#the implications are there and intentional

[donnerpartyofone]

I don't really know how to say this without sounding like I'm trying to make some sort of statement, which is really not my intention, but Pamela Anderson has become, but was not always, the cutest person I've ever seen. She was pretty ubiquitous when I was growing up but I never really contemplated her, and I haven't been that tuned into the uplifting second act she's had going; she was just never a topic for me. Possibly I found her sort of oppressive, symbolically speaking, since she illustrated this unattainable ideal that was used against women at large to make us all miserable, but I basically had her filed away as representing a whole world I wasn't part of. But today she doesn't look like a representative of a category, she looks like a unique individual, and every time an image of her appears I go WOAH, who is THAT?? She's so cool and unusual, she looks like a Bergman woman, I love what she's wearing! And she seems so nice!

The experience reminds me of the time when a friend of mine had to move into my apartment while hers was being renovated. She was probably the most beautiful woman I've ever met in person, and she was very meticulous about her appearance. (She was a punk rock chick, but still very much meeting and maintaining a Beauty Standard) Only because she was staying at my place did I get to see her with no makeup on, and she was of course still stunningly gorgeous, but she looked like a completely different person. Her daytime self had these dark pinup girl eyebrows, smoky shadow and eyeliner, and poreless white skin, and without the makeup her lashes and eyebrows were nearly invisible and she had this cute spray of freckles. She was really dissatisfied with this visual identity, and said amusing things like "Eyebrows are meant to be seen," which stuck with me -- so she ingeniously crafted this look that was more reflective of the kind of person she felt like, and that's a great talent (and, to some degree, privilege). And I would never dream of saying to her "Oh honey, you're so much prettier without makeup," and that's not even what I thought; it was just that her other-self was so strikingly different, different even to the other women who would have been her "competition" socially, that in a certain way it had more power. I guess I feel that way about Pamela Anderson, that she used to look the way everyone in the world was trying to look, and now -- regardless of the political implications of wearing less, or no makeup -- she is so eye-catching and intriguing and fun to look at. And I love the way she dresses now, where can I get a big goofy gray palm tree sweater like that, that will not look remotely the same on me but suddenly I need one anyway??

[rimatsu]

Ok convince me to reject caution and embrace delusion. Why are you so hopeful? 

the safe bet is definitely caution. but regardless of initial intentions, nothing is ever set in stone in the 911 writing room and that’s reason enough to remain hopeful. still, when people say the chances of a reconciliation are non-zero, i think that’s low-balling it. at the very least, we’re at 10% chance, 90% faith.

granted the interviews i (unwillingly) absorbed via osmosis don't exactly inspire confidence but again: 1) tim is fickle as the wind and writers can change their minds at the drop of a hat, 2) nothing that was directly stated by actors or showrunner contradicts the idea of a makeup arc, 3) if the breakup was intentionally designed as a temporary hurdle they’d imply otherwise anyway (oh god i sound like Them don't i.... this is a cry for help)

the reasons why 8x06 could qualify as a temporary split have been extensively discussed so i’ll try to be brief (spoiler: i failed) before tackling what i’d like to see in 8b. buckle up buttercup, i’m a yapper:

1) the breakup wasn’t written as definitive or unfixable. buck and tommy didn’t part because of irreconcilable differences or because passion/attraction fizzled out. if they wanted that door closed, tommy could’ve simply said he was uninterested in pursuing long term commitment with buck, that they’re not compatible in the long run — there: a clean, uncomplicated break. instead, we’re told that tommy desperately wants to be the person buck settles down with, but he’s convinced buck is propelled by the excitement of novelty, that he suspects buck is latching onto him for the wrong reasons, that he can’t allow himself to merge their home life together in fear he’ll never recover once buck wants out. the implications here being tommy is in love with buck already. for his part, buck came to the realization that he wants a future with tommy and immediately decided to pursue it because that's just the type of man he is: never one to do things by half-measures, seeing no value in waiting once his mind is made up. so there’s no conflicting desire there. they want the same thing: permanence with each other. the next two episodes also paint a strange picture if the goal is a definitive separation. buck bakes excessively in an attempt to cope when he never needed a coping mechanism following a breakup before, and we’re told several times that he wants to reach out — in fact buck was about to reach out until he was physically stopped. in total, 3 tommy mentions so far. usually we get the one and then buck moves on to greener pastures (abby notwithstanding, but she's an exception and not the rule, main character privilege and all). we were even deliberately shown that tommy considered contacting buck on his own. that's establishing regret and a desire for reconnection on both sides of the equation. again, that’s a never seen before: tommy is an outlier. completely unnecessary if the breakup is a done deal. whether they follow it through or not, the aftermath was written in such a way that there’s ground for a reconciliation if needs be

2) this is the first buck break up to happen during the first act of the season, something that’s normally reserved for the finale for maximum impact. why this distinction? strange placement for the end of a romantic storyline if you ask me.

3) they're never going to replicate a LI that checks out as many boxes as tommy does, or recapture the romcom magic that was 7x04-7x06. and it's fine if they don't, not all endgame romances need to be the most memorable of the bunch, but it'd be stupid to let the remaining potential go to waste. it's undeniable, the show is nearing its end, i don't imagine they get renewed past s10. if they go the natalia route again and introduce a LI at the last moment, it's going to pale in comparison to the other viable option, one that has pre-established history and connection to buck/the 118. inadvertently or not, they set up an epic love story of intertwined fate. tommy has literally haunted the narrative since the pilot: one of the very first thing abby reveals is that she’s not over tommy breaking off their (retconned) engagement. as such, tommy has played a pivotal role in shaping buck into the man he is today: if tommy hadn’t transferred out to harbor station, buck wouldn’t have found his family and his life purpose. if tommy hadn’t left abby, buck wouldn’t have realized that emotional intimacy and romantic connection is what he seeks. if tommy hadn’t kissed him, a huge part of buck’s identity would’ve remained buried and unexplored. how are they possibly going to top a red string theory dating back 8 seasons? they can’t. i’m sure they’re aware of that.

4) why bring our attention to tommy’s admiration and envy for a tight-knit unit like the 118, on three separate occasions, if the ultimate goal isn’t to reward him and integrate him into the makeshift family?

5) idk what it's worth, if it's worth anything at all, but there’s been a substantial amount of displeasure voiced over their breakup. tommy is buck’s most well-received LI to date. they took a risk with the Big Bisexual Reveal and it paid off with increased engagement and viewership. if they were still debating a reconciliation, surely they've heard that at least some people will eagerly welcome a makeup arc with open arms.

i'm a broken record so i'm probably repeating myself but here goes my ideal timeline for the rest of the season (not a speculation, not wishful thinking, but a secret third thing):

i'm gonna operate under the assumption that the breakup happened solely so buck could be at his lowest for the kidnapping plot line with a minimal/reduced support system (no boyfriend AND no best friend around when his pregnant sister is abducted). in other words, i don't think buck will be in a place to venture back into the dating world by 8x09-8x10 quite yet (i don’t actually buy the buck-dates-the-serial-killer theory). he's handled the breakup fairly well but now with the kidnapping & eddie gone/in the process of moving, i assume that's when he really starts to spiral.

(if we get a fourth tommy mention here, i'd say it's a promising sign. it’d be a purposeful way to keep him in viewers’ radar after the 4-month break)

i think getting maddie back after a few days of fear and uncertainty will be a breakthrough for buck and he’ll make a conscious decision to move on from his funk by the end of 8x10.

ideally “jumping back into the pond” would take place in 8x11 to 8x13, starting with a comedic montage of buck in a string of various failed dates. this is the part of the season where i expect him to utter the word bisexual, probably when the topic of exes comes into play. every other queer identity in the show gets labeled and stated in no uncertain terms, but bisexuality is ever only vaguely implied (nancy in ls) or shown but not explicitly spoken (buck and eva). it’s frustrating. personally i choose to believe buck’s lackluster reaction to maddie’s questionable “how many men did she turn gay?” joke was intentional on the writers’ part. it was the perfect opportunity to reaffirm his sexuality but buck didn’t bc he's not fully in tune with his queerness yet. yeah he speedran through his coming out but recalibrating your entire identity after 3 decades of presumed heterosexuality is a complex process rifled with ups and downs. i hope it gets explored with more care and depth in future episodes.

supposedly we know two things: the fling is another form of coping mechanism, and it's short-lived. chances are it's going to be a woman, and i'd love for it to be a bi girl bc 1) yay bi4bi m/f representation, 2) he's dating someone who can intimately relate to his experience and can maybe offer some additional clarity where clarity is still needed.

my other preferred scenario is that he meets a guy who immediately clocks that buck is still hung up on his ex and not emotionally available for anything more than casual fun. basically give buck a sex friend who can expose him to the LA gay scene. if my memory serves me right, OS said he'd like to see buck in queer spaces. i would like to see it too (we could’ve had that exploration with tommy but i digress….)

long story short, he eventually meets someone he has chemistry with, but it's still not as easy or companionable or butterfly-inducing as it was with tommy. buck gets back home from the seemingly successful date and he just... starts baking — wordlessly communicating to the audience that he’s still plagued by Tommy Thoughts.

now if i put on my clown shoes, i’d say the bts pictures of the 217 engines suggest an upcoming bucktommy reunion on a call (surely they were made for a reason. right. RIGHT????), ideally in 8x14. i’ve babbled about it here, but the sparknotes version is:

- there's a 5 alarm high-rise fire requiring ground and aerial ops. tommy is tasked with delivering firefighters to the roof, including the 118. the chopper ride to destination is understandably awkward but professional enough

