Given her history, Talia always prefer a harsh truth over a comforting lie. But sometimes that harshness makes it hard for her to let herself open up around Y'shtola. Her competence is a double edged sword that hides her vulnerability, which is the measuring stick of intimacy. Y'shtola's so capable, Talia frequently doubts that there's anything she can offer her besides a good swordarm. Her affection is something Talia's had to learn to interpret, and something Y'shtola self-admittedly struggles to convey, but they're both important to each other and they're working on it.

-> Urianger. He was the Scion she took the longest to warm up to, due largely to his own self imposed isolation after Moenbryda's death and his continued deceptions in Heavensward and Shadowbringers. She thought he was pragmatic and useful, but cold. That opinion changed when she saw patient and gentle he was not just with the twins, but with kids in general. There was a warmth there she hadn't thought he was capable of and it helped make his lies easier to bear. When he broke down and confessed to his deceptions and expressed his remorse, his shame, she just... didn't have it in her anymore to hold that grudge. She'd been through enough of that with Minfilia and Emet-Selch. By Endwalker, she was a raw nerve on her last legs, and Urianger was as gentle and patient with her as he was with the kids they bonded over. When he finally, after years, opened up to her even a little bit about Moenbryda and his difficulties making connections, she felt safe enough to let him in and to be there for him. It took a while to get there, but they are, genuinely, very close, and she's asked him to help her with one of her biggest insecurities; learning magic, specifically healing.

-> G'raha Tia. There are few easy dynamics among the Scions, huh? G'raha is one of the people she admires most, but also someone who has left her a goddamn husk of a person composed only of tears and anxiety. First off, he is single handedly responsible for the second worst mental breakdown she's ever had, second only to the time her actual twin sister died. She was ready to kill him on the spot upon arriving in The First if he did not produce Alisaie and Alphinaud right then and there. It drove her insane how secretive he was while acting like some old friend. Finally seeing the scale of devastation he was fighting against with everything in his power, she started coming around. There was still anger but once she figured out who he was, all she could really do was pity him. He'd been so quick to throw his life away, appointing himself as the guardian of Allag's mistakes, protecting the world from the horrors of the tower, only to become a symbol that everyone pinned their hopes on. That felt familiar. And then when she realized that it was all for her, and that he intended to die to save her, all she could think about was losing Haurchefant. She maybe wrapped up a lot of that unresolved trauma and her issues of self worth in saving him. My favorite screenshot I ever took in this game is still this accidental moment of poetic cinema where she's holding his soul in her hands against her heart, enveloped by the memory of Haurchefant in the House Fortemps ring she never takes off.

That's it! That's their relationship! Got it in one! He is so compassionate and thoughtful and by his own merit, she cares for him deeply, but there is a LOT of baggage she's wrapped up around him. He's just as much a symbol to her as she is to him, someone she was finally, finally able to save who held this impossible idea of her in his mind's eye (Haurchefant, Emet-Selch). She cares for him very deeply and yeah, isn't oblivious to his... pretty obvious romantic idolization of her, but. Good lord. There are a lot of very difficult conversations they need to have in unpacking their baggage and the issues they keep projecting onto each other before they can even begin to discuss G'raha's crush and what to do about it. Until then, she just... kinda lets it be the elephant in the room and tries not to think about it.

-> Ryne. Talia was determined to be as kind to and supportive of Ryne as she wished she had been to Minfilia. When she saw how hard Thancred was on her, she stepped in to provide unwavering love and support, became her guide on living with the Blessing of Light that Minfilia had once been to her. She also maybe saw some of her younger self in this girl that she desperately wanted to nurture, as she wished someone had done for her. Talia's not quite a mother-figure to her,more of an aunt who knows what an asshole Thancred can be when he puts his mind to it and thus knows how to cheer Ryne up to console her through it. On her own merit, Talia thinks Ryne is one of the bravest, kindest, and most thoughtful young women she's ever known. She's so proud of the person she's becoming and is amazed by her resilience.

