#instead of just accepting that a balance of both needs to exist

[vintage-bentley]

Let’s apply this to other groups.

Should POC be allowed spaces that exclude white people? Should trans people be allowed spaces that exclude cis people? Should Muslims be allowed spaces that exclude non-Muslims? Should disabled people be allowed spaces that exclude able-bodied people? Etc. Etc. You could make the argument for any one of these that they’re wrongfully excluding well-meaning allies, possibly even the family of those attending the event. You could claim that it’s alienating to both those allies and those who want to bring them along.

But when it comes to any oppressed group other than women, nobody argues against exclusive spaces. And if they do, they’re rightfully viewed as ignorant (think white people complaining about not being allowed to join a black student’s union).

When it comes to anyone other than women, it’s generally understood that exclusive spaces for oppressed groups exist for many reasons. One might be wanting to find community with those who share your experiences. Another might be wanting to have conversations about these experiences without feeling pressured to change the way you speak about them for the comfort of outsiders (many women know that conversations about women’s experiences are very different depending on if there’s a man in the room. For example, talking about periods).

Why is it that this understanding suddenly disappears when we’re talking about women?

We can absolutely argue that there should be events open to everyone, because I agree that no progress can be made if we just shut everyone out all the time. But exclusive spaces are important too. Audre Lorde and any other woman who wants to bring men along to feminist spaces needs to accept that some spaces just aren’t suited for that. Some feminist spaces need to be for women only, and some need to be an open event for everyone. A balance can and should exist, because both of these spaces are important for different reasons, and achieve different things. We need both, not one or the other.

You all realize Feminists have been critiquing "women only spaces" for decades right?

I think often about Audre Lorde's critique of a women only event that welcomed her wife and daughter, but not her son. Because she questioned it - the function and purpose of barring even the sons of Feminist women from Feminist events. Especially the barring of her young Black son, who would otherwise be left alone in the city where he would be more prone to the very violence those same Feminist women claimed to want to change.

Because what functional, forward thinking Feminist purpose does it actually serve to do that? What message does that send to women with sons, husbands, brothers, lovers, friends, who want to involve the men and boys in their lives in their activism? Who want to build a functionally better world for us all outside of the oppressive grasp of Patriarchy? Especially for the marginalized men who often sit at their own intersection violent Patriarchal oppression, that still happens to be Patriarchal oppression despite it not being distinctly misogyny?

What purpose does it truly serve to sequester yourself away into a pocket of the world, detached from those you share it with? What bright and shining future does that really promise you?

[justmeforeverlive]

Across the universes

Hi! This my first fic dedicated to the MCU fantastic four. It's set in the multiverse of madness. Mainly Johnny x reader but it'll include the rest of the FF. Enjoy!

You were fighting along side Dr. Strange, trying to stop Wanda from getting the Darkhold, opening portals left and right that lead to different universes, the situation was escalating quickly. You almost got a hold of the book, when a red blaster from the former Avenger sent you flying from a cross the room. While losing consciousness, the Scarlet Witch voice echoed in your mind:

¨If you knew there was a universe where you were happy, wouldn’t you wanna go there?¨

A bright white light was the first thing you noticed when you came to it, the second thing was a funny looking machine hooked onto your arm. Pushing your body forward, the hospital room came into view. Why were you there? Did the fight ended up so bad you couldn’t remember getting to the hospital?

You were so focused in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear the door opening

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m glad to see you’re awake, I’m doctor Roan and I’ve been treating you since your arrival”

“How long have I’ve been here?

“3 days, you didn’t suffer major injuries that we could detect but the fact it took so long for you to regain full awareness, is enough to be concerning, so we’re gonna be taking some tests if that is okay with you?

You accepted in hopes to leave faster, but before reaching the door, doctor Roan said:

“By the way, we’ve called your family, they must be here in any moment”

That sentence was enough for all the alarms in your head to start ringing. You had no family left, that’s why Stephen Strange was willing to take you in as his apprentice/side kick, so either they are confusing you with someone else or the most likely option: you were in one of the many alternative universes Wanda had unleash during the fight.

Fuck, you had leave this place immediately, the more time you spend in another reality, the more consequences it would bring to the natural order. Carefully you unwrapped yourself from the hospital stuff and were about to use some of it to make it out of the window, when a loud gasp made you turn.

A blonde woman had rushed to your side, preventing you from successfully escaping the room. You tried to brushed her off gently but your body was still sluggish after spending days laying on a bed, so instead of freeing yourself from her grasp, all you managed to do was loosing balance and both of you ended on the floor.

“Ow, Y/N, are you OK? Can you stand? Her voice was slightly panicked due to your lack of response, she turned her head and said:

“Johnny, don’t just stand there, come help me!”

The guy in question was frozen in place, looking at you in disbelief and if the whole situation wasn’t as freaky as it was, you might have blushed by having such a handsome man staring at you.

Sensing the awkwardness, a change of tactic seemed to be needed, so maybe if you deflected enough, they’ll go away.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine really, just a little out of it, but I’ll sleep it off. Maybe you can come back tomorrow”  

She frowned, apparently that was the wrong thing to say

“Y/N, we’re not gonna leave you here alone, we were so worried about you” she tried to reach for a strand of your hair but the sudden movement made you flinch. She seemed hurt by your reaction but it was quickly replaced with suspicion.

“You… know who we are right?”

A beat passed. The blue eyed guy seemed to finally catch up with the conversation cause he sat right next you and studied your face carefully.

“You don’t remember me?” He sounded so devastated, like a piece of him had been ripped apart, staring at you in hopes of rekindling a sense of recognition that simply doesn’t exist.

“I’m sorry”

[urfavleo777]

warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol

"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"

You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.

"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.

You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.

Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.

You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.

Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.

"If not now, never, right?"

After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.

"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"

"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.

Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.

"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"

The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.

"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."

"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.

***

"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"

You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.

"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."

"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.

"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"

"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says: 

"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."

"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.

You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.

The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.

12:00. Carpe diem.

 "It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n." 

***

"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"

"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client." 

And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."

You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him. 

"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.

"Angel's wings." 

He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.

"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."

"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."

"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"

"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.

"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"

"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."

"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice. 

"Thanks," you hang your head.

"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.

"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.

"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"

"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.

"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him. 

"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.

You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.

The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.

***

You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.

He hums to himself. "Those are nice."

You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.

He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.

There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.

You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.

He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"

And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"

"A safeword. It's big."

W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.

"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"

[fan-a-tink]

had a vision.

Dead Boy Detectives - the core four

I wanted this to be a purely aesthetic post, but in the process of making the gifs I've had some thoughts, so here you go: Seeing the core four's "action shots" all side by side made me realise that they each kind of represent their character's journey as well.

We've got Charles, who is taking back control, hitting back. He acts as the protector he would have needed when he was alive, but also he is defending and protecting someone close to him, no longer helpless in the face of abuse and violence. And his strength comes from a point of defense, not aggression like his father. He's very much not a bad guy, but the literal hero of the shot.

Then there's Edwin running from a WWI soldier and going through the looking glass, jumping from one world to the next, pushing through his own reflection (and how people have bullied and killed him for perceiving him as effeminate and queer) and finding his queerness on the other side, landing on his own two feet, balanced and steady, having found this whole new world of feeling and acceptance on the other side. Edwin, my beloved.

Crystal (aaahhh I could write a thesis on Crystal, honestly) who is being thrown off balance and into limbo, existing between two lives while she is searching for her stolen memories. She's is constantly being pulled in two directions, between her past and her future, between David the demon and the cute ghost distraction, between letting go of toxic relationships and embracing her new found family.

And then Niko, Niko is just ascending.

credit for the Charles gif goes to @mellxncollie

Ok and if you're still reading, here's another thing I noticed while making these "action shot" gifs - both Charles and Edwin are very much agents of these actions in their shots, while things are done to Crystal and Niko. Charles throws and catches the cricket bat, initiating and controlling the action. Edwin jumps through the mirror, he is the one who maneuvers himself through. But Crystal is pushed by David, falls through the floor, off balance and out of control, and she is caught by Charles. And Niko is being lifted up by the sprites who have taken control of her body. I think it's a neat way to show a gendered division within the core four, but also both girls move beyond their initial helplessness/passiveness and become real freaking badasses, while the boys later on get their fair share of having things happen to them instead. And in the season finale it's Crystal and Niko who save our two ghost damsels in distress. I don't know where I'm going with this, it was just something I noticed and I thought you guys might have some more eloquent and coherent thoughts.