- tommy joins ground ops once he’s completed his maximum hours of flight. he ends up trapped in a pocket of rubbles with buck after a partial structural collapse. that’s when they hash it out. it’s not pretty: they’re on edge and exhausted and full of adrenaline and words aren’t sugarcoated or minced. but they’re honest, and afterward they understand each other’s perspective.

it has been said before, but i don't think buck registered the underlying message of the breakup. we know he doesn't handle rejection well, and it's likely he was so hyperfocused on being told no that he didn’t compute the “no matter how much i want to be (your last)” part. that’d explain the 118’s strange response to the split. if i was told “my boyfriend broke up with me because he thinks i'll eventually break his heart once i figure out he's not who i truly want” i’d strongly advise communication before calling it quit prematurely. but if my friend told me “my boyfriend broke up with me when i asked him to move in bc he doesn't think we'll last bc i don’t know what i want” i would trust that they relayed the correct story and i too would discourage contact.

anyway buck has stated that he doesn’t want to chase after someone who doesn’t want him before, but now he knows that wanting was never the issue with tommy, that the breakup was fueled by insecurities and fears and trauma rather than disinterest. at first, it’s presented as reaching a necessary closure: once the fire is contained, buck and tommy part way with another “see you around, buck. i truly hope you find what you’re looking for” and a bittersweet smile. except now buck has had another breakthrough, he’s full of renewed resolved and clarity, and he’s ready to fight for this relationship, so he shows up at tommy’s doorstep the next night and pleads his case.

in 8x15-8x16, we see them readjust to being a couple except this time, it's with the knowledge that they both want serious in the long run. maybe they discover facets of each other previously kept under wraps for the sake of 'keeping it light and breezy'. also they fuck/fade to black on screen (this is imperative)

the last two episodes are focused on the closing disaster, whatever that might be. in this hypothetical timeline, we get a few more glimpses of domesticity. maybe even establish the setup for a move-in next season when bucktommy discuss buck’s lease.

you can have the helicopter crash as a treat for s9. once they're truly settled with each other and it's bound to be more devastating.

voilà <3 apologies and congratulations for your perseverance if you made it this far. the answer was never supposed to be this lengthy or tangencial oops can you tell i’m obsessed. terminally ill even

[thedeepspacecadet]

Night of Secrecy

Summary: A retelling of Night of Secrecy from the POV of a paranoid and anxious Sylus, based on my previous post.

Word Count: 1.2k words

Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x MC, no smut but definitely intimate, angst with a happy ending, mentions of myth and Sylus lore

this is my first ever fanfic, i would love feedback!! also, I am incapable of naming things sorry about the title!

Thump, thump, thump.

Sylus wondered if you could hear his heart beating out of his chest as he carried you to his room. Did you feel it fluttering under his skin as you pushed him onto the couch? As you mounted his lap, did you get a peek behind the mask he donned just for you that night? Sylus, who was cocky and confident by nature, felt as if he was about to come undone. He couldn't bear to show you how nervous he was and he hoped that he was still coming across as his normal, laidback self.

He had been on his best behavior since you left the N109 Zone after the auction. He realized, almost too late, that he was pushing you too far and too fast. As he watched you leave for Linkon, he made a pact with himself to let you set the pace. Sylus refused to let his own greed and desire get in the way of finally being with you again. He made his intentions clear with you whenever he could, never shying away from admitting how much he cared for you. But at the same time, he did his best to not pressure you into reciprocating those feelings. He was simply happy that you allowed his unabashed flirting. Sylus wanted to make it clear to you that if you were ever ready, he would be waiting for your with open arms. Now, he could finally admit to himself that his restraint had paid off. Despite his actions during your first trip to the N109 Zone, you were finally starting to trust him. Maybe even more than trust him, as evidenced by the fact that he was currently underneath you.

Before he had enough time to process his thoughts on the matter, you were pressing your lips to his. With that simple action, the mask that Sylus had worked so hard to keep in place that night shattered. His first instinct was that he must be dreaming, he was only ever lucky enough to kiss you in dreams, both in this life and his last. His second instinct was to devour you. Before he could act on this impulse, he was proud that he remembered his decision to let you set the pace. He refused to scare you off by being overzealous. He could've spent hours on that couch, hands roaming each other's bodies, only pulling away from the other's lips when one of you needed to breathe. And that was exactly what he planned to do. That is until you asked him to move to the bed.

Sylus decided, as you wrapped your legs around him and he carried you across the room, that his plan needed to change. He could no longer afford to be patient, he already knew how this could end and he still awoke from nightmares with a phantom pain in his chest to remind him. If Sylus could finally have you, and not in some twisted, soul-bound dream, he would do everything in his power to make the most of this moment. But as he laid you down on the bed, he couldn't help but retreat into his own paranoia. In the haze of your touch, he had forgotten the implications of you being with him. Your career, your freedom, everything you had worked for could be gone just by being with him here tonight. He had hurt you, kidnapped you, forced you to resonate. He could almost laugh at how incredulous it sounded, one of the top hunters in bed with the Association's most wanted criminal. If he was finally coming to this realization, he worried that you would follow suit. Could he really be this selfish? His hands were moving before his brain could overwhelm him with the guilt.

He did the only thing he could think to do: cover your eyes and tell you not to look. It seemed almost juvenile, like playing peek-a-boo with a child. But what other option did he have? Lest you open your eyes and see not your kindred spirit, but the monster this incarnation of you has come to know. He wouldn't survive the pain of you regretting this, couldn't live with the thought that you might change your mind. Sylus hoped that if he could just keep you from looking at him, you might not see all of his faults. The desire to feel his love reciprocated by you was drowning him. He made a valiant effort to keep his hands over your eyes until he was so drunk on the feeling of your body under him that he lost sight of his goal to keep you in the dark. As his hands finally got another chance to explore you, he felt his mask slip back into place, his smug demeanor finally back. It certainly helped when you made your own greed known. Sylus allowed himself permission to be greedy back, and with your consent, he was ready to swallow you whole.

His joy lasted for what felt like a millisecond, before he felt your hand on his chest, pushing him away. A voice in the back of his mind reared its ugly head and sneered, of course she would come to her senses, why would she want a monster like you. Bile rose in the back of his throat, but he pushed through. With his last breath before his mask broke yet again, he asked if you truly wanted to stop. To his disbelief and delight, you answered him by pulling him into another kiss. He spent the rest of the night worshipping you, taking every crumb that you gave him and savoring it like it was his last meal. For all he knew, it could have been.

In the morning, he woke to you in his arms and he didn't bother to hide his happiness. You stayed and that was all that mattered. After a quick shower to wash the last few hours off of him, Sylus had fully expected to crawl back in bed with you until he had to leave. Instead, he was greeted by a cold bed and an empty room. You were gone. He didn't know if you had finally decided that being with him was a mistake, or maybe you had just used him to blow off some steam. Whatever the reason, at least you weren't there to see him fall to his knees. It was almost a relief, really, that you finally comprehended just how ill-fated a relationship between the two of you would be. Sylus surely wasn't strong enough or selfless enough to let you go, even if that would have been best for you. He made peace with the fact that he would just have to beg you for any scrap of yourself that you could give him, if only so he would have a reason to stay by your side.

His downward spiral was interrupted by a car horn blaring outside of his window. He couldn't help but smile as he peered through the glass and saw you waiting outside in the car. When he made his way outside, he certainly couldn't hide his surprise when you made your intentions to stand by his side clear. It was almost pathetic, how quickly you could change his mood. He was like a puppy, when you called he came running. Maybe he could've tried harder to stop himself from kissing you right then and there, but what would be the point? He was sure you could hear his heart confessing to you on his behalf anyway, with its incessant thump, thump, thump.

[elryuse]

Flower Of Evil

Yandere Bibi X Male Reader

Tags : Female Teacher Bibi, Male Teacher Reader, Yandere, Obsession, FUCKING CRAZY YANDERE GIRLSSS, Gore, Thriller, Killer Words : 5,808 Words

A Wonderful and Dangerous Looking Fic Commision for My Friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. I hope You Guys Like it.

Hana All-Girls High School wasn’t the kind of place you expected to end up teaching at. The ornate gates, sprawling cherry blossom trees, and whispers of an elite reputation gave the school an air of refinement that seemed more suited for a period drama than real life. The school grounds were pristine, almost unnervingly so, with neatly trimmed hedges and meticulously arranged flowerbeds that were a riot of color all year round.

Being the only male teacher in such a prestigious institution came with its challenges—and unexpected perks. The students’ giggles and sly glances were harmless enough, albeit a little awkward at times, while the occasional over-the-top friendliness from certain faculty members made things interesting. There was a certain charm to being the center of attention, but you also knew the risks. Too much attention in a place like this could be a dangerous thing.

But there was one person who stood out above the rest: Ms. Kim Hyung-seo, known to the staff and students as “Bibi.” With her sharp wit, piercing gaze, and an undeniable presence, Bibi was magnetic. Her long, dark hair framed a face that was as elegant as it was enigmatic, and her wardrobe—always a perfect blend of professional and alluring—didn’t go unnoticed. Her intelligence and charisma made her popular among the students and staff alike, but it was the way she focused her attention on you that made her impossible to ignore.

You and she had struck up an easy camaraderie, often sharing coffee during breaks or exchanging quips during meetings. She had a dark sense of humor that matched your own, making her a welcome confidante in a school filled with pastel colors and prim behaviors. Yet, despite the undeniable chemistry, you kept things professional. You weren’t blind to the implications of being the sole male teacher in an all-girls’ school. Lines had to be drawn, and you were determined to stay on the right side of them.

