#it's to ensure that EVERYONE lives

[kaurwreck]

I don't know why it's so common to characterize Kunikida's willingness to sacrifice himself for his ideals as suicidality or inevitable. It's so short sighted, and neglectful of the relationship between existence, life, and death profferred by Bungou Stray Dogs.

I came to the decision when I was seven that anything worth devoting myself to must be worth dying for, too. Not because I thought I would inevitably be asked or because I wanted to die (that wouldn't manifest for another two years). But because there are some things that transcend me, and those are the things into which I want to concentrate my immense but nevertheless limited energy, love, time, and will.

I don't know what's difficult to understand about there being some things worth dying for (or that maybe death is an end, rather than the end). But there are (and for some of us, it is).

[opal-owl-flight]

"Can I be your hero, this time?"

8s noticed how much 3 has been a bit too willing to lay their life down to save the world. As someone who fought beak and claw to live a brand new life in the surface world, seeing her hero acting this way makes her worried sick for them...

[notbecauseofvictories]

I wonder if I'm having my midlife crisis now. Maybe if you don't marry or have children, you just....jump ahead. Start worrying at 32 about the shape you'll leave behind, if any at all, and how that makes you feel about the cold and windless maw of eternity.

[writer-room]

Honestly Rayla is equally 100% ride or die for Callum too.

That's so true I almost mentioned it in that post. They're so ridiculously feral for each other it's hilarious to watch. Callum's the legitimate "we ride AND die together" whereas Rayla is the "I will ride and die FOR you" sort of deal yknow?

Could be literally any situation, no matter how dangerous, and she's already decided she will die here. Does it ensure Callum lives? Then batter-up buckeroo we're going in swords blazing! Everyone cheer and clap for her human or she'll blow this whole place up. Kinda person who says "even if you hate me I'd still lose everything if it meant you were okay". She thinks they're in a tragic love story where she's always at risk of losing him but that's okay as long as it keeps him safe and happy like y'know Viren parallels, she'd risk losing her very self for him over and over. Except Callum would wait until the end of the world itself, and even beyond, and she wouldn't even have to ask.

The difference between them, really, is that Rayla will die for Callum on any given day. Callum will kill for Rayla on any given day. Something something matching sets

[s0fter-sin]

wow so watcher just singlehandedly killed their channel

[faehrnem]

In a different timeline, where Faehrnem never comes to be as the Bold Tree follows in his older sister's footsteps by setting aside his own wants and dreams to instead begrudgingly take on his role as an avatar.

[nozomijoestar]

Asuka is a tragic figure, a figure of mystery, a wild card, all because the only thing she wants in life is peace and quiet for herself and to feel in control- yet her secret heritage that may be hidden from her for her own protection and the reality that life is unpredictable and will go on with or without you keep ruining that delusion, that vision of how the world is meant to work to her, and she suffers regardless of what she wants, what she does, and how little she understands anything

She was born into a family preaching peace and balance and order while being a creature of violence, and puts a dozen mental locks and excuses over this truth to justify giving into her impulse for fighting by pretending she's justice when she does it

She keeps trying to build a place of safety but she's using sand and life is a wave that destroys, yet she stubbornly persists rather than give up, not drowned to the point of self centered suicidal loathing like Jin- there's contrast, where Jin is cloaked in death Asuka stubbornly clings to life and humanity as a normal person in a terrifying world

She's not a fucking narrative clone for Jun's own purpose, Asuka's purpose must be determined by Asuka herself

[solace-seekers]

screaming into the void <3

[walker-lister]

I just have to remind myself sometimes that no matter what anyone else says, the way a piece of media makes me feel and the positive impact it has had on my queer identity is valid, and that tearing myself apart thinking I have to defend it or questioning my own place within queer communities is not at all important when compared to the almost tangible sense of 'rightness' that piece of media helped me to feel about myself.

[aberooski]

Hassleberry's immune to the Light of Destruction, he has no darkness in his heart, he's part dinosaur..... he's a real problem for the bad guys because they can't do SHIT to him very easily at all! And I couldn't be happier 😌

[remythologise]

goro defense squad rise up!