-> Alisaie. The only reason Alisaie is second to Y'shtola on Talia's list of people she respects is because Alisaie is still a child, and it would look really bad if her top advisor was 16. When it comes to knowing what's right though, Alisaie is always on mark. She cares so much about everyone all the time that the only way she can express it is rage at the universe for not being fair to those same people and then fixing it through the raw force of power that is Teenage Girl With A Chip On Her Shoulder. Alisaie is the most incredible person Talia knows and there is no one she is more proud to have earned the love and respect of, or whose development into her true self she is more proud to bear witness to. Alisaie's strength is also exactly why Talia has insisted on mothering her despite the girl's obvious desire for independence; because she'll never ask for that help when she needs it most.

-> Alphinaud. If Estinien is the proof of concept of the ethos she wants to live by, Alphinaud is the one who penned that ethos and embodies it on a daily basis. There is no one she loves more than this boy, she might try to mother Alisaie, but Alphinaud just is her son. He is the primary reason she held to hope in the gauntlet of despair that is Endwalker. Alphinaud has grown as much as she has, if not more, and they've gone through that growth together. Talia was a jaded malcontent when they first met, and Alphinaud, when he wasn't parading around like the Widdlest Dictator, was smug, condescending, and insufferable. And then the universe slapped him in the face with a humble pie and he lost faith in everything, himself most of all. Seeing him like that, she realized... oh fuck. Right. He's a child. And she'd been projecting her contempt at her own past naivete about Garlemald onto him. And maybe that wasn't fair. Maybe that was the same awful thing she'd done to Minfilia. So instead of taking him to task, she just hugged him and told him it was going to be okay. He'd messed up. He'd messed up real bad and people had died because he didn't realize how ugly the world was, but wanting to believe that better things were possible wasn't the mistake there. She knew exactly what that felt like and exactly what he needed from her that she never got from anyone, not even herself; forgiveness. She became very protective of him after that, desperate to preserve whatever innocence and hope he had left. And at the darkest point of the Dragonsong war, it paid off. Alphinaud realized that he'd internalized the wrong message about his grandfather's death; it isn't about what we're willing to sacrifice for some greater good, it's about what we want to save. It was something so obvious that she'd forgotten after she fell so hard from losing her faith in anything bigger than her own bloodied hands. He made her want to try to have hope again. By choosing to save Estinien, that boy saved her too, and the fucking world, and all creation. All by being his sweet, thoughtful, brave little self. She is stupid proud of him and loves him so much. She's his mom now. And I think given how much he relies on the WoL, how much more receptive he is than Alisaie to their concern for him and how he seeks them out for advice and comfort, the feeling's mutual.

[urnoflilliesandroses]

Light lies

[ Notice: this isn't conon to the Tcoaal game at all. I plan to write more of these cause why not. ]

Angel turned a page in her book. She was reading a book she managed to pawn off a man in robes. Her interest in Demonology had grown sense Mors came into her life making her feelings twist in a pleasant knot she didn't want to end. With Ashley and Andrew being codependent on each other gave her ample time to read.

Silence would make this all better. Unfortunately, her siblings won't give her this time to completely unwind. It was normal for arguments, fights, and dysfunction. Today Angel had it and went out to a place where she could be at peace for a minute. Only a minute.

She found Mors's form following her. He can sense her emotions. Her intentions; ever sense he chose her, they became more than Mors could had intended.

"Oleander? May I ask what's gotten to you so deep?"

"Ashley and Andrew are fighting over some shit. I couldn't take it anymore. I just wanted silence. I need silence to calm down or else I'll fucking loose it!"

"Now now," a hand rubbed Angel's back, "there's no need to have violent impulsive thoughts. Remember, we have to wait until your older. For now, we can runaway from them. All of them."

"I'm still questioning if I should. I got everything I need and then some. I just-"

"Want to bring them." Mors finished Angle's sentence. Killing her thoughts, "they wouldn't listen to you. Ashley would just use Andrew to get to you. Andrew would be picking at every decision you make. Why would you want to uproot them when they've only came to you to take? Would it be worth dealing with Ashley's fits? You wouldn't be able to reclaim what was yours."