It was during one of those casual coffee breaks that Bibi first hinted at something more. “You know, it’s not every day we get someone like you here,” she said, her tone playful but her eyes intent. “A lone wolf among a sea of flowers. Must be… intoxicating.”

You chuckled, brushing off the comment. “It has its moments,” you replied. “But it’s just a job at the end of the day.”

“Just a job?” she repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Come on, Y/n. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention just a little bit.”

“I enjoy the teaching,” you said diplomatically. “The rest… is just noise.”

She laughed, a low, melodious sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re interesting, you know that?” she said. “Most people would jump at the chance to be in your position. But you—you keep your distance. It’s… admirable. And frustrating.”

There was a weight to her words, a tension that lingered in the air long after the conversation ended. You didn’t dwell on it too much at the time, chalking it up to harmless flirtation. But in hindsight, it was a warning you should have heeded.

It was late, the school’s faculty lounge dimly lit as you finished grading papers. The soft hum of the vending machine and the distant sound of rain against the windows were the only sounds breaking the silence. You’d stayed late to catch up on work, your desk piled high with essays and test papers. The exhaustion was starting to set in when the sound of heels clicking on the tile floor announced Bibi’s arrival.

“Burning the midnight oil, I see,” she said, sliding into the seat across from you. Her voice was smooth, almost soothing, but there was an edge to it that made you glance up. Her smile was playful, but her eyes… there was something in them you couldn’t quite place. Hunger, maybe? Or was it something darker?

“Just trying to stay ahead,” you replied, forcing a smile. “The workload here doesn’t leave much room for procrastination.”

“You work too hard,” she said, leaning forward. “You need someone to take care of you.”

You laughed awkwardly, shaking your head. “I’m fine, really. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “I mean it,” she said, her tone softening. “You’re always so composed, so distant. You don’t let anyone in. It’s not healthy, you know.”

“That’s kind of you, Bibi, but I—”

“I’m serious,” she interrupted, her voice dropping to a whisper. “We’re good together. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

The sudden intensity of her words caught you off guard. You hesitated, searching for the right response. “Bibi, I value our friendship, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix work and… personal matters.”

Her smile faltered, then disappeared entirely. For a moment, her face was unreadable, and then she laughed—a low, unsettling sound that sent a chill down your spine. “I see,” she said, her tone unnervingly calm. “You’re one of those types. Always keeping a distance.”

“It’s not like that,” you began, but she held up a hand to silence you.

“It’s fine,” she said, standing abruptly. Her movements were sharp, almost mechanical. “You’ll see things my way. Sooner or later.”

She left without another word, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway. You sat there for a long time, the weight of her words settling over you like a suffocating blanket. Something about the way she’d spoken, the way she’d looked at you, made your skin crawl. You tried to shake it off, convincing yourself that it was just a misunderstanding, but deep down, you knew better.

The first disappearance was written off as a student skipping town. Hana High had its fair share of rebellious teens, and it wasn’t uncommon for students to run away from the pressures of their privileged lives. Emily Kang was one of your quieter students, a shy girl with a love for literature and a talent for staying invisible. When she didn’t show up to class one day, it barely raised an eyebrow.

The second disappearance, however, couldn’t be ignored. Sarah Lee was a star athlete, a bright and vivacious girl who had dreams of making it to the Olympics. Her sudden absence sent shockwaves through the school, and the administration scrambled to maintain control of the narrative. Whispers began to circulate, rumors spreading like wildfire among the students.

By the third disappearance, the school was in a state of quiet panic. Every missing girl was from your class, their last known locations eerily close to your classroom or office. The whispers started almost immediately.

“Do you think Mr. [Your Last Name] had something to do with it?”

“He’s the only man here. Isn’t that… suspicious?”

You tried to keep your head down, but the weight of their gazes was suffocating. Even the faculty seemed wary, their once-friendly smiles replaced with strained politeness. All except for Bibi.

“Ignore them,” she said one afternoon, her tone almost tender. “They’re just scared. You’re not like that, and I know it.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, though her words did little to ease your anxiety.

It started with small things. Subtle, almost unnoticeable at first.

Bibi’s once-playful comments became sharper, laced with an undertone that felt heavier than before. Her lingering stares grew longer, her presence more pervasive. If you stayed late grading papers, she’d appear in the faculty lounge as though summoned, her voice warm yet uncomfortably intimate.

“Working late again, [Your Name]?” she’d ask, setting her things down far too close to yours. “You know, you’re going to burn yourself out.”

“I’ll be fine,” you’d reply, trying to brush her off. But she didn’t take the hint.

She started bringing you little gifts—a coffee placed quietly on your desk, a neatly wrapped bento left in the teacher’s lounge with your name on it. When you thanked her, she’d smile and brush it off, saying, “It’s nothing. You need someone to look after you, don’t you?”

At first, you chalked it up to her being kind—maybe overly kind. But then the notes began.

Folded pieces of paper left in your desk drawer, tucked between lesson plans, or slipped into your bag. At first, they were innocuous: “You work too hard. Don’t forget to take care of yourself.” Then they grew more personal: “I can’t stop thinking about you. Why do you keep your distance?” And finally, unsettling: “We’re meant to be together. You’ll see that soon.”

You told yourself not to overreact, that she was probably just being dramatic. But a knot of unease began to twist in your stomach every time she was near.

Meanwhile, the school’s atmosphere had turned tense. The disappearances of the students cast a heavy shadow over the once-bright hallways. Fear rippled through the faculty as meetings grew longer and stricter policies were enacted. The headmistress, Ms. Ahn, called for heightened vigilance, urging the staff to look out for anything unusual.

“Nothing about this feels random,” Ms. Ahn said during one meeting, her voice firm but laced with worry. “We need to be vigilant. Our students’ lives depend on it.”

The staff nodded solemnly, but the silence was heavy. You could feel the eyes of your coworkers on you, brief flickers of suspicion that burned into your skin. The whispers had grown louder, and no amount of professionalism could drown them out entirely.

“It’s always his class…” “Do you think he knows more than he’s saying?” “No one’s saying it, but come on—he’s the only man here.”

Bibi, however, remained steadfast in her support of you—or so it seemed. “Don’t let them get to you,” she said one afternoon, cornering you in the library where you’d sought refuge. Her hand brushed against your arm, lingering longer than necessary. “They’re just scared. They don’t know you like I do.”

Her words were meant to be reassuring, but there was a possessiveness in her tone that made your skin crawl.

The rain poured heavily that night, drumming against the windows of the faculty lounge as you packed up your things. The building was almost eerily quiet, the usual bustle of students and teachers replaced by the hollow sound of distant thunder.

You were halfway out the door when Bibi appeared, her umbrella dripping with rainwater. “Leaving already?” she asked, her voice light but carrying an edge you couldn’t place.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a polite smile. “It’s late. I should get going.”

Her lips curved into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something.”

You hesitated, every instinct screaming at you to refuse. “What is it?”

“It won’t take long,” she said, stepping closer. Her tone was soft, almost pleading, but there was something behind her eyes—a darkness that made your chest tighten. “There’s some old equipment in the storage room I need help moving. I can’t do it alone.”

It was a reasonable request, but something about the way she said it set off alarm bells in your mind. Still, you couldn’t think of a good excuse to decline. “Sure,” you said reluctantly. “Lead the way.”

She smiled, her expression brightening as though you’d just given her the greatest gift. “This way,” she said, turning on her heel and motioning for you to follow.

The storage room was in the oldest wing of the school, a part of the building that was rarely used and often avoided. The hallway leading to it was dimly lit, the flickering fluorescent lights casting eerie shadows on the walls.

“Why are we storing equipment all the way back here?” you asked, trying to mask the unease in your voice.

“It’s just temporary,” Bibi replied, glancing back at you with a smile. “Budget cuts and all that.”

The storage room itself was cramped and cluttered, filled with old desks, broken chairs, and other discarded items. The smell of dust and mildew was overwhelming, and you instinctively wrinkled your nose.

“What do you need me to move?” you asked, eager to get this over with.

Bibi didn’t answer right away. Instead, she closed the door behind you with a soft click, her movements slow and deliberate.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said suddenly, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of tension that sent a chill down your spine.

You froze, turning to face her. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she said, stepping closer. Her eyes bore into yours, intense and unblinking. “You’ve been pulling away ever since… that night.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” you said carefully, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I’ve just been busy. You know how things have been around here.”

She laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “Busy? Is that the excuse you’re going with?”

“Bibi, I don’t know what you want from me,” you said, your voice firm but steady. “But this isn’t the time or place for—”

“You don’t know what I want?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “I’ve made it so obvious, haven’t I? I’ve been patient, [Your Name]. I’ve been so patient. But you just keep pushing me away.”

Her words hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating. Your heart raced as you realized the door was still closed behind her, the only exit blocked by her presence.

“Bibi,” you said cautiously, taking a step back. “I think we should talk about this another time. Let’s just—”

“No,” she said sharply, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. “We’re talking about it now. I’ve waited long enough.”

Her hand darted out, grabbing your wrist with a grip that was surprisingly strong. “You don’t have to be scared,” she said, her tone softening but her grip unyielding. “I can take care of you. I can protect you. You don’t need anyone else.”

Your mind raced, every instinct screaming at you to get out of there. “Bibi, you’re scaring me,” you said, your voice low but steady.

Her expression faltered, her grip loosening for just a moment. “Scaring you?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to scare you. I just… I want you to see that we’re perfect for each other. That no one else can love you the way I do.”

Before you could respond, the faint sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, growing louder with each passing second. Bibi’s eyes widened, and for the first time, you saw something resembling fear cross her face.

“We’ll finish this later,” she said quickly, releasing your wrist and stepping back. Her voice was calm again, but her eyes burned with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

And then, just like that, she was gone, leaving you alone in the dimly lit storage room with the echoes of her words still ringing in your ears.