[fantastic-nonsense]

I think people who genuinely wanted Percy to rebel against the gods and overthrow the system kind of...miss the whole point of the series

The question is not whether or not the gods deserve to rule; the books are kind of unambiguous that they don't! That the gods are generally undeserving of their children's loyalty is the one thing that Percy and Luke both agree on! But PJO is less about divine right to rule vs. ruling via consent of the governed and more about improving dysfunctional family systems. It's not about whether unfair rulers deserve to continue ruling; it's about forcing the gods to be better, fairer rulers and a better, fairer family given limited alternatives.

Because what are the alternatives, as presented to us within the scope of the original PJO series?

Option 1: allow Kronos to topple Olympus and take over. Clearly not a viable alternative for all of the reasons the books show us.

Option 2: the demigods overthrow the Olympians and rule the world themselves. Okay. How's that going to work out long-term, given demigods are mortal and cannot control or protect their parents' domains? Demigods will die out within a generation or two, so that's potentially a one-generation short-term solution, and then everyone's right back where they started. Except worse, because now the world has been out of divine balance for a century and the gods have a completely legitimate bone to pick with all demigods. Materially worse outcome.

Option 3: demigods ignore the gods and their will entirely. They integrate into the mortal world, refuse to participate in quests or talk to their parents, and pretend prophecies don't exist. Except that's clearly not a viable option, since we see that demigods usually can't safely exist in the mortal world without monsters coming after them, the gods are cruel enough to use blackmail and engage in hostage situations to get demigods to act as heroes, and prophecies have a way of coming true regardless of everyone's best attempts to circumvent them. Again: materially worse outcome.

And for Percy, for the demigods at Camp Half-Blood, for Luke and for everyone else who defected....for the most part, they don't actually have an inherent problem with the gods ruling them. They just want to be acknowledged, valued, and loved by their families, to be treated as more than a tool for their parents to wield whenever their services are needed. That was the core thesis of the demigod rebellion, which was wholly separate from Kronos' specific motivations for overthrowing the Olympians, and it's why Percy's asks at the end of TLO were what they were.

The point was always that had Percy grown up in a slightly more dysfunctional family environment...had he grown up with Frederick Chase's seemingly conditional love or May Castellan's madness instead of Sally Jackson's steady, quiet, unconditional love...he could have turned out like Luke. Like Ethan. Like the dozens of demigods who defected from camp to join Luke's cause. Percy could have turned out just as a bitter and angry and vengeful. Just as ready to tear down the system. Just as willing to betray and kill his own family for the sake of making a point.

But instead, Percy openly reprimands the gods for abandoning their families and using them as cannon fodder in their own petty disagreements. He forces them to acknowledge and claim their children. He demands that everyone who is part of the godly family be recognized and accepted, not just those related to the Twelve Olympians. He asks for those unjustly punished (like Calypso) to be set free and accepted back into the family. Because that's the point at the end of the day: not forcing bad rulers to step down, but changing an insanely dysfunctional family system that the gods and demigods are all members of into a better, safer, and more accepting environment for demigods to grow up and live in.

Overthrowing the gods wouldn't solve the problem at the heart of the series, which is the gods' shitty parenting and family management skills. It would only exacerbate the massive familial fault-lines that Kronos exploited and leave the demigods open to more godly manipulation. Which is why the series ends as it does, with Percy using his wish to tangibly improve the lives of his family instead of selfishly improving his own life (via accepting immortality/godhood) or overthrowing the gods. Because the conflict isn't about the gods as rulers. It's about the gods as parents.

PJO's core thesis is Percy, who grew up knowing unconditional familial love, looking at this whole world of children who didn't and saying "that's not fair. Gods should be better than this!" But instead of destroying them the way Luke wants to, instead of overthrowing them and putting himself on the throne, he instead challenges them to be better parents and family members. To be part of the solution instead of the problem. And Percy's demands don't solve everything, but they were necessary first steps! Without forcing the gods to acknowledge a bare minimum floor of inclusion, the cycle would simply begin all over again the next time a major conflict popped up.

So that's the problem Percy solves and how he successfully fulfills the prophecy: by believing that the gods had the capacity to change and forcing them to break the cycle of familial abandonment, he preserves Olympus and takes the first steps towards a new status quo, one that is objectively better for demigods than the one he grew up in. That's why he succeeds, and it's why Percy overthrowing the gods would have made for a much less satisfying ending than what actually happened.

[the-ineffable-dance]

Throughout both seasons of Good Omens, I adore watching how Aziraphale and Crowley show their love for each other. They each have a different set of needs that the other knows about and validates... Crowley is big on giving Aziraphale Acts of Service. Aziraphale leans more towards Physical Touch.

But one thing that they both give the other is possibly the most important for our two man shaped beings... Words of Affirmation.

It's easy to see when Crowley does this for Aziraphale, and I think it's quite easy to see when Azi both needs those words and also how dramatically he responds to them.

He doesn't just enjoy Crowley praising him... he needs it. Heaven has been brutal to Aziraphale. They have never had a kind word for him... instead they belittle him and mock him at every turn.

Imagine that THIS is what you are given for thousands and thousands of years. No matter what you say, no matter what you do, THIS is the response. Nothing is ever good enough. EVER.

And then, you meet a demon. And he listens to your ideas. He sees you for who you are. And he never mocks you. He listens. He accepts you. And he tells you that you're doing good things, that you're smart, that you're clever. That you have value.

Look at that face!!! Look how much it means to him! Even with six thousand years together, Aziraphale is ready to be mocked, and when Crowley encourages him, it is everything!

Even waaaaay back, in the Garden. They hardly knew each other, and yet already we have this affirmation that Aziraphale desperately needs.

What might be more difficult to see is how Aziraphale gives Crowley Words of Affirmation that HE needs just as much. It's much more subtle, but Crowley needs them, and Aziraphale provides.

Crowley's entire existence is a delicate balancing act. Inside, he is at heart a good person. He didn't lose that in his Fall like many of the other demons. We can see his kindness in a thousand small ways... his concern for children, his love of Aziraphale, following Hell only as far as he can... But imagine. He's a demon of Hell. Surrounded by people who think words like kind, nice, love are "four letter words." And the punishment for that kindness is not just mockery, but it's physical, brutal. How easy would it be to lose those parts of yourself just out of pure survival?

And then, you meet an angel. And he sees you for who you are, deep down, all the little things that you had to hide away. And he says it out loud, so you know that he sees it and accepts it and appreciates it. And he helps keep those parts of you you cherish alive.

Aziraphale is the only person that validates those parts of Crowley. And even if Crowley reacts negatively to it either out of fear that they're being listened to or even just habit, he still hears it.

Okay, he reacts REALLY badly to it... but Aziraphale never stops saying it, either. He knows deep down just how much Crowley needs him to say it.

Kind, nice, these are the most common of Aziraphale's Words of Affirmation... but there is one that I think Crowley needs the most... the one that he himself brings up the least... the fear that as a demon he is truly unforgiveable. He is unreliable when describing his Fall through out the series, and I see that as a sign that it is something that eats away at him. No demon gets forgiven. Period.

But Aziraphale forgives him. Offers it to him over and over. (Ignore the final offer of forgiveness in S2... those circumstances are out of the ordinary).

And when Aziraphale offers his forgiveness, I don't think that he's limiting it to whatever the surface reason is. Look at him... that's the face of someone who is trying to put as much meaning behind his words as he can. To reach that core of self-doubt that Crowley hides away, and ease the ache that is there. "You can be forgiven. You are worth forgiving. I forgive you, even if no one else does." We see throughout the series the forgiveness that Aziraphale offers start off pretty broad, and moves more and more intimate... from "May God forgive you" to "May you be forgiven" to finally "I forgive you." He refines his words until he finds what Crowley needs.