"Percy...."

Her cat friend was killed. Ashley's dismissal echoed through her head. 'It was just a cat. Why are you so sensitive?' Ashley has always been cruel though Angel chalked it up from how she's been treated by their parents, specifically their mom.

"She didn't mean for it to hurt me. She didn't ever get love from mother or father. I just got ignored."

"Oleander. You've turned out different than her. What's her excuse?"

"mother and father don't love her. I at least have outside people. She has no one. Andrew is complicated in this. I'm not saying I don't love her but..," Angel curled into a ball, "I don't know how much I can take. I can't take care of them. I try so Andrew isn't doing everything."

"What do you choose?"

Angel thought in silence, "I choose me, Oleander."

"Very well then, let's go to our foundation. They'll be willing to help you. You're too young to be alone."

"Right!"

Angel didn't leave without a trace. A green for Andrew and pink rabbit for Ashley where left behind.

[dnangelic]

She tilts her head as she stares perhaps too fixedly upon his wings. She’s thinking. Slowly, like a cat about to start batting at their water, she reaches forward and gently brushes her finger along the edge of one particularly long looking one. Her eyes narrowing slightly as if it somehow didn’t fit with whatever puzzle she was trying to put together in her head.

“I don’t get it, it’s just a feather, isn’t it? Same as any pretty bird.” Ah, so he’s a pretty bird now, not that she noticed the little slip. She’s too focused on solving that little mystery of her own. “Do they get softer when it gets colder? Hawks was constantly shedding feathers when it got hotter so it makes sense if you’d have more in winter.”

@musedriven

and if there's any wing's twitch at her touch's arrival , then he can't help it . the rounds of his pupils cinch into thin little slits as he trains his gaze on her at first , a wordless suspicion accompanying his far more guarded observations . curiosity he could assuage and allow , yet the instant she might have took to plucking ( and thereby , without so much as a prior warning , injuring ) him , he might not have been so forgiving --- a bestial hackle-raise he tries to tuck away for the role of a gentleman .

ease steeps into the passing seconds when she remains gentle . soon enough , watching her mutely puzzle over his feathers draws out a small smile , and he can only wonder what she might have been thinking --- in a world like this , where what was purely human had practically lost its definition , was he still something so strange ? toga herself and alone was still adorable , no less . for an instant , his digits too twitch , seeming to unthaw before they come to life and the smooth , marble cold of his palm lifts to pat the top of her head . once , twice , then swift retracted before she could unleash any sort of feisty kitten's flail and sharp rake .

' --- that's right , it's just a feather . ' even if it sounded like a piece of absurdist humor : what had bewildered the populace of azumano for centuries had become something as simple as its reality before her . though , he doesn't dare to remark on the rest --- the same as any pretty bird , only he separates himself from even those , knowing himself ugly and gnarled and all too blackened even at his center . if it's a slip of toga's , then he too squeezes himself through the gaps between the remark and her following questions . he slips out and arrives at the other side without a word of remark , his ambivalence remaining unperturbed on every sharp , cool edge of his expression .

' summer and fall's already over . i don't know anything about anybody else , but i'd feel bad for anyone who's left featherless in the winter . ' his breath comes out cool in little white ghosts of fog , and behind him , close against his back in what pitch , warm mantle toga picks at , his feathers shiver a little then puff . ' the count stays the same , more or less ... the same for texture . i've never heard of anything or anyone who could make their feathers softer , but when you fluff them out like this , it's warmer and more comfortable . '

he doesn't indulge in any playful pouncing impulse that strikes him at first , and instead opens his arms to extend to her a polite offer . ' --- want to try it ? come in , i'll let you feel how warm it is for yourself . '

right in his embrace , if not between the curtain-comforters of his wings .