The next day, the atmosphere at Hana All-Girls High School was thick with a sense of dread. What had once been a place of pristine order and careful decorum now felt suffocating, as if the very walls themselves were closing in on the remaining staff and students. The administration had called for an emergency assembly that morning, but no one had any answers. The disappearances, once seen as isolated incidents, had now escalated into something far more sinister.

The number of missing girls had skyrocketed overnight. It wasn't just a few anymore. Entire groups of students had vanished, leaving behind only the cold traces of their absence: empty classrooms, untouched desks, and silence where there should have been chatter and laughter. Word had spread like wildfire, and the police were now involved.

At first, it seemed like a routine investigation. Officers had arrived early, their presence a sharp contrast to the usual calm of the school. But things took a turn when an anonymous tip came in to the police station. The caller had reported that the school "reeked of rotting flesh."

The police, initially skeptical, decided to search the school grounds thoroughly. As they combed through the halls and classrooms, something felt off. It wasn’t just the unsettling atmosphere—it was the way the air felt heavier, as if something had shifted in the very foundation of the building.

Their search led them to the oldest wing of the school, the same wing where the storage room was located. It was there that they made the horrifying discovery.

Behind a hidden door in the back of the building, they found what they were looking for. A room that had been sealed off for years, its contents hidden from view. The moment the officers stepped inside, their stomachs lurched with the putrid stench that assaulted them. The smell of decay was unbearable, but it wasn’t just the scent. It was what they found that would haunt them forever.

There, scattered across the floor, were the bodies of fourteen girls—the missing students. Their bodies, though horrifyingly still, were unmistakably recognizable. Each one had been carefully placed, their eyes frozen in terror. Some of them had been there for weeks, the flesh decomposing and leaving behind an undeniable testament to the horrors that had been carried out in the school.

The police immediately cordoned off the area, their faces pale with shock. Their disbelief was palpable as they contacted their superiors and called for backup. Within hours, the entire school had been shut down, and a full investigation was underway. No one could believe what they were seeing. How had something like this gone unnoticed for so long? And who could have done this?

The answer seemed to lie somewhere within the walls of Hana All-Girls High School, and the staff, including you, were now the prime suspects.

As the school was shut down, a team of officers arrived to interview and interrogate every staff member, carefully scrutinizing their movements, their alibis, and their actions in the days leading up to the discovery. They were methodical in their questioning, but there was an unmistakable tension in the air. Everyone was a suspect, but no one seemed to have any answers.

You were pulled aside along with the other teachers for questioning. The interrogation room felt cold, sterile, and far too small for the weight of the situation. They asked you about your interactions with the missing students, about the times you had stayed late, and about any unusual behavior from your colleagues. The questions were pointed, but your mind kept drifting back to Bibi. She was the one who had been so insistent on keeping you close. The one who had shown a possessive streak that now made your skin crawl.

But the officers seemed to have no interest in her—at least not yet. They focused on you, on your proximity to the girls who had disappeared. Your heart raced as you tried to explain yourself, but every answer felt inadequate. How could you explain the unease you had felt around Bibi? How could you explain the mounting tension that had built up, culminating in her increasingly erratic behavior?

The more you spoke, the more it seemed as though you were digging yourself deeper into a hole. The officers' expressions were unreadable, but you could see the way their eyes flickered with suspicion, darting to the door and back to you.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally let you go, but the relief was short-lived. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched—by the police, by your colleagues, by the students. The whispers had grown louder, and now the school was a place of palpable fear.

You tried to leave the school grounds, but as you stepped outside, the weight of the situation hit you all at once. The police had set up a perimeter, blocking off the entrance, their flashing lights painting the campus in an eerie glow. Reporters had gathered outside, their cameras flashing as they tried to get the latest scoop. And then, there was the growing presence of the students—some standing in small groups, some sitting by themselves, all looking at you with expressions that ranged from curiosity to outright suspicion.

In that moment, you realized that the true horror was just beginning. The questions weren’t just about the missing girls anymore. The questions were about you, about everything that had happened in the school, and about Bibi.

Where was she? What had she done? And what role had she played in all of this?

The police were now focused on interviewing every staff member, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Bibi was at the center of it all. Something told you that the nightmare was far from over—and that the darkest part of it was yet to come.

The atmosphere at Hana All-Girls High School had shifted from one of confusion to pure dread. As the investigation tightened, the police presence around the school grew heavier. The corridors that once echoed with the sounds of laughter and youthful chatter were now eerily silent, save for the occasional murmurs of officers and students whispering about what had transpired.

The school administration was on edge, its staff shaken to their core. Everyone was instructed to leave at the exact designated time, no lingering after hours, no exceptions. The rule applied to both students and faculty alike, creating an unspoken air of suspicion that everyone could feel but no one dared to voice.

It became clear that the police were doing everything they could to catch the killer. Surveillance footage from every corner of the school was reviewed, alibis were checked, and every faculty member, no matter how insignificant their role seemed, was interrogated thoroughly. But despite all their efforts, the police were no closer to capturing the killer. Every lead seemed to dissolve into thin air, like smoke vanishing into the wind.

What was even worse than the growing number of missing students was the fact that the disappearances were now no longer sporadic; they were becoming a regular occurrence. Each day, the list of missing girls seemed to grow longer. The school, which had once been a place of prestige and order, had now become a twisted, haunted reminder of its former self.

Then came the terrifying revelation: another body was found. It wasn’t just one. It was a massacre. Fourteen dead students, all from the same school, their bodies gruesomely arranged in various parts of the grounds, some in places so well hidden that it took days to discover them. The police were horrified, unable to comprehend the cruelty of what they were witnessing.

The once pristine halls were now the scene of a horrific investigation. Officers scoured every corner, every hidden room, even areas previously thought to be irrelevant. Every moment felt like it could be their last chance to catch the killer. But despite their best efforts, they were always one step behind. The unsettling truth became more and more apparent: someone inside the school was orchestrating this, and they were good at covering their tracks.

The growing fear spread like wildfire, even among the teachers. Rumors started circulating that the killer was hiding in plain sight, and no one could be trusted. Some of the staff began leaving the school early, a sense of panic and dread creeping into their every step.

Bibi, who had been under increasing suspicion herself, continued to be a strange, comforting presence in the midst of the chaos. She never seemed rattled, never showed signs of fear. In fact, if anything, she seemed to take a certain satisfaction in the growing turmoil. She continued her “support” for you, always appearing at the exact moment you seemed to need her most. Her gestures, once harmless, had taken on a more possessive and unsettling tone.

She would bring you coffee, sit close to you in meetings, and offer a soothing word when you least expected it. But every time she looked at you, there was something in her eyes—something dark and knowing—that made your blood run cold. You could no longer escape the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on.

The police were starting to question her too. They’d asked her about her relationship with the missing girls and had found her interactions with you particularly troubling. Bibi’s charm, however, worked wonders on them. She played the role of the concerned teacher so well, with just the right amount of vulnerability to disarm even the most skeptical officer.

But you weren’t so easily fooled anymore. Her behavior, her obsession, and the way she seemed to draw closer to you with each passing day—it all pointed to something far darker than you could have ever imagined. And as the police continued to dig into the school’s past, they began to uncover unsettling details, things that didn’t add up about certain faculty members and their ties to past tragedies, but the most chilling part of all was that they were still no closer to solving the case.

As the number of missing students grew, the atmosphere grew even more suffocating. Hana High, once an elite institution, was now a prison—a place where students and teachers alike were held captive by fear, suspicion, and the chilling knowledge that the killer could be anyone.

And the one question that lingered in the air was the one that no one dared speak aloud: Who could be behind this, and what did they want?

The day the cops turned their eyes on you was one you’d never forget. It all started with a knock at the door. At first, it was like any other day—quiet, unsettling, as the weight of the ongoing investigation continued to press on your shoulders. But when you opened it, you found two officers standing on the other side. Their faces were grim.

“You need to come with us,” one of them said, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Before you could react, they grabbed your arms, fastening the cold metal cuffs around your wrists. Shock flooded your system, and your heart pounded in your chest as the world around you began to spin. You tried to protest, but the words caught in your throat. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”

“You’re coming with us,” they repeated, dragging you out the door and into their car.

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of the situation. What had you done wrong? You had been trying to help, trying to make sense of the disappearance of your students, but now you were being treated like a criminal. The sting of betrayal was sharp, but deeper still was the sense of helplessness that washed over you. Had everything you tried to do just made things worse?

At the police station, they didn’t waste any time. They questioned you relentlessly, accusing you of being involved in the disappearances, of knowing more than you were letting on. They had been hearing reports about your close relationship with the missing students, and in their eyes, that was enough to make you a prime suspect.

“I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with this!” you protested, voice shaking. “I care about those students—I’ve been trying to help! You have to believe me!”

But every word seemed to fall on deaf ears. The more you tried to explain, the more the officers seemed to tighten their grip, their suspicion growing by the minute. They were convinced you were hiding something, and no amount of pleading was going to change their minds.

Then, in a moment of desperation, you spoke the name that had been haunting you for days.

“Bibi… she’s the one you should be looking at. She’s the one acting strange, saying all sorts of crazy things to me,” you said, your voice trembling as you finally named the one person who had seemed to know too much about the situation. “She’s been obsessed with me, always showing up at the right moment… trying to control everything I do. I swear, she’s hiding something.”

The mention of Bibi’s name seemed to catch the officers’ attention, but not in the way you hoped. They exchanged a look, their eyes narrowing with suspicion. But instead of the relief you thought you’d feel by finally telling them, it only made the air feel heavier.