For both of them, the Words of Affirmation that the other provides is such an important part of their relationship! I'm thinking that soon I'll take a look at some of the other Love Languages that they use throughout the series. Until then!

[burst-of-iridescent]

Writing a Final Battle: Kung Fu Panda vs ATLA

every day i think about how the po & shen battle at the end of kung fu panda 2 is everything the aang & ozai battle at the end of atla should have been and get frustrated at the wasted potential all over again.

i’ll cut the show some slack in that the personal nature of po & shen’s relationship was never going to be possible in atla given the 100 year time jump, and that ozai himself wasn’t personally responsible for the air nomad genocide, which naturally undercuts their individual connection. but given that the final agni kai fulfilled the character-based conflict of the finale anyway, it fell to the aang-ozai battle to represent the thematic one, and it fell incredibly short where kfp 2 absolutely delivered.

it’s threaded throughout the narrative of the movie that po and shen are two sides of the same coin: black and white, yin and yang, goodness and madness. they both see themselves (po in kfp 2, at least) as orphans, plagued by fears that they were abandoned and unloved. both flee from a past they’re too afraid to face, tormented by wounds they believe won’t heal, shackled to a destiny they refuse to give up. the existence of one threatens the survival of the other; shen is foretold to be defeated by a warrior of black & white, while po cannot be the dragon warrior, the title that gave him a home and identity and belonging, in a world without kung fu — the world that shen is trying to create.

even without po’s personal connection to shen as the one responsible for his mother’s death and the loss of his community, thematically the two mirror each other perfectly. and it is this mirroring that makes the moment of their divergence so impactful and essential to the narrative: that while po stops running from his past, shen is never able to do so. it’s in making the choice to accept what happened to him & find peace in who he is that po triumphs over shen, and so illustrates the themes of the movie perfectly: that your past need not determine your future. that you cannot avoid your destiny, but you can shape the road you take to meet it, and that choice is yours and yours alone.

where po exemplifies the choice for peace, for healing, for acceptance, shen represents the choice to perpetuate violence, pain, self-loathing — and the brutal, inevitable self-destruction waiting at the end of that path. a classic writing technique for a thematic conflict, executed brilliantly: to have the hero and villain rise or fall by the virtues they stand for.

now compare this to aang and ozai.

i’ve talked before about how this battle fails from a character perspective for aang, but it also fails thematically as a result. following the constructed narrative up to the southern raiders, what should have happened in this battle was aang winning because he drew wisdom from different places, using bending techniques and knowledge from all four nations, and ozai losing as a consequence of his own destructive pride and reliance on firebending alone. instead, the unity vs individualism, balance vs domination theme set up from the start with the idea of the avatar falls completely by the wayside as the battle focuses on air nomad pacifism vs fire nation violence instead — an unsubstantiated, last minute ass pull of a conflict chucked in for no good reason.

but fine, we’ll bite. it’s not a bad conflict, in theory, just poorly set up. the execution might still have worked, if not for the fact that a) the means of this pacifism is entirely unearned and b) the choice to save ozai’s life is not about ozai at all, but about aang.

po’s victory feels earned because not only did the movie set the means of this victory up well in advance — introducing the chekhov’s gun of the dew drop and inner peace in the first ten minutes — it also perfectly aligned his external conflict (defeating shen) with his internal conflict (coming to terms with the pain of his past). in other terms, it’s the classic Want vs Need: po’s want (saving kung fu) is only achieved through first meeting his need (accepting who he is and where he came from, in its entirety).

aang, on the other hand, is given the solution to his external conflict through lion turtle ex machina, and Rock of Mega Convenience, neither of which was found as a result of his own choices or autonomy. it’s like if po showed up at the final battle with shen having skipped the entirety of the scene at the soothsayer’s, and yet is able to redirect the metal balls anyway because… well who the fuck knows, just go with it.

and that’s bad enough, except then it’s compounded by the fact that aang gets his Want (maintaining his people’s values & his moral purity) by doing… uh… *checks notes* Fucking Nothing. there is no Want vs Need here at all; aang didn’t have to sacrifice anything, or undergo any internal struggle, to receive the power of energybending. (and no, being “pure of heart” in order to energybend doesn’t count — a potential moral decline or losing air nomad values through assimilation to a changed world was never an arc set up for aang, and so cannot be counted as a feasible Need.)

and as the cherry on top of this clusterfuck of terrible writing comes the moment where aang chooses to spare ozai, a scene intended to convey the triumph of the air nomads’ compassion and pacifism over the fire nation’s brutality, a scene meant to have incredible pathos and meaning… and which accomplishes neither of the above.

po trying to spare shen is genuinely moving because the scene is framed around shen. it’s about the fact that despite every terrible thing shen has done — in that moment po sees in him only someone as lost and confused and pained as he was, someone clinging to a grand destiny to cure, in vain, the wounds of the past. someone po himself might have been in another life, another time. po’s compassion is for shen and shen alone, with no ulterior benefit to himself, and you get the sense that deep down — at least for a moment — shen wants to believe in the kindness and hope po is offering. that’s what makes it genuine and gives the scene such gravitas.

by contrast, the scene between aang and ozai is framed around aang, not ozai. aang is the one who wants to spare ozai. aang is the one who benefits from leaving ozai alive, because he doesn’t need to sacrifice his morals or beliefs. aang is the one getting his wish, not ozai — who would likely choose death over defeat and losing his bending anyway. this isn’t helped by the fact that the fire lord is inherently a far less tragic & compelling figure than shen because a) he exists largely as an antagonistic force than a character in his own right for most of the series, and b) aang and ozai don’t have an existing relationship to add depth to this moment, the way zuko and azula do.

as such, the one-sided nature of the conflict only strengthens the impression that saving ozai’s life is all about what aang wants, not ozai — which makes the message of the scene seem a lot more “if you’re the hero, you’ll get everything you want with absolutely no cost or consequences” and a lot less “compassion always triumphs over cruelty” (which was probably the intention).

ultimately, the po vs shen battle works where aang vs ozai fails because:

1. the themes embodied by the characters manifest beautifully in their individual arcs, and in their eventual victory and defeat, respectively

2. they contrast each other thematically and narratively, and their individual endings are earned through their own agency from start to finish, with their external conflicts being linked to and resolved through their internal character struggles

3. the set up of the conflict is carefully planned and thoughtfully executed, and the payoff follows through perfectly every step of the way

tldr: kung fu panda will always be the superior asian-inspired fantasy about a chosen one confronting his destiny as the saviour of the world & the day we can acknowledge as a society that po’s character arc is a thousand times better and more well-written than aang’s is the day i will finally know peace.

[honeycreammilkshake]

Reading your anons and your answers I think the problem with those fans is that they only accept a character if it's involved with satoru.

Like, apparently you are not allowed to like Sukuna anymore nor like both yuji and sukuna, but you were only allowed to like AND analyze Sukuna when he was fighting Satoru loool

I'm sorry but Sukuna is more than that, sukuna doesn't need THAT fight to be a character in his own, Sukuna also kept analyzing and having cool moments with other characters, just because your favorite character was dead doesn't mean other things stopped existing. This is one of those cases where fans keep thinking the manga is about some secondary character

hi, anon. thank you so much for this ask. i'm going to follow this up by making an unnecessarily long and ranty post nobody's going to bother to read, but i felt the overwhelming need to go in-depth for this anyways. apologies for the length of this.

to start off, i'm going to point out something that will probably get me a lot of hate or at least criticism from gojo fanatics, but i think it should be said for all those out there who keep twisting jkk to fit their own problematic concept of morals.

so we all know sukuna is the big bad of jjk. he's the main antagonist, the evil cannibal monster, a god of chaos and apathy and murder. i'm not here to argue against this, though. it's been clear from the beginning sukuna is a true villain in all of his actions and beliefs. however, we really need to look at the contexts behind how he became such a monster and consider if he's actually the most "evil" sorcerer/curse in the jujutsu world or not.

i'm going to address the underlying problem with the pro-gojo/anti-sukuna fans who twist the story to suit their own views first.