[kingsmoot]

ok i'm not sure if people aren't reading the post or if i wasn't being clear but the tags on this are driving me up the wall so let me break it down another way

i'm not saying that joff is a sweet delicate cherub who has never done anything wrong. this would be stupid and in direct opposition to the text.

agot, chapter 7, arya i

agot; chapter 9, tyrion i

we are told and shown as soon as joff is introduced that he's a git. he's haughty and proud and mean. he delights in violence and in cruelty. he is truly a little shit.

we are also shown that physical violence is a staple of the lannister household, and even the crown prince of the realm gets beaten:

agot; chapter 9, tyrion i

i could wheel this post around and talk about how normalized physical violence is in the lann fam:

acok; chapter 3, tyrion i

but i won't.

the introductory chapters of agot are very clear on who and what joffrey is. where tommen and myrcella are sweet babes, joff is a raging asshole. he is a brat prince. it's archetypal. he's a dick.

so that's what i'm not saying. i'm not saying that joff is a good sweet boy who has been lead astray by the conspirators who surround him. i am not cersei lannister.

what i am saying is that joffrey baratheon is a beaten and neglected little boy whose behaviors derive from the abuse of his parents (all 3), his grandfather, his uncle, and everyone at court who has failed at every step of the way throughout the whole of his very short life to care for him in the way that adults are responsible to care for children.

children need boundaries, something the crown prince of the realm was never given. it would be sort of silly i think to start raving about how child rearing in westeros could stand to be improved somewhat, so i'll focus on how the utter failure of the adults around joffrey to control his behavior is pointed out in the text. by characters who are living under the consequences of his brutality and should by rights have less perspective on this than you, person in the real world reading this at a distance.

agot; chapter 69, tyrion ix

tywin blames joffrey's ineffectual council for not guiding him sufficiently as he transitions from bratprince to boyking. tywin. not the most reasonable of guys expected to give out the benefit of the doubt to those who deserve it. and yet he is the one to tell tyrion explicitly that he blames the council for not curtailing the boyking's tyranny.

as a supplement, here's link to a post by @greenbloods and myself about joff's "impulsive" decision to kill ned after being counseled to let him take the black being littlefinger's idea: https://www.tumblr.com/kingsmoot/775141938411225088/probably-a-dumb-question-but-is-it-confirmed-in

acok; chapter 2, sansa i

even sansa, an eleven year old girl who is being beaten bloody on a daily basis after having her father murdered in front of her, points out to us that joffrey's kingsguard dole out the punishment he asigns them to dole out without stopping for a moment to think whether it is wrong or just or acceptable to backhand a little girl in a lobstered steel glove while you are a 30 year old superpro olympic athlete killing machine. yes, this is one of very many examples where sansa becomes disillusioned with the concept of chivalry and knighthood and defense of the weak. but it is also an instance where grown adult men with extreme physical power let a 13 year old boy command them to beat on an 11 year old girl. joffrey is their king, yes, and it is not their position to question him, yes. but is it unreasonable for the audience (us!) to conclude that it is bugfuck insane for this group of people to bow to the whims of a despotic pre-teen? no. it is not unreasonable, it is expected.

to provide a canon counter to this behavior from sers meryn, boros, oakheart, preston, and mandon, i'll ask you if you feel that ser barriston selmy, the recently dismissed and disgraced ex-commander of the kingsguard, would have followed these same orders.

i also think sweetrobin is a clear textual parallel to joffrey as another despotic boyking figure. joffrey is said by the lords who criticize him to be indulged too greatly by his mother. robert wants to send him away to foster as he was sent to the eyrie with ned, but cersei will not allow it. cersei is framed as the problem for being lax with joffrey and letting him do whatever he wants. and while cersei does see joffrey as beyond reproach, her perfect golden boy, i think the far greater problem is robert beating joffrey so badly cersei and stannis thought he'd killed him. or tyrion smacking him when he mouths off. or robert's open disdain of him that joffrey clearly feels very strongly even though robert acts like it's a secret.