“She’s a teacher, she’s not involved in this,” one of the officers snapped, his voice cold and dismissive. “You’re just trying to shift the blame.”

You could see it in their eyes now. They didn’t believe you. They had made up their minds, and no amount of protest would change it. The more you spoke, the more their distrust of you grew, like a web tightening around you. The name of the one person you thought might help you only seemed to make things worse.

By the time the interrogation was over, it was clear that they weren’t going to let you go. You were no longer just a witness, no longer just a concerned teacher. You were a suspect. And for now, you were going to jail.

As they escorted you to the holding cell, your heart sank. The door slammed shut behind you, and the cold, sterile walls of the small, dimly lit room seemed to close in around you. There was no escape, no way to prove your innocence. Your mind raced, the confusion turning into anger, into frustration. Why wouldn’t they listen?

In that moment, the only thing you knew for certain was that Bibi was out there, watching all of this unfold, and she had somehow twisted everything to make you the villain in this nightmare.

The worst part was, you couldn’t help but wonder: Had she been manipulating you all along? Was she really the one behind everything, orchestrating this twisted game from the shadows? Or was something even darker at play?

As the hours passed and the realization settled in that you were stuck in this nightmare, one thing became clear—you were going to need more than just luck to get out of this. You needed answers. And the only person who seemed to hold the key to those answers was the very person the cops refused to suspect.

The letter arrived on a cold, dreary morning, its presence in the small holding cell a stark reminder that you were still very much part of a twisted game you couldn’t escape. The envelope, sealed with a smudge of dark red lipstick, was unmistakable. It was from her—Bibi.

Your hands trembled as you tore it open, the words inside searing into your mind like a branding iron.

“You see, this is all your fault. All of it. You could have protected those innocent girls, but you couldn’t protect yourself from me. I gave you a chance, you know. I offered you everything. You could have been mine that night, but you were too weak to accept. And now, look where we are. This could have been so simple. But now, there’s no going back. There’s only me and you. Forever.”

Your chest tightened as you read on, the weight of her words pressing down on you.

“It’s too late now. You can’t stop what’s coming. I’ve taken control of everything. And the only way you can escape… is by accepting me as yours. But since you’re so stubborn, I’ve already gone too far. There’s no turning back now. Not for you. Not for them. Not for anyone.”

The letter ended abruptly, as though Bibi had been too eager to finish her message, her ink-stained handwriting reflecting the twisted delight she took in your torment.

The words echoed in your head. You could have protected them. You could have been hers.

Before you could even begin to process the full weight of her message, you heard it—the unmistakable sound of a car revving, tires screeching against the pavement, growing louder and louder by the second. Your heart skipped a beat, and the sound seemed to reverberate throughout the entire station, the noise growing louder still, until it felt like the walls themselves were shaking.

Then, with a deafening "Banggg!"—a sports car, sleek and black, crashed through the perimeter of the police station parking lot. It tore through the barricades like they were made of paper, coming to a stop just inches from the front of the station. The sound of the impact sent a shockwave through the building, making the windows rattle.

Within seconds, a dozen officers were on their feet, rushing toward the vehicle, their guns drawn, shouting orders to one another. But none of them were ready for what came next.

The door to the car flung open with a jarring screech, and there, standing amidst the chaos, was Bibi. Her once-pristine dress was now drenched in blood—dark, viscous pools dripping onto the ground, her hands gripping something heavy. Something… far too familiar.

You gasped as she stepped out of the car, holding the decapitated head of one of the missing girls in her hands. The lifeless eyes stared vacantly into the distance, the bloodied remains a grotesque testament to her madness.

Bibi's lips curled into a twisted smile as she giggled softly, her footsteps eerily calm against the chaos around her. The cops, now utterly frozen in shock, barely moved as she walked toward you with a slow, deliberate pace. Her eyes locked with yours, gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and something darker—something far worse than you could ever imagine.

You tried to speak, tried to call out, but the words stuck in your throat. You could barely comprehend what you were seeing, and the horror was suffocating.

"I've won," Bibi cooed, her voice sickeningly sweet as she finally reached you. She cupped your face gently, her fingers cold and wet from the blood that coated them. "You're finally mine, now."

Her grip tightened, as if she were claiming victory, sealing your fate with a simple touch. Your body froze in terror, every instinct screaming at you to escape, but you couldn’t move. Her eyes were locked onto yours, and in that moment, you realized there was no escape. She had already won. There was no going back, no saving anyone. You were part of her twisted plan now.

As she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear, she whispered, “You should’ve just accepted me. But now, we’re bound forever.”

The officers around you seemed paralyzed, unable to process what they were witnessing. They could do nothing but stand in shock as Bibi, the person they never thought to suspect, the person who had been playing them all along, took control of everything.

And as she cupped your head in her bloodstained hands, you knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning of something far darker than you could have ever imagined. You had become a pawn in her game. A game that, in the end, only had one winner.

And that winner… was her.

[lies-unfurl]

Elaborating (yes, this is long, wotever, I have lots of thoughts and chronic insomnia):

Regardless of intention, this change implies that the first three CA movies are a separate fandom from CA:BNW. That isn't the case, at all. CA:BNW is Captain America 4. It's not a reboot and it's not like James Bond, where there's historically been relatively little continuity among films. It's a Captain America movie, full stop. There are other cases where fandoms with multiple entries aren't broken out into such granular detail, so this wasn't an inevitable choice.

There are a couple of implications to build on with this. First, users have always been able to filter for specific movies, using their titles in the "Additional Tags" sections. As this post mentions, that would still be the case here. There are also additional tags to specify who's Captain America, plus, obviously, character tags. There really wasn't any need to change the fandom tag.

This is also going to result in a lot of fics being mistagged, since everyone who's been writing CA fics set after Endgame, with Sam as Captain America, are now going to have to manually go in and change the fandom. Like, I think it's important to emphasize that this will disproportionately affect Sam!Cap fics, making them harder to find.

Next, a lot of people in the notes are claiming that this makes filtering easier. As someone who's actually in the CA fandom, I disagree. This is worse for fics that span from CA:CW to CA:BNW, for AUs that are in conversation with the CA movies, but which don't have a specific Captain America, and for AUs where Sam becomes Captain America prior to CA:BNW. Yeah, all of those fics could just be tagged MCU or tagged with both CA tags, but that's a vaguer solution than just having a CA (Movies) tag.

There's also the fact that like... CA:TWS and CA:CW are both Cap movies with both Mackie and Evans! I think a lot of people are just going to end up tagging their fics with both fandoms, which renders this kind of pointless.

And then saying that you can tag both "Marvel Cinematic Universe" and "Captain America: All Media Types" just... doesn't really make sense? Again, that's a tagging structure that's much less specific than just having a tag for the CA movies.

Finally: I know talking about racism in fandom is fraught, I know people are just going to be like "it's not that deep," whatever. "many Steve Rogers fans will likely want to filter out movies where he doesn’t appear" is a statement that would be perfectly neutral and fine if we lived in a perfectly neutral world, but we don't.

The phrasing here is both inaccurate and deliberately dancing around the point -- you know there are going to be plenty of CA:BNW fics where Steve appears. The actual impact of the tag split is that people can (theoretically) filter out fics where Steve isn't Captain America. Choosing to make that distinction against a backdrop where people have continuously posted shit about Sam not really being Captain America, where there has been an immense amount of resistance to having a Black Captain America, is not a choice that exists in a bubble.

And I'm going to assume best intentions and believe that wasn't the goal here. But also, yeah, I think you have the critical thinking skills to recognize that this does more for the "not my Cap" crowd than for the people who have been writing about Sam as Captain America since Endgame, and even before.

There are people in the tags talking about archival best practices. As someone who has both an academic and professional background in that sector, controlled vocabularies should both reflect the needs of the user community and consider the wider context in which they're being applied. This change does neither.

On Your Left! — Changes to Captain America Fandom Tags

Hello! In the near future, Marvel tag wranglers will be updating fandom tags on AO3 to separate the upcoming Captain America movies featuring Sam Wilson as Captain America from the trilogy of films with Steve Rogers as Captain America.

To do this, we will be renaming the fandom Captain America (Movies) to Captain America (Chris Evans Movies) and creating a new fandom named Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies). Both will be made subtags of Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types.

In summary:

Captain America (Chris Evans Movies) will refer to the 2011, 2014, and 2016 movies featuring Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, and Bucky Barnes. 

Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) will refer to the 2025 movie Brave New World featuring Sam Wilson and Joaquín Torres. This fandom tag will also refer to any sequel Captain America movies starring Sam Wilson in the title role.

Fans interested in reading about both movie series can include both Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types in tag filtering. The current fandom tag for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), which is a subtag of Marvel Cinematic Universe but not Captain America - All Media Types, will also be unaffected by these changes. We’ve included more details of our reasoning below, which better explains why we’re making this change.

Why are you making two separate fandom tags? Can’t everyone just keep using “Captain America (Movies)”?

Despite both having the superhero name “Captain America” and the same continuity, fundamentally the main character has changed between the original trilogy and the new 2025 movie. We also wanted to hopefully make it easier for fans to differentiate between which movies and continuities they’re discussing. Many Sam Wilson fans will likely want to filter for the movie where he’s the central focus; conversely, many Steve Rogers fans will likely want to filter out movies where he doesn’t appear. 

We’re specifically using “Chris Evans” and “Anthony Mackie” in the fandom tags as they’re the most recognizable and consistent aspect of the movies. There’s no consistent set of directors between all Chris Evans Captain America movies, and actor names are much more recognizable than including multiple years in the fandom tags. This style of making fandom tags named after actors is similar to other fandoms on AO3. For example, there are many James Bond movie fandom tags which differentiate via the actors’ names. 