so gojo was born with a tremendous amount of power, so much that he's been branded the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the modern age. he literally shifted the flow of cursed energy and from the start was set apart from others. it's truly terrifying how much power he has...

so it's a good thing he's a real sweet and caring guy, right?

if only.

gojo is irredeemably self-absorbed, unhealthily egotistical, obsessed with his own abilities, demeaning and insulting to others, brutal to his students and dismissive of their safety, and more than willing to commit mass murder.

when fighting with jogo, for example, he doesn't seem bothered at all by the massacre of innocent people during their battle, and is even willing to sacrifice bystanders all in the name of winning.

he's displayed this same kind of general apathy for the lives of others in his past as well.

in his past arc, it was geto who saved gojo from becoming an actual villain and instead managed to set gojo on the path of becoming the slightly less evil antihero he is today. however, after riko's death, the experience turned both of them on each other as they settled on opposite sides of "good vs evil."

without geto there to guide him, though, gojo would have easily lost his way and turned evil .... so where was a person like that for sukuna?

the jujutsu world is extremely heartless and obsessed with strength. the jujutsu higher-ups were willing to kill yuuji - an innocent teenager who just happened to become dangerously involved with the world of curses and the host of sukuna - as well as risk the health and safety of countless others, sorcerers and normal people alike. the whole jujutsu world is full of corruption and cold, cruel people.

but this is just in the modern world - during the golden age of jujutsu, in the heian era, conditions were even harsher and crueler than they are now. during this time, existence for regular people in japan was demanding, quality of life was very low, and so many died of sickness and starvation. the amount of curses that arose from all this suffering was immense and required the extreme powers of sorcerers to balance it out.

this is the context of sukuna's birth. he came into this world as a child of a starving mother and he himself would have starved if he didn't consume his twin in the womb.

during his conversation with kashimo, who asks if sukuna was born with that much power or if he gained it throughout his life, sukuna himself seems to not know. all he can say is... he was an unwanted wretch.

societal demands and religious fights back then would have led to an overwhelming stigma and dehumanization of anything that people feared or didn't understand... which probably means that sukuna, who was able to be born from the act of eating his own unborn twin, was seen as monstrous from the day of his birth on. and if he was indeed born with such strength and a body merged with that of his twin's, or at least the compacity to become that, he was also most likely villainized for his nature as well.

where gojo was more embraced and highly coveted by the jujutsu world, the world sukuna was born into most likely shunned him and led him to adapt the kind of mindset he has now.

sukuna sees strength as the only means of survival, rising above the cruelty shown to him to become the cruelest himself. this philosophy, which a lot of people at this time believed in - especially in the jujutsu world - shows us that sukuna probably saw his own really option to endure was to become a monster. those at the top are above all the weak feelings and suffering of the ones beneath, after all, or so he believes.

and it seems like so many of the strongest sorcerers still believe in that concept as well. both yorozu and gojo thought they could reach sukuna by challenging him, but in the end... only yuuji ever connected with the king of curses.

(yes i will fit sukuita in here... even if you don't ship them romantically, it's an undeniable fact that their relationship is much more complex than it seems and that yuuji does in fact care for the very monster he's supposed to destroy.)

when sukuna's dying in chapter 268, yuuji makes it clear that he's willing to serve the kind of caring, understanding role in sukuna's life that was most likely never given to him.

instead of dehumanizing sukuna, yuuji actually accepts that sukuna turned out to be the monster he is and says it was all a matter of chance how they became like this.

this a level of empathy, intimacy, and compassion that someone like gojo (and pretty much the vast majority of jjk characters) could never show. sukuna himself seems at a loss for words for this unbelievably caring treatment from yuuji - he's even surprised enough to use the brat's full name.

and i dislike that fans are starting to twist this interaction between them to make it fit their own views of sukuna and gojo.

look, i like gojo objectively. he's a fine enough character and serves an important role in jjk. i'm not against him or his fans, and i certainly don't want to hurt or make light of other people's feelings towards him. however, i do want to point something out that some fans should really know better. so many antis are against us sukuita shippers and/or sukuna fans and their main argument, over and over again, is how evil and monstrous sukuna is and that gojo is obviously better in every way. they claim that because gojo is on the side of good, it means sukuna is the worst in terms of morals (when villains like kenjaku are arguably just as terrible if not more so but dismissed so easily) we are delusional or wrong for sympathizing with sukuna.

so i would like to say to these people... please stop using these pallid, baseless arguments against us sukuna lovers because they're just so inaccurate and keep misunderstanding the whole story. it's more than okay to have your own headcanons and depictions of a fictional character, whether they're sukuna or gojo or any of the others - but do not force that depiction on others and do not force your interpretation of the source material on us just to appease your own opinions.

please be more respectful to others, please keep your own dislikes to yourself instead of lashing out at other fans you could instead just avoid, and please stop being so mean to gege. whether or not he makes gojo return should not be a reason to spread such hate about him. it's disrespectful towards both him and all writers who work so hard to make the content you treat so harshly.

thank you.

[theshadowrealmitself]

Today’s sad thoughts: A Peter Parker/Spiderman variation who’s run into a ton of alternate universe versions of themselves when they were young and barely starting out as Spidey

And because even tho they’re alt dimensions/universes and stuff, there’s still some things that stay the same, like being friends with Harry even if in most universes the friendship falls apart before they reconcile, being close with MJ and Gwen whether they end up dating or not, Aunt May getting to see them grow up till at least they’re in the middle of college, usually she lives longer than that though

So this Spidey has expectations for what their future looks like, both the good things and the bad things, they’ve Prepared™️, they got anti-goblin weapons and plans before Norman even becomes sick, they’ve prepared out how to divide up their time so they can be a good friend while balancing Spidey duties, they have plans for how to include their friends if they find out that they’re Spidey, etc etc etc

Except…a ton of those things don’t end up happening, like thankfully a ton of the worst stuff doesn’t happen, but neither does the good stuff

Poor old Aunt May who was heartbroken after Ben’s death holds out long enough to see them be accepted into universe on a full ride scholarship, and, knowing that they’ll be prepared for adulthood, she peacefully passes away in her sleep

They don’t ever have a falling out with Harry or MJ, but they also don’t have that incredibly close friendship/romance with them that other Spidey’s have, they never end up clicking with Gwen either so there’s no friendship/romance there either

Maybe they’re even prepared for the symbiotes, learning how to control their anger so that when the venom symbiote finds them, they can stand having it while they study it to find an alternative to it needing to eat people and maybe helping it find Brock under healthier circumstances, but instead their universe turns out more like the venom movies where the symbiote finds Brock immediately and it works out without needing Spidey at all

They never really become besties with the Human Torch, with Johnny off constantly fighting aliens and universe ending stuff while Spidey helps out the average civilian, they just don’t end up clicking and helping each other out

Maybe also they’re excited for Miles, hoping that their universe is one where they can mentor him but if not they made a ton of stuff to leave behind for him so the transition is easier, but he doesn’t exist, whether it’s yet or he’ll never exist in that universe, etc etc etc

Just,, A Spidey sitting in a base that they actually made so that they could have a hero group with their friends and leave it behind for Miles, full of possible hero suits for the people they know that are never going to be used, mourning possibilities that were never going to happen for them, and feeling ignored by their universe

[liam-neesons-best-girl]

Breaking Tradition {Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader}

approx. 1,000 words

Summary: Qui-Gon confesses his feelings for you and is reprimanded by the Jedi Council.

Warning: F! reader, brief mention of injury

While Princess Amidala of Naboo was in discussion with the Senate under the watchful eye of Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi, there was another woman on Qui-Gon’s mind. He had agreed to have you, a young new padawan, disguised as one of the princess’s hand maidens, and come along for the journey to learn from experience. 

You had secretly thought of Qui-Gon as more than just a mentor. Despite the little formal training you had, he saw a raw potential in you and was adamant you join the mission. This kind of attention made you feel confident in your abilities and bashful around your Jedi Master. 

Unbeknownst to you, Qui-Gon also harbored feelings for his new padawan, something he knew was frowned upon by the Jedi Council and could prove awkward if you found out and did not reciprocate those feelings. 

It was while training one day that you both expressed their feelings to each other. 