to in-world observers, joff and sweetrobin are products of the same treatment at the hands of hovering, overindulgent, manchurian candidate mothers. but in reality, joffrey is both beaten and neglected, while sweetrobin is coddled. joffrey's behavior is a reflection of the violence of his household (from both the lannisters AND from robert) and an indulgence of the adults around him who have real physical power and weild it on behalf of a little boy's violent whims.

i have a greater problem, actually, with the responses to this post that claim joffrey is a monster (he is a child) or that there is something inherently rotten/wrong with him that maybe the abuse brought out, but he was just a baaaad apple to begin with, but i'm running out of images so i'll talk about that in a reblog.

joff is literally 13. how is this lost on the vast majority of asoiaf's audience. have you ever met a 13 year old? he's a 13 year old boy who was beaten and neglected. the fact that a traumatized child has the "power" to doll out life and death sentences is in fact a structural issue. the fact that a bunch of 30+ year old professional body guard attack dogs nod along and happily beat the living shit out of the 11 year old girl joff is engaged to is very pointedly not joff's fault. would you, tumblr user reading this, beat the shit out of a child if another child told you to? probably not, right? that would be fucking insane, right? you would feel that it was your responsibility to NOT beat the shit out of a child no matter what position the other child telling you to do so had above you, right? you know that the smallfolk of king's landing, who were literally being shot at and murdered by joff with his automatic crossbow, also said that it was the adults on the counsel's responsibility to reign in the boyking on the throne? ok well they are imaginary people being shot with an imaginary crossbow and you as the real flesh and blood audience have so much more perspective on this situation than them. OK, GOOD TALK.

[erabundus]

@marchingasone &&. said... katelyn grins to herself as she receives the message from ren. this is way too funny. so huh, turns out kami and ren aren't as close as she thought. she should've paid more attention, but it doesn't really matter. if she can work ren over that'd be twice as amusing, definitely something that would piss kami off. even more so, she can really twist things around in her favor. what harm is there in stretching the truth a bit? msg from katxgirlxoxo: oh, you know. we got drunk, we got high. we had sex. you probably don't want to hear all the details about your cousin, huh? gross lmao leaning back in her bed, katelyn decides to scroll through other profiles and pictures she has. pictures she's taken herself, or that were sent to her. there's one picture she's taken that she really needs to send out. that would also be funny. but before she does that, she's messaging ren again msg from katxgirlxoxo: why, are you interested? ;)

well,  she's  certainly  spot  on  about  ONE  THING  —  gross  is  right.  although  ren  would  argue  this  entire  conversation  has  been  nothing  less  than  utterly  repulsive.  the  impulse  to  block  itches  at  the  back  of  his  skull,  growing  STRONGER  with  every  passing  moment.  he  will  —  at  some  point.  for  the  time  being,  the  streamer  thinks  there's  a  chance  he  can  still  get  a  little  more  out  of  this.  even  if  the  thought  of  feigning  interest  makes  him  feel  sick to his stomach.

squeezing  both  eyes  shut,  ren  exhales  a  faint sigh  —  not  out  of  exasperation  (  though  he  surely  feels  it  )  but  rather,  in  an  effort  to  steady  himself.  it's  just  like  acting,  he  reasons.  no  different  from  the  sort  of  performance  he  puts  on  while  he's  streaming  —  sprinkling  in  honeyed  words  among  the  deluge  of  poison  to  keep  an  audience  CAPTIVATED.  the  real  him  is  far  too  ugly,  far  too  unappealing  to  be  unleashed  upon  his  followers  without  the  risk  of  rejection.  yet  if  he  simply  pretends  to  occasionally  reflect  the  scraps  of  interest  they  show  him  in  return,  it's  easy  enough  to  keep  them  HOOKED.  ren  thinks  it  should  be  no  different  here;  be  casual,  display  just  enough  interest  to  make  it  seem  genuine.  if  he  tries  too  hard,  she's  likely  to  figure  out  he  has  ulterior  motives  —  but  if  he  can  only  convince  her  he's  another  PAWN  to  be  taken  advantage  of,  there's a chance  he  might  actually  get  somewhere. ( or maybe he's wasting his time; that would be just his luck. )