The Marvel Cinematic Universe is also not the only time Captain America has been adapted to the big screen: there’s a 1944 movie starring Dick Purnell, a 1979 movie starring Reb Brown, and a 1990 movie starring Mat Salinger. The current fandom tag Captain America (Movies) is worded in a way that technically encompasses these unrelated movies as well. It doesn’t make sense for these unrelated continuities to share one fandom tag, so we would have changed the existing Captain America (Movies) tag to be more specific regardless of the release of Brave New World. 

Like we mentioned above, fans interested in reading about both MCU movie series at once can filter for both Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types.

Why Mackie Movies instead of Brave New World?

The movie title has already changed several times in between promotion and release. It’s also highly likely Marvel will make sequel movies. Formatting the tag as Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) prevents the disruption of renaming the fandom tag in the future. 

We will be creating an Additional Tag for Captain America: Brave New World, similar to how there are Additional Tags for Movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) and Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021). We hope the Additional Tag will help fans filter for specific movies within the broader series of movies.

Why does Brave New World get a separate fandom tag while First Avenger, Winter Soldier, and Civil War would still share? 

Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and Captain America: Civil War all encompass the trilogy centering around Steve Rogers. While Captain America: Brave New World is also set in the same continuity, the main character and actor has changed, and the role of Sam Wilson has changed from being a supporting character to the main focus.

It’s likely that Marvel will release sequel movies to Brave New World, which will not receive separate fandom tags and would instead also be covered by the new Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) tag. We hope that separating the fandom tags now will prevent the messiness of renaming tags again in the future, and also allow fans to filter for works that focus on the specific Captain America they are looking for. 

(From time to time, ao3org posts announcements of recent or upcoming wrangling changes on behalf of the Tag Wrangling Committee.)

[lies-unfurl]

idk sorry to harp on this, but like. I know MCU Sam Wilson fandom isn't as big as Sherlock Holmes, but I think it really needs to be emphasized that there are now thousands of Sam-centric fics on AO3 that have an incorrect fandom tag. These are fics that were written after the Evans-as-Cap era wrapped up, that deal with Sam as Captain America. Defaulting all of those stories to "Captain America (Chris Evans movies)" impedes discoverability, and like... also actively disregards the fact that the fandom in general has been acknowledging Mackie as Cap for almost six years!

If there was ever a correct time to split the tags, it would've been immediately after Endgame, when it was obvious this change was coming. Doing it now, and defaulting all the fics that have been posted to the Evans era, obscures years of fanworks.

And like I said in my last post, I want to assume best intentions. But I've also been on AO3 for over a decade. And to be completely honest, I don't trust that anyone involved in this decision took half a second to say, "Hmmm. What are the implications of synning all these works that center a Black character, whose promotion to Captain America brought about well-documented racist reactions, to a tag with the previous white actor as a default?"

This was a poor decision, and anyone who claims that it was following archival best practices straight-up doesn't know what they're talking about.

[lame-cameoliob]

The Narritive Potential of lower level! Kallus

Alright literally nobody asked and this is totally just me thinking way too much, but I NEEEEEEDDD to talk about the Kallus from the lower levels headcanon and just how much narrative potential it has

(also If you see anything spelled wrong or phrased weirdly NO YOU DIDN’T)

To be completely frank I think that Kallus’ character is almost out of place in a children's TV show– DO NOT GET ME WRONG, he is a fantastic character that is integral to the Rebels plot, but many implications made by his character are much more fitting in shows with higher ratings– that’s why he comes of so fucking ridiculous half of the time, he is a character with massive implications, but he has to be readable to a younger audience. PLUSSS Rebels was made on a tiny budget compared to other Star Wars animated projects, so the producers could not put time or money into further delving into his arc because they needed to focus on the main cast. They couldn’t afford to go into smaller character-centric arcs like in the clone wars. Now, taking that into account, it is no doubt that Kallus has an incredible character arc (tbh I’d say the best in Star Wars, but i might be glazing idk) but there are aspects of that arc that could not be explored more due to the aforementioned restrictions on the production side.

Thing is, Star Wars is all about making connections to the real world (ex. Return of the Jedi was an allegory for the vietnam war– or also THE ENTIRETY OF ANDOR) And although Kallus’ arc already does that on a baseline level, its potential for drawing these connections was for sure not explored to its fullest. 

Now, I know you didn’t sign up for a lesson in world history and politics when you started reading this but you’re gonna have to stick with me to see where I’m coming from; 

It is no secret that the greatest defense against propaganda is education. That’s why maps that show which states have less extensive education and maps that show which states are conservative look nearly identical. That’s why conservative states are far more likely to pass legislation that bans books with political content; they need people to continue to be uneducated in order to keep the state conservative. Even if we omit nefarious political intent, in order for educational institutions to truly thrive they need funding (which tends to be severely lacking in conservative communities) State legislation aside, some school systems literally cannot afford to give their students an all encompassing education. And next to that, in many impoverished rural communities, you end up having kids that need to start working early on in order to make money to support themselves and their families OR they start working early just cause they want to (bootstraps mentally and all that); these kids do not have a reason to set aside their time to sit down and think about the politics of the world around them, which is why a lot of people end up just falling in line with the conservative mindset that surrounds them. 

“What about the people who aren’t conservative / patriotic? How do they play into this?” You may ask– AND LET ME TELL YOU– it’s not really a huge secret that the United States Military does this quirky little thing where they pay for your college and give you financial benefits while you’re an active service member. That’s actually a MASSIVE recruitment tactic that they use in schools! IN FACT, (as someone who grew up in a blue state) wherever military recruiters would come to my school to yk…recruit people, they would almost ALWAYS stress the financial benefits more than promoting the whole “SERVE YOUR COUNTRY RAHHH AMERICA” thing . 

So basically it’s a system that sets children up for failure by leaving them broke and struggling, and some of those children grow up in areas where they are funneled into having certain political beliefs without the resources needed to form their own opinion, OR you have kids that just want to reap financial benefits because living is too damn expensive. (And of course there are people who fit into BOTH or neither of the categories; I’m generalizing a little bit for the sake of keeping this post shorter than it could be) (This is a very nuanced subject and I know that, I just don't want to make you all read an entire essay)

The issue comes when these misinformed children grow into adults, and those adults become dangerous. 

BACK TO STAR WARS

So there’s not really a whole lot of extensive canon lore (at least that I’ve seen) about how the Coruscant economic system works, but I think it's fairly obvious that it is operating on a capitalistic system not unlike the united states, where the richest of the rich own most of the wealth, and the rest of the population are left living paycheck to paycheck; it’s just that some paychecks are bigger than others. 

It is this system that allows for the lower levels to fall into complete poverty. None of the wealth from the top is trickling down (literally) and the people in the lower levels are left fighting for scraps. 

Most areas in the lower levels are controlled by money hungry gangs, and corrupt law enforcement does what these gangs want just because they’re paid to. The further down you go the less control The Republic has; at some point you reach a depth where the Republic has zero influence. And even if they did, at this point in history, most of the senate no longer represents the people.

THIS IS WHERE KALLUS COMES IN 

I want you to imagine being a kid in the lower levels. You’re fighting for your next paycheck so that you can help pay rent, you’re shoplifting and picking pockets just so that you can eat. You cannot afford to live. And not only that; you’re suffering from intense vitamin deficiencies, the air is undoubtedly toxic, the water probably isn’t good to drink. You are exhausted. Physically, mentally, even subconsciously, you are a kind of bone-deep tired that nobody– ESPECIALLY A KID– should ever have to feel. If you can even afford to go to school you’re not leaving with a better understanding of the galaxy, because all you’re worried about is finding something to eat and going the fuck to sleep. But that's your normal, you’ve never known anything different. 

You’re not thinking of ways to question the system, you’re too tired to. 

And you don’t care about The Republic because The Republic doesn’t care about you. 

But then The Empire rolls around. And the Republic didn’t give a fuck about you, but maybe the Empire will– besides you don’t really care about the politics of it all, because you see that they offer free room and board to those who enlist, and that is your one way ticket out of the fucking hell hole that you’ve had to endure for your entire life. 

And so you enlist. And even if you didn’t care about politics before, the people around you do, and they are telling you exactly what to think without giving you the resources to form an opinion of your own. 

If Kallus grew up in the lower levels, that would have been his reality. He would have been the perfect person to indoctrinate because he came from a system that wouldn’t have allowed him to know any better.

This is especially palpable when we think about why he became Fulcrum in the first place;

He educated himself in ways that the empire did not allow him to be educated before. He asked questions and he did not like the answers that he got. 

He realizes that he’s been fed lies and propaganda that have made him complacent in a system that had done immeasurable evil, and he HATES that. He realizes that he does NOT believe what the empire believes and that he has to align his actions with HIS opinions, not the empires.

He realizes that harm that his ignorance has done and he takes it upon himself to lock THE FUCK IN in an attempt to help and rebalance the scales. 

(And this bit is kind of a side note, but idk where else to put this:if Kallus comes from a background like the one listed above where he is constantly fighting for survival, he becomes a narrative foil of EZRA!!! They become two sides of the same coin; a kid whos impoverished because of the Empires cruelty, only looking out for himself until his worldview is changed for the better by the kindness of the people around him VERSUS a kid whos impoverished because of the Republics failures, only looking out for himself and CONTINUing TO DO SO as his worldview is changed for the worse by the greed of the people around him.) (DO YALL GET WHAT IM SAYING??? I FEEL LIKE IM ONTO SOMETHING THERE??)(I MIGHT BE CRAZY BUT LIKE I FEEL LIKE THATS ⁉️⁉️)

All of this is really just to say that Kallus is the perfect example of the dangers of complacency. He is the bystander effect at its worst. He admits that he “never asked questions,” simply because the empire told him not to, and he becomes dangerous because of it. He does evil shit just ‘cause he’s told to. The empire says that a certain number of civilian deaths fall within an “acceptable margin” and he just shrugs his shoulders and goes “yeah, okay, if you say so.” 