You were in a standard one-on-one battle sequence, opposite Obi-Wan, to practice using the force to lift your lightsaber that had fallen off in the distance back into your hand. All was going smoothly when Obi-Wan miscalculated the path of the lightsaber as it traveled to his hand and it collided straight into the front of your face. 

Instantly, shame washed over you, since you didn’t see the lightsaber coming. Secondly, you had fallen onto your derriere in the process, demonstrating to your Master your inability to remain balanced in a scenario of battle. And lastly, there was a sharp pain pulsing on the top of the bridge of your nose.

Needless to say, all you wanted to do was curl up in your room alone and forget any of this happened.   

While you were still in a haze and disoriented you could see a fuzzy outline of Qui-Gon coming your way and his echoed voice trying to coo you back into coherence while simultaneously yelling at Obi-Wan for his careless mistake. 

You could feel Qui-Gon gently patting the ends of his robe to your head and insisting you stay still while he cares for you. Even in the moment, while your head throbbed and you still felt the tinge of embarrassment on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but feel safe in Qui-Gon’s arms and accepted your state of being.

Later you awoke in the recovery bay of the training compound. A nurse was tending to you and you asked about the extent of your injuries. The nurse was surprised that you couldn’t remember the incident, since the trauma sustained caused a concussion that also broke the skin of your brow which needed stitches. 

You were shocked. No wonder Qui-Gon was so quick to help. 

As your thoughts wandered to Qui-Gon, you sensed his presence through the force and he appeared in the doorway.

You could tell he had just been crying by the redness of his eyes. He came right up to the side of your bed as the nurse left and held your hands in his. He knelt down and before you could even greet him with hello, he began to ramble on.  

“While you were unconscious I couldn’t bear the thought of going on without you. I found a new part of myself that I thought could have never existed as a Jedi. I have a love for you that cannot be hidden any longer. I have meditated on this and decided that telling you and not having the feelings reciprocated is better than living with this longing to love you in secret,” he said, as his soul bore into yours. 

In that moment you admired the independence and tenacity of your Jedi Master. His love for you grew to a size so great, he was willing to defy the Jedi Order and Council traditional views of love, seeing it as a weakness, a distraction to temp one to the dark side, instead of as the harmonious balance it strikes within Qui-Gon’s heart. 

You responded to his expression of love with one of your own. You brought his hands up to rest on your chest and closed your eyes. With the strength you still possessed after the injury, you channeled your energy into the force. He found peace in your heart beat’s rhythm and closed his eyes too. 

From that moment on you both became totally devoted to your love of the ways of the force, as well as for each other. You began meeting in secret, after training sessions to steal kisses in the botanical gardens or exchange lovey-dovey poetry. 

It was months later when you were discovered. Darth Maul had been lurking around with the intent to find Princess Amidala, but instead stumbled upon the sight of two Jedi’s deep in an intimate kiss and a compromising embrace.

Darth Maul relayed this newfound information to his Sith Master, Senator Palpatine, who immediately told Yoda and the remaining members of the Jedi Council, in hopes of penalizing Qui-Gon and diverting attention away from the Princess. 

When Qui-Gon was questioned about his relations with you he did not deny it. He stood defiant and unwavering on his ground. He urged the Council to see that his bond with you had only improved his skills and connection to the force, as well as your own. Their insinuation that you were a hindrance to his work or an obstacle made him question their faith in the ways of the force. 

“It was the force that brought us together, Master Yoda,” Qui-Gon said. “If it had not wanted us to meet, we would not have both been gifted with the great sacrifice that it is to be a Jedi Knight.”

“A good point, you make,” said Yoda. “But, face punishments you will. Hmmm. There is need for structure, yes. Have patience and all will be revealed.”

So the decision was made. Qui-Gon would stay on Naboo to finish his journey with Princess Amidala, and you would be sent to Tatooine for a Jedi rehabilitation program, to restore your adherences to the Jedi Codes of conduct, regardless of personal feelings. 

Before you and Qui-Gon were escorted your separate ways, you whispered words of reassurance and encouragement to him, promising your love would endure this trial of separation. 

“We will communicate through force and meditation. We will prove to the council we are not defective Jedi warriors. Like Yoda said, in time, all will be revealed. We have to stay strong together,” you said as you placed your forehead against Qui-Gon’s. 

[koukouture]

In Shadowbringers neither G'raha nor Emet Selch really know Elysia. G'raha only knows his hero, his idol; he only knows the Warrior of Light. Emet Selch only knows Azem or Lucifer; her past incarnation. And even back then Lucifer was nowhere near genuine with Emet Selch and he views her through rose tinted glasses anyways.

Elysia knows this. It actually permeates every single conversation she has with them. They both seem to know her so intimately and yet they don't know her at all. G'raha Tia can recite her exploits and heroics like they're gospel and Emet Selch speaks to her as if he's known her for thousands of years (he has; through hundreds of her incarnations across the shards) Elysia knows that the Exarch and the first need their hero, and she knows that Emet Selch is searching for something within her. And she is nothing if a people pleaser.

She's mad at both of them but her very nature now is merely to be a puppet. She's grown desensitized. She will be the muse, the fantasy, the hero; anything but her true self.

G'raha and Emet Selch both try to get to know her too- they just fail and can't accept Elysia for who she truly is (in the moment, ofc)

G'raha can't accept that his hero is actually a selfish, vain, nihilistic monster (at this point in the story at least) and doesn't care for salvation. Elysia is just too scared to die and too scared to be left alone so she does all the hero business. But eventually Shadowbringers pushes her to almost suicidal ideation and G'raha sees her at her lowest and ugliest. How can this be the hero? He wonders. Sure he has his plan to save her but she is so resigned to her fate with the knowledge that she will destroy the First and it shocks him because he's believed for the longest time that she was infallible, immortal- an angel. But standing before him now is a girl who has nothing to lose anymore. (G'raha wonders if he should just let her die- at least then she would have some autonomy in her life)

Emet Selch can't accept Elysia's mortality because in his eyes that should be Lucifer standing there- bright, immortal, shining Lucifer- but Lucifer is gone. He is mad at Lucifer so he is still mad at Elysia who has done nothing to deserve his anger. He idolized Lucifer so he desperately looks for any trace of her in Elysia. He hates confronting the fact that he might not have known his friend as well as he thought he did. He has to realize that he never knew Lucifer at all. Instead, he gets to know Elysia through Lucifer because despite her countless incarnations; Lucifer can't change. It's terrifying because he can't help but love her either. Lucifer will have Hades wrapped around her finger until the end of time. Elysia is now merely an object of Emet Selch's grief and obsession. The sun has set but Hades selfishly keeps a sliver of it's light in the palm of his hand to brave the night ahead. (Lucifer's incarnations have kept what little sanity he has intact all these years)

Elysia doesn't even know what she is anymore. Slayer of gods, murderer, a living nightmare to the Garleans- her every step has been steeped in blood, ash and ichor. She's gotten rid of her old self- of little Akari- and carved Elysia into the fabric of this world. The truth is, the singularity that is Elysia should not exist. Not with this much power, at least. What is a mortal to do with the power to topple god? Contest the divine? Be the sole salvation of entire worlds? How is this a blessing when everything is always a burden for her to carry? She follows the orders, she saves the people, she is their hope and what does she get in return? More destruction. She loses everyone around her and herself in return for the world's balance. What if... she were to die? How splendid would that be. It would be such a relief for everyone to see her for the monster she is if she becomes a Light Warden. She would be free of her role of the Warrior of Light- free to gorge herself on the audience who watches the spectacle of her suffering. (Elysia isn't a monster; just a girl forced to bear the weight of the world alone)

Anyways yeah tldr Post Heavensward - Endwalker Elysia is having the WORST time of her life.

[toa-secretsanta]

Vio Submission for Neuro SS

“Wow, Jakob! You look great in your new outfit!” Sharena says as she pokes her head into the Order of Heroes’ dressing room. “I gotta say, I think Niðavellir couture feels very fitting for you!”

Jakob raises an eyebrow at her in the mirror, a small smile on his lips. “Your compliments are much appreciated, Princess Sharena. I find it shares a bit of similarity with Nohrian style, with some color schemes and tailoring methods found in both nations’ clothing.”