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: yeah 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: lmao tmi, i'll just take your word for it

seriously; he's well aware he's making a disgusted face, even as he texts.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: but to answer your question 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: maybe?? 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: that depends whether you are 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: and where you're at ig

[jehuty00]

The basics - n°2 - Impulses (or drives)

What is an impulse ? My God, this question is important. An impulse is something that comes by itself, spontaneously. A movement that appears by itself. Example: The heart beats on its own, without the help of your will. Hunger grows by itself and imposes itself on the individual. The dream appears on its own, spontaneously, when the will is at its weakest level. The animals reproduce at the same time, depending on the heat season. The lion eats the gazelle, the gazelle grazes on the grass, and the man stands. In order for a newborn to appear, cells divide, multiply, then agglomerate in certain places, according to a very precise logic. And it all happens, again, on its own.

I have already guessed the answer to the following problem. But I have to say it explicitly. This is the problem: more often than not, drives are equated with subsistence alone, survival alone. This is how they are only brought back to the body, or to something gross. First, there is nothing gross about survival processes, or instinctive ones. Animals aren't perverse (I'll explain what perversion is one day). But above all, drives can exist in many states, many forms. Moreover, some impulses are more subtle than others, the problem being that in this case, it is difficult to notice their existence. But there is a perfect candidate to translate subtlety and omnipresence. I mean the dream of course. What is a dream if not something that comes by itself? When the one you think you are - the personality - has the least influence. The dream is like a secret, parallel life. Dreams are capable of producing situations, images, emotions, sensations of great beauty. Who has never been amazed by a dream? They are able to create things that you never thought you could imagine. Who has never learned, or had an idea based on a dream? Not to mention the mystery they arouse. So. We dream every day. And the dream drive cannot be explained by the survival of the body alone. And there are a plethora of other drives. Basically, everything that falls under the category of the unconscious belongs to it: missed acts, slips of the tongue, fantasies, desires, signs/synchronicities, trances... So many actions that go beyond our conscious self, which does not understand anything. Besides, let's use the category of the unconscious a little more to answer a question. Are impulses more subtle than thoughts? Of course yes. If some impulses are obvious, very visible, others are so subtle that we do not see them at all. This is also why we speak of unconsciousness when we consider the invisible drives of an individual. Example: You don't realize that every time a certain work colleague comes into your environment, you manage to walk away, you always have something to do. The truth is that you can't stand his presence, but you haven't admitted it to yourself because, in everyone's eyes, he's supposed to be nice. The thought, on the contrary, does not escape us. Be careful, the category of the unconscious is quite correct to designate individual drives, but the great drive reality easily goes beyond what concerns the individual. In fact, we find them all the time all around us. Men spawn on their own with two arms and two legs, trees spawn on their own, etc. These so-called natural phenomena create themselves, spontaneously. These are all impulses. Well, if you're smart, there's a big connection to be made with what's been said before. Note, you can also go in another direction. It doesn't matter, the only thing that matters is: the inner flame! If it's bubbling, whatever's bubbling, it's good! That's where the truth is, there and not elsewhere! So unlock the secrets of the universe! But eat a little something first.

Warning : this is a translation with google, and few corrections. But still, the text is full of mistakes. Sorry, I don't want to spend too much time to translate. Of course I'm not a native speaker, and my original work is in french.

Warning 2 : Every article is related to the others, so it's difficult to understand without reading everything in order. Look at the numbers to be chronological. Good luck.