Already in canon, he is an example of what people can become if they refuse to question the systems in power, but when you take into account the possibility that he’s from the lower levels, he also becomes an example of how people end up in a system where they are set up for failure so that they don’t end up questioning those systems in the first place. He’s an example of how the Empire benefits from systematic suffering because the people who suffer without even realizing it are the people most easily shaped into pawns. 

End of rant

[energ00n]

Okay I'm gonna apologize for the piss poor reading compression sight pissing on the poor in your in box fucking constantly. Your art and intentions are actually VERY clear. Like D-16 being an ass on purpose via lying to elita and himself about how much Orion means to him on PURPOSE (there is also the assumption he doesn't know hes crushing yet, which mostly confirmed via that one comic of not knowing he's jealous of Jazz.) - I'm still so fucking flabbergasted people thought this was a misunderstanding some fucking how???? Anyway, thanks for sharing your art of your au regardless of people being dumb. As an artist who's had something get popular, I'd recommend (if you haven't already anyway) to just start blocking people if they continue to hound you about stuff like Bumblebee. (I like Bumblebee a lot, actually, but I hate the Fandoms' most popular versions of him, so hahha, I'm suffering!!) Because you've done so many warnings and asks for people to stop at this point. It might seem petty, but remember to put your own enjoyment first and for most. Anyway, I hope you have a good day/week (^-^)/

Oh your words been comforting me for a bit thank you very much

I like a certain subtlety in my work, but when it’s the very intentional thing getting misinterpreted it sort of makes me question my ability to do storytelling. It’s one of the reasons I get sooo agitated when i get asks that are just ??? The very obvious or an interpretation so wrong I don’t know what mistake I made for that to happen. I don’t want to write things outright, spoon feed information that would be more tasteful as implications and conclusions followers come up with themselves

Sorry for the little vent, I know they’re just asks from curious fans and I should be more kind but I just came out of smt irl and I burned my patient there

[thespianinthebackcorner]

it literally happens the weekend before Valentine's Day. Look at the poses and the expressions of the promo characters. This was 100% intentional. Look at the shapes of the chocolates on the milk part of the promo art- they're small ones, some with drizzle some with nuts some just plain or fun shaped. Those are the types of things you see in boxes of chocolates, especially Valentine's Day ones.

Considering the direction the political climate is going worldwide, I'm not surprised at the implications. We almost never get art like this for Splatfests, so I wouldn't be surprised if this was a veiled statement.

Get ready to double dip chocolate fans! The "What's your favorite chocolate?" Splatfest from 2023 returns, starting 2/7 at 4pm PT to 2/9 at 4pm PT!

White chocolate came out victorious last time, but can dark chocolate or milk chocolate melt the competition this time?

[dogydayz]

I stood up upon that old cliff out in the forest and looked out at the drop below. I usually wasn't so damn... Sad... back then, or at least I never admitted that I was, but... At that point I'd hit an especially low point. I'd say it was maybe a year or two ago, not super sure at this point, keepin' track of time is a fuckin' waste nowadays anyway.

I'd been... Battlin' with lotsa thoughts, thoughts 'bout where I came from, who I was. It was... At a point where I'd accepted that I wasn't meant ta be here, but I also felt super fuckin' lost all the same. I'd accepted it, but I wasn't at peace with that shit, so it made me angry and upset and I sometimes thought I was gonna just burst into tears. Fuckin' weak, if ya ask me, but at the same time... Lettin' myself cry later on was the best feelin' I'd had in so long...

But at this point, I wasn't alright with that idea. I couldn't act like that, I'd told myself. But all the same, I felt lost and confused, and useless too. I wasn't a fuckin' hero, and I couldn't even make myself into a competent adversary. I was just some guy who fucked shit up for the others, just an asshole with no place in this realm. Even at that point I was still stuck on wantin' ta be a part of shit, yet not wantin' ta become one of those "goody goody" folks, cause that shit's not me.

So I didn't see myself goin' anywhere. No buddies, not anymore, I hadn't seen those fuckers in years by then. No purpose, nothin' ta strive for or do. Bein' "above" people didn't even appeal to me anymore.... No real reason to stick around, huh?

So that's what I thought about. Would probably make their lives easier, I thought. They'd probably like me better if I took out the damn trash, I convinced myself.

But I'll admit, heights fuckin' scare the shit outta me, so I hesitated, I hesitated for a long while.

Long enough ta hear the sound of an engine, and the sounds of rough wheels digging into the dirt and underbrush, approaching, getting louder fast, before I heard the sounds of breaking and skidding to a halt. The low rumble of the motor slowly died down, and I heard feet hit the ground.

I turned my head to see who was there, then spun and tensed up, facing the familiar person.

And, as usual, he only stared back at me with a blank sort of expression, classic look for the stupid bastard huh?

Shadow... He knew me all too well. For all I knew he hated me with a passion. For all I knew he hadn't killed me yet because that blue idiot absolutely refuses to let him. Too fuckin' merciful man, he coulda avoided so much shit had he just eliminated me...

And yet, as we stared at one another, not saying a word, his expression... It... Slowly changed. Not to rage, not to hatred, not to any sort of disgust or anger.... It was... More like some weird fuckin' mix of... Empathy and... Sadness? Not... Not sadness, somethin' like sadness though. Those same vibes.

All he did was give a soft sigh, before turning away and hoppin' back on his bike, giving me one last look... One as if to say "follow, if you want", before he drove away back into the forest on the nearby track I think he'd been travellin' on prior.

Somethin' about that... How he'd looked at me and just.... Said nothin'... It got to me a lil. That shit hurt, and I still don't really know why.

He'd had every opportunity to kill me, then and there. He coulda gotten ridda my sorry ass 'n avoided dealing with my bullshit later on. Yet, despite all that... He... Almost... Seemed like he'd wanted to say somethin' to me.

And... He also didn't try ta stop me. Something about that too just fuckin'... I dunno, it... Confused me so much that... When I looked back over the cliff's edge, I... I didn't desire that anymore. I didn't feel like it was needed. I was curious, I... Had ta figure out why the fuck he'd just... Been like that to me. Why he'd looked like he cared about me. He's wasting his damn time caring about a fuckin shitfaced loser like me, but...

I can't help but want it to be true.

Maybe I am just a selfish prick, who fuckin' knows. All I know is that I...

I desperately want to have somethin' to hold onto here, in this world that's not my own... I don't think I'm ever goin' back anyway...

And I decided then that I'd... At least attempt to make something for myself. Homeless, idiotic, and, admittedly, depressed as shit... I still, in that moment, wanted ta try.

[clairesbeauchamp]

2.08 | 3.04

[octavianacidicbreastmilk]

asoiaf fandom still stuck in the discourse tarry pits of talking about dragons as if they are nukes, utterly ignoring the wartimes implications of robb stark using his land assault vehicle, otherwise known as direwolf. and i think that says something about society

[algrimthestrong]

As he watched Mal make his way over to the bar to place their order, Aednan thought it was incredibly amusing that Mal was letting him get away with whatever teasing dart he fired at him. It was refreshing to encounter a mortal who was able to match his brand of banter rather than turn to stammering and blushing at the slightest implication of something risqué. Mal seemed to be well-liked in Roseweald and it was easy to see why. Once you got to know him properly he was a delight to be around, friendly, playful, and generous, with an eye for style and the looks of a nymph, and Aednan spotted several interested pairs of eyes turned in the florist's direction as he waited at the bar.

Welcoming Mal back with a brilliant smile and a cheery "thank you", Aednan leaned forward to reach for his goblet, curious to see what Mal had brought him. The elf lifted the glass to his nose and hummed his approval at the luscious aroma of strawberries. "It's nice and sweet," he agreed after taking a sip of the wine, his lips curling with amusement at Mal's comment. "A satisfactory choice. But I would enjoy it even more if you let me drink it from your lips."

The band had not yet begun to play and so people were left to find their own entertainments, which suited Aednan well enough for the moment. Though he was eager to take Mal to the dancefloor, he was not going to complain at the chance to have another conversation with him and admire him in the warm glow of the single candle rising from a silver holder in the middle of their table. Aednan took another sip of wine and then set down his glass, his amethyst eyes intent as they settled on the other man. "You seem to be quite popular with your people. Won't your admirers get jealous if they see you here with me?" The prince walked his fingers across the table and put his hand lightly on Mal's. "It must be incredibly frustrating for them to see you with someone to whom they can never measure up."

“Remind me to make you pay for everything next time, then.” Mal observed with a playful curl to his lips, scoffing his amusement with Aednan’s remark as they approached the tavern.

Him, courting! It was perhaps the most hilarious thing he’d heard all day.

The florist couldn’t help but be thankful for the relative anonymity that you were afforded in a place as bustling and lively as the tavern, though predictably there were a few friendly faces amidst the crowd that offered him smiles and winks and nods, and many curious eyes that wandered Aednan’s way when he cut such a striking figure amidst the humble village folk, even whilst glamoured. To his relief the prince at least had the forethought to choose a table that was somewhat tucked away, and as he gave his order Mal huffed out a chuckle. “Asking for trouble, aren’t you?” He drawled, flashing him a smile before heading for the bar, not even having to look over his shoulder to confirm that the elf was probably watching him go as he went sauntering away through the merrymakers.