There is a meticulousness required when working with seiðjarn constructs, which Jakob can appreciate. Each component must be carefully measured, crafted, forged so as to fit together in a precise manner. Each rune must be carved with deliberation and at the perfect depth, not a single stroke out of place. Each node of power must be filled with the exact amount needed and set in just the right spot. It is a delicate balance the likes of which the dvergar are experts at striking, as surely as their hammers meet their anvils, and it is evidence of a vaunted tradition passed down from generation to generation. Now Jakob is not a blacksmith and would not profess to any skill in the art and science of seiðjarn, but… is not service as a butler so very similar? The silver and dishware must be polished to a spotless gleam, arranged so that each is within reach for use. The rooms must be swept, dusted, and mopped so that even the slightest speck of dust cannot be found. The tea must be steeped with a discerning hand, brewed so that it is neither too strong nor too weak but delivers all its flavors as a delightful and refreshing bouquet. The daggers must be kept oiled and sharp, finding their marks in the enemy’s weak points for the swiftest and most efficient takedown. And of course, the uniform must be worn with nary a wrinkle or stain in sight, perfectly pressed and perfectly fitted, presenting the exemplar of the highest-quality service that could possibly exist. An excellent butler works as smoothly as a well-oiled machine, or so the saying might go.

Jakob adjusts the cravat, fastening the golden gear-embellished pin to it. He tucks the puff sleeves of his white shirt, quilted instead of pleated, into black bracers, his hands covered with sleek black leather gloves. His vest hugs his frame in an elegant dark purple, clean lines accentuated by the gear buttons holding it closed. A matching strap sits atop his slim black trousers, black knee-high boots covered with shin armor trimmed in gold and violet. His sleeveless black outer tailcoat gleams in the light, having been freshly buffed; a golden braid loops over his left bicep, held in place on his breast with an amethyst set in a gear brooch and left to dangle as a tassel. A hair ribbon fastened with a gear pin completes the look, and Jakob scrutinizes his appearance in the mirror once, twice, before he nods in satisfaction. Not a single piece out of place, not a wrinkle in sight. It is spotless, having not yet been worn until now. Like this, he looks the picture of a Niðavellir butler, ready to serve. It will not obstruct his work when serving Lord Corrin, nor will it get in his way in the heat of battle. He has seen to this personally, as no such thing as too much care exists when it comes to his lord and, by extension, his own appearance.

The outfit possesses much in the way of personalization. Jakob slips his daggers into their sheaths and then into a variety of concealed pockets hidden throughout the uniform. When tailoring this outfit, he had ensured that he could draw a dagger from just about any place he could easily reach without harming the clothes or delaying his speed of draw. Thus, the uniform holds a myriad of hidden pockets capable of holding all of his weapons and making him look completely unarmed. It is only acceptable, after all, that a butler be able to defend his liege with any means possible, and what else is he to do but make sure he is armed to the teeth while still presenting himself as the perfect butler, a poised and elegant gentleman? He must say, he is terribly proud of the work that he put into this uniform. All the research that went into it, all of the tests and material searches, all of the late nights spent sewing into the wee hours of the morning just so that he could make certain that every last little detail had been taken care of to perfection. Not that he would deign to brag, but if he were capable of creating art, this would, he believes, qualify as a masterpiece.

… But of course, nothing from him can be a better masterpiece than serving his lord Corrin to his utmost abilities. With one final straighten, Jakob exits the room, curious to see what his lord’s reaction to his new uniform will be.

“Wow, look at Jakob! He’s wearing something new today, or am I seeing that wrong?”

“He looks great! Wonder who his tailor is?”

“If anything, it’s likely that he made it himself. You know how particular he is about details and service. He probably commissioned the armor too, from one of our dvergar friends, no doubt.”

“Commissioned? Nah, if he’s that dedicated, then he probably made it himself! Easiest way to go when you’ve gotta have it to your specifications, right?”

“But can he fight in it?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course he can. Guy’s a nut for being capable in combat and defending his lord and whatnot. Can’t wait to see him in action, to be honest.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s go get Corrin so Jakob can show off his fancy new clothes to him!”

Jakob smiles. Ah, what a fashionable way to be a butler in service to his lord and king Corrin.

[wingzie]

Hi.

Your experience as a Jikookers is the same as the experience of Taekookers. Extreme shippers fighting and having meltdowns on the TL make a lot of people equate the unit name with these behaviors.

Sadly the first thought that came to my mind when Jimin mentioned JK is that tkk would make a scene about it. Instead of just feeling relief they are doing well, or just comfort we're getting news, I felt dread. And the worst is I was right.

I'm really struggling with the state of the fandom now, especially twitter fandom. People say you just have to curate your online experience and most sane armys are just taking a break from SNS and everything will get better once the guys start coming back from MS. I'm not this optimistic.

I've been thinking finding fellow ARMY irl could be better. But there's still a good chance to meet someone you would block straight away online.

I'm not a very social person. I used to come online to find people remisniscing, celebrating, sharing.. There's always been hating but now it feels like it's only hating (and comparing numbers). There was a clear shift from COVID on. It's not just solo endeavors and MS. You said it, how the way to handle things has changed.

I don't know how to fend off all the negativity any more than I know how to casually meet ARMY offline. I dream of an ARMY community manager, of a campaign about mental heal, abusive relationships (how many think they know better than the members what's good for them and think they are actually showing love and support when they are just being abusive), how to make the parasocial relationship a positive thing, etc.... A lot of these people who make ARMY spaces unbreathable actually need help.

Hi Anon! I'm sorry you feel this way. I feel like some Army experienced feelings of anger or betrayal since the Festa Dinner, which has made them unfairly lash out on the members. Some cannot cope that we lost an aspect of control, but this has always been the members decision and we have to accept that with respect. As I said in my other post, the heart of Army is massively the same. Just this morning I saw a Tweet about the Purple Ocean from Muster and it reminded me of the Flashlight project during PTD. There will ALWAYS be discourse online. That is the reason for it's existence. I am in other fandoms and they all suffer from the same issues since Covid and Elon. However, for every "bad" person or post, there are plenty of good ones out there. If you look for then. I mentioned to someone yesterday that it's like when people always leave awful reviews for a bad meal, but very rarely mention when they have a good meal. That's why I always try to find a balance. Both Jimin and Namjoon have told us over the years to not engage with negativity and I have always taken those words to heart. Things in online spaces have changed, but I guess I am more of a fighter and optimist. For each negative post I see, I spend more time posting/repositing posts that spread positivity or praise. I see no point in boosting some random February 2024 account sprewing hate. We have to be responsbile or our own spaces and I DO think things will improve once Jin returns. There's still that shared joy and excitement whenever a member posts or content comes out. It's just that the negative is less contained than it used to be. As for events offline. My first event was for a local screening of one of the concerts. I then attended a few events for members Birthday's. With the HYYH anniversay coming up, maybe you could look into seeing if there's any events for it? It's also Sope's Birthday soon and I plan to go to events for each of their Birthday's, so that could also be an option. However, if you dont' feel comfortable going in person, then that is perfectly acceptable. I'm sure there will be no judgement! We all have our own ways. For example, I always buy a mini cake for each members' Birthday haha. Though I had some negative experiences offline, there have been some really good ones. That's just how things are and then you can take the steps to protect yourself afterwards. I'm actually going to another event with the same group I mentioned before. If it doesn't go well, then I will just leave. If things have improved, then I will stay and enjoy myself. I understand it's not easy though, especially when we have certain expectations. Please do look after yourself though and feel free to DM me if you wish to discuss further. Much Love Wingzie/Becca

[betweenlands]

a list of mods/modpacks i'd like to rattle legundo around in (elaboration under the cut):

From The Fog + Sleepless (no official download yet; here's a link to the series currently showcasing it)

The Hubris of Magic

Into The Betweenlands / Into The Betweenlands 2

Aylyth

Nevermore (Manic + Sanguine)

Dimensional Doors again

From The Fog + Sleepless (no official download yet yada yada here's the link again)

the extremely atmospheric Herobrine mod from Haunted Winter, but with a second Lunar Eclipse creation based on urban legends of the Winchester Mystery Manor.

every night, you must set your bed in a different room of your house, or Bad Things Will Happen. the rooms of the house must be connected to each other. beds can't be placed too near to where other beds were, or Bad Things Will Happen.