[poisonvdhonvy]

Thomas figures he's walked right into her trap with the whole shoe thing. Classic rookie move. Analysing women's fashion choices never ends well, but here he is, diving headfirst into that minefield. She's got this way of turning his attempts at being smooth into comedy routines, and honestly? He's starting to dig it. The corner store rose comment hits different when she's got him figured out so completely. "Trust me, I've got zero interest in becoming a shoe expert. Though I gotta say, your defensive reaction is pretty telling." The whole mysterious guy act is totally falling apart, and maybe that's not such a bad thing. His dating playbook needs some serious updates anyway. "Y'know what? You're right. I'm about as mysterious as a golden retriever at a tennis ball convention." The admission feels weirdly good, like ditching uncomfortable shoes at the end of a long night. "And yeah, maybe I'm following some cosmic dating playbook without realising it. Sue me for trying to make a good impression."

Silver Sands is coming up fast, and he's already thinking about how this night could go down. His usual game plan is shot to hell, which might actually work in his favour. Her take on his predictability should probably bug him more than it does. "Challenge accepted. Though I'm starting to think you enjoy watching me dig these holes for myself." The fancy casino entrance reminds him of every movie scene where the guy tries too hard to impress his date. He's totally gonna be that guy tonight, but with a self-aware twist that hopefully makes it less cringe. The whole survival comment has him thinking she might actually be enjoying this disaster in progress. Pulling up to the valet stand, he's already plotting his next move. The hundred-dollar tip is definitely showing off, but whatever. Some clichés are worth the eye roll they're gonna get. Opening her door for her, he briefly winks and kisses her hand. The hand kiss is pure impulse, the kind of move that could either make the night or become tomorrow's embarrassing story. "Ready to see what kind of trouble we can get into? Promise I'll keep the shoe commentary to a minimum." He's banking on her finding his brand of try-hard charming rather than pathetic. The night's barely started, and she's already got him questioning every move while somehow making him enjoy the process. Silver Sands might be all about gambling, but he's pretty sure the biggest risk tonight is how much of his cool guy facade he's willing to let crumble.

Everything about this evening played out like a perfectly predictable Thomas production. One rose screamed last-minute decision, his entire approach built on the illusion of spontaneity. Numbers created patterns, and Thomas followed his own without realizing it - one rose, two rounds of drinks, three rehearsed explanations for why simple meant better. His script wrote itself in her mind before he spoke each line. People who claimed to be spontaneous usually calculated their chaos, measured their disruptions for maximum effect. Thomas proved no different, though his particular brand of controlled mayhem had its charms. The competitive edge in his voice when discussing drink rounds revealed more strategy than spontaneity. Time had taught her to read between lines, spot the deliberate in seemingly random choices. His fixation on her heels exposed another predictable tell - men always thought height equaled intimidation, missing the point entirely. "Save the sales pitch. One rose says procrastination, not statement," she said. The night stretched ahead with its familiar rhythm of challenge and response, each moment adding another layer to their ongoing game of strategic chaos.

"Bold move bringing up standards when your grand gesture came from a corner store." His persistent analysis of her shoe choices only confirmed her theories about his thought process. Every comment about intimidation factor revealed more about his mindset than hers. "You really want to analyze my shoe choices? Because that's a rabbit hole you might regret diving down." The car ride promised his usual mix of charm and calculated randomness, a dance she'd mastered long before he started playing it. Each supposedly spontaneous gesture followed its own logic - from the single rose to his theatrical defense of unpredictability. His attempts at mystery fell flat against years of experience reading people's intentions. The way he kept trying to position himself as unpredictable only made his patterns more obvious. Romance through chaos still followed its own rules, and Thomas played by every one of them while claiming to break them all. "Prove me wrong? That's adorable … but maybe focus on surviving round one before making promises you can't keep." The way Thomas kept promising to surprise her reminded her of every guy who thought being unpredictable meant ordering something different at the same restaurant. His whole "master of mystery" act belonged in a B-grade rom-com, complete with dramatic pauses and perfectly timed grins. Men always thought they were writing some epic story of spontaneity, when really they were following the same script with different props. At least Thomas made it entertaining - like watching someone confidently walk into a glass door while insisting they meant to do it.

[skaldish]

I saw your post about male intimacy and whatnot, and it made me want to share.