I can excuse poppy hill and earthsea but I draw the line at earwig and the witch, a movie so fiendishly awful that it may well have been a devilish ploy to unretire mr hayao and fuel the malicious fire in the engine room of the boy and the heron

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

So, trivia! It's implied in the Complete Allspark Almanac that TFA Cyclonus is the future version of Skywarp (yes, really). He's apparently a time-traveler, and fanatically loyal to Galvatron.

Okay, so I have heard this one before! And I do think about it. But I think it would be more interesting if Cyclonus time travels to get away from Galvatron. Alternatively, he time travels with the intent to ensure Megatron becomes Galvatron but changes his mind once getting to the past. (I think it's also mentioned he loses his memories?) I also think it's interesting that they chose the scared, terrified Starscream clone to become the quiet brooding guy, instead of having it be one of the other clones. I kick the idea around in my head sometimes and I do want to use it eventually, I'm just not sure how.

[sunnymoon-sunshine]

I still think it’s criminal that, out of all possibilities they could have done with Mistystar in regards to giving her a story of her own, they never wrote about her time in ThunderClan during The Darkest Hour. I honestly thought that was what her novella was going to be about when it came out.

There’s a plethora of ideas there. Mistyfoot, having been raised in RiverClan all her life, now having to acclimate herself to what she now knows is not just an enemy clan, but her mother’s clan. Her mother’s clan that just saved her when her birth clan turned a blind eye to the torture and death that were placed on the shoulders of Bluestar’s kits.

The elders! They remembered Bluefur’s lost litter. She must have caught them staring at her, noticing the striking similarities to their lost leader. How their lost kit had grown, and how they had called her name for weeks trying to find her in the thick snows that blanketed the forest in the season of her birth.

Or how ThunderClan struggled to consolidate the idea that an enemy was also their kin. Much as they may not have liked it, Mistyfoot had a claim in ThunderClan - even though, just a few short moons ago, she had cornered their leader in an ancestral battle over Sunningrocks. How could a warrior, born inside their clan yet raised in with their bitter rivals, fit into ThunderClan? It’s by the mercy of Firestar, born outside of ThunderClan, and Whitestorm, her cousin on her mother’s side, that she is accepted to ThunderClan.

Whitestorm, who remembered Bluestar’s lost litter, and how much his beloved aunt grieved for them. His aunt, his mother in how she raised him to be kind, to be noble, and to be a warrior ThunderClan could be proud of. Oh, how Bluestar would have done the same for her kits - it’s a pity, he thinks, that all Bluestar’s finest qualities went towards warriors of another clan.

And yet he enjoys being around Mistyfoot. She’s sharp as a thorn, quick as a weasel and she holds her ground, no matter how sharply her bones jut out, or how intense her grief is for her littermate. He understands, because he understands grief - and he feels it, in some way he cannot fathom, a sharp pang for the cousin he only knew in name alone, in the words of warriors who spoke of the greatest warriors of the forest. Stonefur. He would have liked to know his kin. To imagine a world where Bluefur could have raised her kits in ThunderClan with Thrushpelt, and he could have played with and taught and perhaps even mentored. Oh, how Bluefur’s kits would have been loved. He wonders what happened to Mosskit - and decides that it’s a secret that must have died with Bluestar, and that he’ll know soon. He isn’t a young cat, after all.

And he’s the one that comforts Mistyfoot the most. She isn’t alone anymore, because when she lost Stonefur, she lost the last of her RiverClan kin besides her own children, and Silverstream’s kits. There is family in ThunderClan, who knew her mother well - and know some very funny stories of her mother, to boot - and she is comforted by that. She knows why her mother gave her up, moons ago, because Whitestorm isn’t stupid and he understands how his father’s bloodthirsty nature most likely contributed to her decision. How Bluefur rose from the ashes of losing her children to accept her destiny as deputy, and how his father hated her for that for the rest of his life. There was something there, he was sure.

And he apologizes, because she should have been ThunderClan. And she disagrees - she loved being RiverClan, after all.

But being in ThunderClan’s camp, with the kin of her mother and the clan that was her first home, she starts to wonder what life would have been like - and would be like - if she stayed, all those moons ago.