Sleepless turns Minecraft into a frantic crawl to get enough materials to build more and more rooms onto an ever-more-convoluted house, and it's great. pairing it with From The Fog is just kind of a given to me, but it also goes great with decor mods and other atmospheric horror mods.

this is the reason this post exists. i want this playthrough to happen so bad. Legundo's former title in Decem is the Architect for god's sake. he needs to be subjected to some house of leaves nonsense more than anything else, and it needs to be his fault.

pair with the Immersive Portals mod for extra HoL.

The Hubris of Magic

a 1.7 modpack focusing around the classic magic mod Thaumcraft, where the world is hostile and covered in sculk i mean Taint

1.7 is a hard sell, i know. here's the thing; Hubris is one of those classic "survive a horrid infection" mods, like Sculk Horde, but it's like that -- at peak infection -- by default. everything is purple, the ground wants to kill you, the corrupt magic is nearly inescapable, there are even magic nodes that want very badly to eat you

it has some of the most iconic magic mods in existence -- chief among them being Thaumcraft and Botania, of course! i also just think it has some great atmosphere and requires fun lateral thinking in terms of how to go about setting up an area that can't be infected.

everything being infected means that villagers are a super endangered species, by the way! good luck.

Into The Betweenlands / Into The Betweenlands 2 (or just play Betweenlands i guess)

a lovely 1.12 modpack that places the player directly into the swamp hell dimension known as the Betweenlands with a handful of other mods. have fun!!!!!! don't die!!!

wow, tumblr user solar betweenlands wants people to play the Betweenlands. fork found in kitchen. no, but in all seriousness, the Betweenlands is one of my favorite ever mods and it has some absolutely killer atmosphere.

i've chosen i2btl and i2btl2 because they're fully balanced modpacks that put you right in the dimension to begin with, but i mean, i would love to see a custom modpack tooled around the Betweenlands as well!

the Betweenlands really forces you to engage with a lot of its mechanics and is basically a survival horror mod that actually understood the "survival" part of that genre premise. resources are always scarce, picking fights isn't always a good idea, and the dimension itself is chewing away at you.

Aylyth

it's like the Betweenlands but in the woods instead of the swamp and also the dimension itself really wants to kill you this time

i don't have a lot to add. it's an acceptable Betweenlands runner-up for me.

Nevermore (Manic + Sanguine)

a datapack/mod combo adding Dark Magics and just straight-up blood magic. has its own extra narsty blood moons and some really fun (in)sanity mechanics.

i love Manic a lot. it's got a fascinatingly unique method of ingame documentation and some seriously cool spritework. Sanguine has some really neat pixel gore as well! they're both super cool.

seriously though Manic owns when it comes to eldritch horror mods. i am chewing on it. i'm recommending Nevermore because i feel like Manic and Sanguine are kind of a Do Not Separate Them deal.

Dimensional Doors again

dimdoors is good and i like it

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Plastic Hearts - (19)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

Eight wheels, eight days

---

“Shouldn’t it fix itself, now that it’s within Barbieland?”, Ken asked, you observed him.

He was usually composed but now his fingers tapped on the table edge. His body weight was balanced on the tip of his feet instead of his heel, his eyebrows set in a raised state, his jaw clenched and his breathing more rapid.

Had he noticed a threat you had failed to consider?

Weird Barbie blew a low whistle as she placed the skates on the observation table. The cracked wheel now disintegrated and gone, the metal on the edges now beginning to hiss and grow hot like an unstable battery.

“Is it going to explode?”, you asked as you took a stand next to Ken, your fingers sliding over his in an attempt to calm him down but it only seemed to make him more frantic.

“Worse. It will become a huge gapoing hole and drag us all into non existence.”, she rubbed her tired eyes.

“So how do we stop that?”, Ken folded his arms and you reminded yourself that you had a lot to worry about now. But his sudden coldness was too jarring to accept.

“That’s the tricky bit. Each wheel constitutes a day. So we have eight days left before the end of Barbieland or eight hours before all the children of the world lose their minds forever.”, she narrates with the most serious tone you had ever heard.

You think back to all the women and girls you had seen, the hollow eyed stares, the zombie like state in which they had begun to morph into. A shiver ran down your spine.

“But there’s only one cure to all this.”, she said, her eyes focused on the map of Barbieland behind you.

“What is it?”, you jumped at the opportunity. You had to solve this, somehow all this was your fault.

“It needs to be reset using the purest form of Barbieland’s essence to counteract the decay caused by the spell.”, she explained as she moved towards the map.

Your eyes follow her, so does Ken’s.

She pointed towards the mount of great faces, it was in the middle of the land, seemingly like the heart of this place.

“Within the mount exists the fabled Lake of Repair. One drop, all your wear and tear vanishes.”, she looks back at you both.

“But the beauty is it doesn’t just heal, it’s water can make pure anything that is corrupt. There by reverting the object to its initial state.”, her eyes glimmered with the same wildness that ran within her.

“I’ll go. I’ll get us a sample of that water.”, Ken spoke up instantly and your eyes snapped to his.

“I’ll go with him.”, you interjected but instead he pushed past you.

“No. She stays here.”, he held his hand up as though there was no point in arguing about this.

“But this is just a myth, Ken. There’s no proof it exists. Except for a really old map I have.”, Weird Barbie balanced her hands on her hip.

“If it’s the only shot we have, then we take it.”, he speaks like a Sergeant, as though this has been his job, to command an army.

You try to catch his gaze but he doesn’t give it to you, but when he does, it softens with worry. He sighs and pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket.

“I take it these are put up by the Nomads?”, he asked but your eyes widened when you read what was written.

You had a bounty on your head and it didn’t matter if you were alive for it.

“Ah yes.”, weird Barbie sighed.

“They believe that by making her pay for taking away their home might be the answer to getting it all back.”, she said with a sad undertone.

“And I have to agree with him on this one. You need to be here within our perimeter for your own safety.”, she placed her hand on your shoulder as a sign of care but you only felt more helpless and angry.

This was your mess, so it should be you who was working proactively to fix it, not be told to step aside. You wanted to argue but before you could, Ken caught a hold of your wrist and pulled you away gently.

“Give me a minute.”, he excused himself to weird Barbie as he led you to the other corner of the lab.

“Brie, I need to trust me on this.”, he spoke to you with concern and authority.

“And let you go out into a mad world? If they are after me, won’t they track you too?”, you asked but it was stemming from the anxiousness of having to split up. This wasn’t a part of the plan.

“Brie, I ask you to let me do this.”, he held you by your shoulder and maintained steady eye contact.

“And I ask you not to sideline me.”, you pleaded.

“I can’t let you go out there on your own while I wait here, like I did at the hospital...”, you try to explain yourself but instead it comes out as a mash of words. His eyes narrowed.

“The hospital?”, he questioned but realization dawned on his face as he put it all together.

“I’m not Melissa, Brie. I will come back to you.”, his hands trailed up to cup both sides of your face. His eyes boring into yours as if nothing in this world and the planet could ever change the assurance in his statement.

You placed your hands over his, to hold onto it as you fought against the ghosts of your past.

“I have to do this. For you, for Barbieland and for myself.”, he said, his thumb caressing the rise of your cheek.

“I need to prove to myself that I’m not who I was. That I’m no longer second, I have an equal price to pay for the wrongdoings that I had done. I need you to support me in this.”, he laid it all out clearly.

This meant more to him. And it would be cruel of you to hold him back, for all the support he had shown you. You had to trust him on this.

“Then promise me you will be safe.”, you said holding back your tears because this was your time to be there for him.

“I will.”, he pulled you close to kiss your forehead.

The coldness had evaporated, his hand slid around your waist and his fear was now eased. All this time he had just been worried about your well being. He wanted to protect you, that was what this was all about and you denying him the right to do that was only making him feel like you valued him less.