I don't know if it is gendered, but I assume it is (it could just be me) but something that makes that experience so much more oppressive is how American men are raised to handle emotion. From the very beginning you are shown that the worst thing a man can be is weak, and that emotions are weakness. So, without even realizing it, you strangle your emotions relentlessly, throttling your 'weak' responses and thoughts, until one day it doesn't bother you anymore. And then, once you realize that doing that was unhealthy, you find that the reason it stopped bothering you is that the process is so subconscious now that you don't know what you are feeling anymore. Unless it is a societally approved emotion like rage or joy (how horrid that rage fits in here) you just can't tap into how you feel. You have reactions and then later you say, "Oh, I think I acted that way because I was sad."

I'm putting this in on anon because I don't have the courage to be seen, as a man, putting this forward in my own voice. It's weak. I feel ashamed even typing this, but something is pushing me forward. And worst, I consider myself well-adjusted compared to lots of my male peers. This is a tragedy that we have been conditioned to perpetrate against ourselves.

Thanks for your post. It kindled something in me that feels very important. I wish you the best on your journey.

You're welcome.

I've only just begun to experience what it's like to be perceived as male, because I hormonally transitioned during the pandemic.

But for what it's worth, maybe I can try to provide some context for what it is you guys are going through.

(Disclaimer: I'm not a psychologist.)

So, I'll start by pointing out this terrifying thing: Every last ask given to me by cis men (which are many!) describes male conditioning the same way my followers who grew up in religious cults describe their religious brainwashing.

Yes. Actually.

Take a moment to swap "being weak" with "sinning," the word "man" with the word "Christian," and "emotions" with the word "doubt," and you will have something extremely close to the same thing.

The same way cults enact undue influence on their followers, it seems like American culture enacts undue influence on men.

I'm also someone who has complex lifelong traumas and was successfully treated for them, so I can tell you that I intimately know the feeling of:

"I want to act on this authentic impulse, but I can't seem to make myself do that because I'm fucking terrified the rejection will be too much to handle."

This is what my EMDR therapist described as "programming and conditioning." This is something that's learned by a very deep part of the brain, one that controls our basic survival. This part always overrides our higher thinking because it's evolutionarily designed to do so, for our protection and survival. Even if we want to act differently, we can't because of how our brains work.

But I'm telling you this here and now, as a man who grew up as a woman��this fear of weakness you have looks more like a programmed thing than a masculinity thing. Because I actually feel WAY more comfortable expressing my softer and shyer side now that I'm on T and presenting masculine.

Also, the compulsion to shove down your emotions or do things that "fight against the weakness," is behavior that looks striking similar to the way cult-members use affirmations or certain activities to self-indoctrinate. Self-indoctrination soothes the brain and stops it from doubting or questioning the views of the cult.

(Come to think of it, shoving things down is also how the Boomer generation goes about ignoring their traumas, as if that somehow doesn't come out sideways in every interaction they have.)

I guess the point I'm trying to make is this:

It's not that this just "sucks." This is literally actually trauma.

I can't even begin to describe to people the awful, gaping, howling, wordless wound that's inflicted by lifelong, early-childhood trauma. It is a yawning and cavernous need that sits at the very bottom of your soul. It feels like you're always mourning the loss of someone you love, but you don't even know who. And nothing you do ever seems to remotely reach it, let alone give it what it's crying out for.

Good gods, it took me months and months of extremely difficult and specialized therapy to uncover that starving part of myself. Sure, I am never able to change the fact I had been so hurt—but I did finally get to feed that starving part of myself.

What I'm saying is, the healing is possible and the affects of the wound can be nullified.

I think the more people destigmatize treating mental health, the more awareness and availability there will be for these kinds of things.

I genuinely want everyone who's AMAB to know that struggling with this kind of thing is brutally hard, is NOT a sign of weakness, and IS something you can justify treating as trauma, rather than a moral failing.

People want to be intimate with people and that's simply just a human thing, not a gender thing.