[canichangemyblogname]

Do people just not have best friends or something? Or is y'all's attitude toward people hanging out with others' families shaped by family size? I see people saying stuff like: "These two people must be romantically interested in each other because one invited the other to a family party after only a month of knowing each other!" And, like... no? Friends get invited to the family picnic after a month of knowing each other.

As someone from a VERY large family, you do not bring your s/o or someone you're romantically interested in to your 70+ person family barbecue. They will grill them and make the day very, very awkward. But your friend can grab a plate. That one kid you sat next to in Kindergarten can grab a plate. Your neighbor's cousin's cat can grab a plate. Your second-grade classmate's neighbor's son? He can also grab a plate.

Your s/o though? They can grab a plate in about a year or so. They have to meet your mom and pop for dinner first. Then your gran and pop. Then there's the "obligatory" (it's not actually) "your sibling accidentally third wheels on a date" first, too. Then you can bring them around to a birthday, often your own. The entire birthday party will have already met your s/o. And only after that will you bring them to the barbecue/picnic/reunion/christmas/easter holiday. Bringing them along is serious stuff. Bringing a friend along is expected.

This does not apply to weddings. You are not allowed to bring friends to a family's wedding. You're either tagging along with your parents or bringing a date.

[astralazuli]

So there's that D&D class quiz going around, & I took it & was so deeply offended I got Paladin.

& so I have had conversations with both Bestie & Birdfriend about this grave insult & they both were like, "Well... They have a point?" & informed me that my desire to absorb hits meant for others & deep drive to help whenever I actually can & strong convictions make me a bit Paladin-coded.

& I am just so... Idk. It's just interesting to get glimpses of yourself from other people's POVs. To be told that my defining characteristics are protecting & healing others & being incredibly fighty about the things I care about... Especially as someone whose brain specifically fixates on whether I care enough, do enough, give enough... Yeah. It's just kinda wild.

Anyway, I'm now adjusting my self-perception to include the fact that if I were a D&D character, I would be an Oath of the Ancients Paladin & not a wizard & that actually that's okay.

[meatriarch]

im still on my fuckshit but when i think of cc maria ( by extension also nosy maria but specifically noting the isolation aspect of cc );

can you imagine one day skimming the paper. its been a few weeks since all the commotion knowing your friends' had attempted to come find you but then were chased off. never actually heard or saw any of them, but you know they were around.

but you've been moved from the cells to a mattress upstairs. you're given more freedom, more wiggle room, you're allowed to do things - little hobby-type activities - you're given better foods, you're looked after by the older woman at the other house. the man who took you, who terrifies you still to some degree, slowly doesn't feel like such a stranger anymore, you're right to still be cautious around him but as the days, the weeks, pass by, there's simply a different air about him, and in the shack. lighter, in a sense.

you find yourself growing used to the new daily - the new routine. of waking to the sound of him getting ready for the day, of being left alone in there for hours sometimes, others trailing after him like a duckling, around the older womans' property, helping with an array of tasks. and you worry about upsetting her at first, unsure if doing so will earn a knife to the throat. you listen, you do as you're told, you find some kind of way to co-exist - all the while still, in the back of your mind, there's still a ray of hope,

that maybe, maybe, since the rest of them got away - that they're merely licking their wounds, that they'll get word out and even with all the silence since they had been on the property, there's that shred of hope that maybe? someone will waltz in, guns blazing so to speak, and you'll get out of this hell finally.

that is, until that day - that you're skimming through the paper, and you recognize yourself in a little column - and you realize you're staring at your own fucking obituary.

and in that moment everything seems solidified.

you're never getting away.

there's no point in it.

there's no one out there who are still trying to find you, get you back, bring you home, back to your mothers' arms, back to being an older sister, back to the circle of friends you loved so dearly.

you're dead.

not just to the world, but to those you loved - those who claimed to have loved you, too.

what else do you have at that point? where else do you go, even if you still tried to leave? who wouldn't look at you sideways for the blood that's already stained your hands? for the flesh caught between teeth?

who else is there, except the one murmuring encouragement and praise in your ear?

the only constant you've had in all these weeks? whose words rang true - clearly - that no one cared? that they abandoned you? left you there, didn't even care to make sure you were alive or not? only thought of themselves and got the fuck outta there without confirming if you were even still alive.