It was hard, to embrace the uncertainty, to not be in control, but this wasn’t your kitchen and these people weren’t your staff. You had to learn to let go and so you did, with the full faith that this was going to go well. Your belief in him never waivered.

You and Ken turned towards weird Barbie who now had a sly smile on her face as she watched you both walk back to her.

“So the world ending was the right time you finally chose to fall in love?”, she asked sarcastically.

“What better time than that?”, Ken chuckled and for a second it all felt warm and good.

But Allan walked in with a frown that was very evident.

“We’ve found another one.”, he sighed to which weird Barbie drooped her head into her hands.

“Where?”, she asked, her voice muffled as she spoke into her hands.

“Near the settlements.”, he answered. “She’s the fifth one we’ve found today.”, he continued to which weird Barbie sighed.

“If you’re doing this, then you leave at the crack of dawn.”, she met Ken’s gaze to which he gave a curt nod.

“Allan can go with you, he’s well versed with reading my maps.”, she said as she hopped off the seat she was seated in.

“What have you found?”, you asked, curious at the mystery of their conversation.

But instead of giving you an answer she just gestured you and Ken to follow her. She moved away from the lab to a more quieter darker area that was away from the visibility of most of the inhabitants of this base.

Propping open a steel door, she waited for Allan, you and Ken to pass through before she sealed it behind her. The room was dark and extremely cold, it felt unsettling just to stand in this void. But when she switched on the lights you only wanted to keel over.

There were a hundred or so Barbies and Kens seated next to each other, with their eyes open but yet absolutely still. They were frozen as though they were stuck in a coma.

“The reset will also save these guys.”, weird Barbie broke the eerie silence.

“What’s happening to them?”, you asked, you couldn’t help but turn your gaze to catch a glimpse of Ken’s reaction.

He stood next to you, his lips pursed but also as if he wasn’t perturbed by this.

“They’re being forgotten from the minds of children.”, Allan said softly with sadness in his eyes.

You felt like the air around you had turned into cellophane to wrap its invisible trap around you. You couldn’t unsee it, it flashed before your eyes and in your mind. Ken seated like this, in front of you.

The reset wasn’t only a cure for the world but it was for him too.

---

Tags:

@imogen-skye @ateliefloresdaprimavera @meowkid1000 @jokersgrf @linacool13 @oh-kurva @dreamsarenicer @memospacexx @haleysucks00 @babyimjustken @tempobaekh @fallingwallsh @whatafreakingloser @lcversrockk @imonmyvigilanteshh @constellationscharts @eddiemunson4ever @freyafriggafrey @neptunelixir @iamruiningmylife @floralsightings @ynbutbetter @lazyboikat @mrharringtonsbae @spookyscellar @harleyquinn03041998 @haydensith @thatgirljas13 @weasleytwinscumslut @kensthetic @itstylersblog @papichulo120627 @lee-lee-23 @dazeglitter-blog @urmom24sworld @chaos-in-person @aremos @theoriginalwife000 @undercover-being-whack @puredreamagination @h-l-vlovesvintage @krazyk99 @agustdeeyaa @bluebear19 @porterport @urahara24 @wvndamaximilf @berlinswifey @suzirumas @faustlyaccused @rennydenny @paintmekala @leafyturtle @lafy-taffy @blossomingrose @dark-hunter16

[basilone]

#11 mirror - with the Mota character(s) and OC(s) of your choice with the critical question: "Are there any god-chosen in this Mota universe?"

This is the loveliest question, thank you for sending it! ���� I had a proper little think about this for a while, and I think this POV perhaps works best of all... Colonel Harding, dealing with his roster of god-chosen and a new arrival. For those of you new to this AU, I think that this piece serves well as a lowkey introduction to the idea. You can find a little more info on this particular AU in the pinned post on my blog or in its relevant tag right here.

mirror

COLONEL NEIL B. HARDING

100TH BOMB GROUP

BURN AFTER READING

His thumb lands heavy on the last word. The order stands out stark in red ink, as if to remind him he needs to commit this paper to the flames at his earliest convenience. So classified that its mere existence in writing should always be a temporary thing, committed to memory and nothing else.

Neil inhales sharply. Some of this list is not a surprise. There’s Cleven, near the top, neatly penciled in as Air-chosen. The two lady pilots – Julie Langdon and Christina Heartfield – both carry Home next to their names. There is Truth-chosen Perrault, whose eyes had carried nothing but a steel trap when he’d met her, and John Brady’s careful Balance right below that. And certainly, there are also the known questionmarks between them. Egan’s name carries it, alongside a note that questions Trickster? as if Neil’s supposed to have the answer to that speculation. Rivers’s questionmark is a concern, no matter how often Cleven’s assurance Lot’s all right, sir is said out loud, and he’s not even going to ask about James Douglass anymore.

Then, there are the new additions. The surprises. The things his predecessor had warned about in a neat little note that carried a few blood spatters at its edges. They keep sending god-chosen our way. Some of them barely remember to take their suppressants, while others are so new to it that they form a liability to the crews. I fear their power is too absolute. Their influence too great.

“Rosenthal, was it?” Neil’s fingers itch for a smoke. Or a drink. He has neither. “Name like that,” he says instead, glancing down at the personnel roster to ensure there has not been a mistake, “I would have assumed Water-chosen.”

The man’s mouth quirks up just a little. “Many do, sir. Certainly surprised my family when I chose another.”

“I was told the god does the choosing.” Sunday school. Shepherd’s preachers. All those damn pamphlets about being chosen by a god that’d been distributed at West Point. “Are you trying to tell me now that you’ve all had a choice in turn, Rosenthal?”

“The god chooses first,” says Rosenthal, voice so void of his god’s influence that Neil almost thinks the roster a fluke, “and we accept the choice, or we do not. Most of us say yes at some point.” His eyes crinkle a little. Soften as he nods at the roster. “That will get longer. More detailed. Anyone taken as POW will be numbed by stronger suppressants. My crew is already building its tolerance, sir.”

Neil’s hand tracks the additions beneath Rosenthal’s name. Lewis, Wisdom-chosen. DeBlasio, Air-chosen. Bailey and Boccuzzi, Fate-chosen. Milburn, Fire-chosen… “Tell your bombardier to speak to Lombardi.” He can feel a headache blossom behind his eyes. “She is Fire-chosen too. Serves as bombardier to Benny DeMarco right now. Only thing he complains about is finding scorch marks on his plane post-mission.”

That earns him a good-natured chuckle. “The scorch marks sure sound familiar.” Rosenthal’s fingers drum out a gentle rhythm on the arms of his chair. “I’ll be sure to let Cliff know about Lombardi. Chances are he will find her before I do. Like often recognizes like, sir.”

Opening. Aim. “There is another chosen like you on this base, Rosenthal.”

“The red-haired mechanic down by the hardstands this morning,” comes the immediate response. Score. “Carries favor so loudly that even her two suppressants cannot contain it in full. Enchanting woman, I am sure”– and Rosenthal’s eyes spark with such good humor that Neil almost smiles back –“most especially when she cursed out loud upon seeing me and then managed to apologize to Pappy for her language in the same breath.”

Neil leans back in his seat. Lights the roster on fire with the tip of his cigar. “You two do not seem alike to me, Rosenthal.”

“I imagine not, sir. Sergeant Mayfair and I believe it is like those funhouse mirrors. It is still the same god, but finding different expression in different people. Needing us for different things.”

“So Mayfair is the flirt”– Neil doesn’t feel bad about saying it, not after that smile she threw him while having forgotten her suppressant a week ago –“and the beacon that warms the heart. Friendly face, always a kind word, helps bring our planes home.” He drops the burning roster into the wastepaper bucket Red gave him. Commits the details to memory best he can. “That, I can understand. That’s love to a man. Keeps them going when the game gets tough. But you? Rosenthal, what on earth is a Love-chosen pilot going to do in a war as hard as this one?”

Robert Rosenthal meets his eyes unflinchingly. “Whatever I can, Colonel Harding.” A slight smile. A minuscule nod. The air behind him seems to flicker, glow, enshrine his brow in fiercest gold the longer Neil stares at him. “For however long I can.”

His voice carries an echo of battle drums.