A few minutes and a generous tip later (Aednan was right in that regard, apparently) Mal returned to their table with two glasses of a sweet strawberry wine that was a regular choice of his, setting one down before the prince and then sinking into his own seat, curling his fingers around the stem of the glass and lifting it to his lips, taking a long sip and sounding a contented hum. “Mm, that’s good.” He sighed, happy to have finally quenched his thirst after such a long day. “I think this’ll be to your discerning tastes, your highness. It’s not quite faerie wine, but it’ll do.”

[rmbunnie]

It's most likely just Starlin trying to get to Jason dying faster because he did not like Robin, but the whole "Jason's spiraling because of his grief for his parents" thing they were trying to spin was honestly really weird, not supported by the rest of the run INCLUDING the parts Starlin wrote, and kinda reads like an unreliable narrator situation because all of the information supporting it is given through Bruce's narration, him speculating on Jason's thoughts and actions.

The plot thread of Jason's grief for his family affecting his behavior shows up like TWO issues after Jason first becomes Robin back when Collins was writing, and gets sorted out after one conversation where Jason gets to confront Bruce about hiding his father's death from him for 6 months. After that Jason is behaving normally until they encounter three predators in a row, and each time Bruce insists that they can't do anything because of The Rules and assorted red tape/diplomatic immunity plotlines. (The sister of a woman who got dismembered actually tricked the violent-misogynist killer who dismembered her sister (and then got his serial killings dismissed through a technicality) into attacking her, and ends up killing him in self-defense, and then Jason's like "seems fair" and Bruce is like "no. it's NOT. we need to follow laws and not take justice into our own hands. which like wtf Bruce! you are a vigilante who just used a custom tank to fight an evil televangelist! who then got ripped to shreds by his followers while you watched!)

Bruce kinda just decides with Alfred that it must be grief upsetting him and not the dozens of brutally killed women and their predatory killers who the law inexplicably protected, (all written by Starlin, so retconning it for DitF like five issues later would be an odd move) but the only text claiming that's why Jason was upset is from Bruce's POV and through Alfred's dialogue. Jason himself doesn't display any signs of grief in the story itself, or even act or speak in a way that alludes to Catherine and Willis beyond looking at a picture of them and smiling fondly while he sorts through their possessions. He kinda just happens upon the box with his mother's info by chance, and is like ok i guess we're doing mom searches now. He was only going for a walk through his old neighborhood, not actively searching out info on his family. When Jason is deciding whether or not to run off without telling Bruce, he considers telling him and then goes "no, all he cares about is being Batman, he wouldn't even understand why I want to see my mom." Which, I mean, "Bruce wouldn't get it" is a REALLY odd angle if the sole motivator for spiraling, then getting benched* and running away to search out his bio-mom, was because he was mourning his dead parents, a thing he notably has in common with Bruce. That statement only really makes sense if he's thinking about a different thing that was greatly upsetting to him that Bruce brushed past, like maybe a combo of hiding the murder of his dad for half a year and allowing several cases involving sexual violence to freely develop body counts in the name of the law.

Lots of people have written about how Jason's stay in the manor might have seemed dependent on being Robin with how he was kinda just scooped up, but (if we're including Detective Comics in our characterization,) Bruce had offered to let him resign from Robin and just live with him (a little late, but still. It's worth noting Batman proper shows Jason afraid and uncomfortable at the thought of Dick taking Robin back, which lends more merit to the housing-dependent-on-Robin-misunderstanding interpretation, but canon is pick and choose anyways.) The lack of trust involved in his choice to search out his mom kinda reads like it was bred by more than that alone, and Bruce's prioritization of the law over the protection of the people it ignores is notably upsetting to him in the prior issues. tbh I really do believe the outcomes of those cases could have informed Jason's stance that Bruce's method of justice is ineffective right alongside his own murder and his experiences in Lost Days.

It would make sense for Bruce to not consider his own actions while he's thinking through things that would upset Jason, because from his point of view the things there that were bothering Jason were the criminals alone, not the way that the methods with which they were approaching their crimes continually led to the perpetrators evading actual justice. During the point in DitF where he's thinking through motivations for Jason's running away because something isn't adding up for HIM, the idea doesn't so much as cross his mind. It would also add another layer to Jason's sulkiness upon Bruce's arrival if he held the belief that Bruce is ignoring the consequences his brand of justice has on victims (and the way it's affecting him to helplessly watch it play out), starts to hope that Bruce actually can understand his thought processes/relate to him when he shows up, only to be told to his face that Bruce is prioritizing his style of justice over Jason again. With the way everything that led Jason to his bio-mom was comically circumstantial and the context of the previous issues, it's kind of the ONLY way Death in the Family makes sense to me. Tldr: I feel like the grief claimed as reasoning for Jason's actions leading up to his death is mainly speculation from Bruce and Alfred and the more textually-supported reason for his erratic behavior and lack of trust in Bruce is the lack of intervention in several sensitive cases that led them to worsen unobstructed and eventually permitted them to escalate into casualties in 2 out of 3 cases.

*Also, side note, but the idea that Jason got benched for the Filipe situation, while perfectly reasonable, is not quite spot on. The Filipe situation escalated into the fight in the junkyard where his dad is crushed by a car and Bruce is all "everything you do has consequences" which is kinda big words for a guy whose lack of action indirectly lead to a girls death earlier in the storyline, but true. Jason actally gets benched because he jumps directly into gunfire while fighting the third set of predators and Bruce starts to worry he's getting a little suicidal with it. He baits a guy into shooting at him on purpose again trying to protect mom prospect number 1 later on in DitF, so Bruce might have had a point with that one.

[khaire-traveler]

Digital Temples are really lovely, and I adore the fact that all these temples are suddenly popping up (I actually have been thinking of dedicating one to two deities as well), but the usage of the words "priests" and "priestesses" is genuinely concerning to me. It makes me feel a bit wary.

Why, might you ask, would that even be a problem? Let me explain.

These words carry a lot of power with them. With these words comes the implication of religious authority. If I went around saying that I was a Priest of Hermes himself, it asserts a sense of power and authority in a religious space. There are a lot of people who would love to use that power negatively; I have been directly impacted by this many times over. I am always wary of people who use this title as a result of what I've seen and experienced.

Those titles also carry the implication of having an established religious knowledge that others do not. It's not just a title used to identify people who are in charge of a Temple; it is a title that explicitly identifies someone as a researched, trustworthy, religious figure who is extremely experienced. This ties into how these words carry power. A lot of people I've seen stake claim to this title have also claimed to speak for the gods directly. Either that, or it is often assumed of them, and that bothers me a lot. I have yet to meet someone who genuinely speaks for the gods in every situation.

On the inverse, I'm sure some who use these titles mean it in a harmless and genuine way (I've met one before), and that's fine, but if you are one of such people, realize that these words seriously do carry immense implications along with them, and do not fall into the trap of moral superiority or dictating rules in a religion you do not own. The most genuine people I've met who identify with these titles are the ones who don't advertise them publicly. I'm not saying the use of these titles are wrong, but I am saying that people seem to be inclined to abuse them. Horrifically abuse them.

Instead, I suggest using a title such as "Cleric". I've seen another temple do this, and personally, I feel it is less intimidating and claims less power of authority. Or maybe not using a title at all. Why use one if you don't need it? Hell, you could call yourself literally anything else.

So, please, those who run digital Temples, I ask you to be aware of the power the words "priest" and "priestess" have before applying them to yourselves and ask yourselves why it is that you're choosing to identify with these titles in the first place.

[blasphemousclaw]

I’ve been seeing a lot of people argue that Radahn would never agree to Miquella’s plans because he loves the Golden Order and would never want to replace it… but I think there are some nuances about the current state of the Golden Order that call that assumption into question?

The first thing to know about Radahn is that he’s defined by his idealization of Godfrey and his reign as Elden Lord. His lion armor is an explicit tribute to him, and he tries to emulate the “Lord of the Battlefield’s” martial prowess and heroic, honorable nature. When looking at the iconography associated with Radahn, it is always directly tied to Godfrey alone.

But Godfrey isn’t here anymore, he was banished… and the current state of the Golden Order is now extremely culturally different than it had been under his rule. The crucible and those associated with it gradually became less and less accepted, and more and more “disdained as an impurity as civilization advanced.” Godfrey’s crucible knights used to be heroes, and it’s even implied that they were the very face of the colosseums’ ritual combat… the Ritual Sword Talisman is “patterned after swords used in ritual combat held to honor the Erdtree,” and it’s the exact same design as Crucible Knight Ordovis’s sword:

so there’s this connection between the colosseums under Godfrey’s reign and the crucible.

But, in the present day, both the crucible knights and the colosseums have fallen by the wayside: “In time, the strength shown by these knights, and even their appearance, was seen as chaotic and deserving of scorn,” and regarding ritual combat, “the practice had died out by the age of King Consort Radagon.”

We do in fact see these hallmarks of Godfrey’s reign in association with Radahn as well — from Freyja’s backstory, we know that Radahn first met her by watching her fight as a gladiator at the colosseum (probably the one in Caelid!). And there’s a boss fight at Redmane castle with a Crucible Knight and a (red-haired!) Leonine Misbegotten! It’s also worth nothing that Godfrey, his crucible knights, and Consort Radahn all share the same earth-stomp move! Another interesting point is that Godfrey is associated with lions (Beast-Regent Serosh), and of course Radahn wears lion armor inspired by this, but there is also a Lion Guardian enemy at Redmane castle that has horns:

the old crucible society of the Hornsent revered the horned lion above all…

and Radahn, the “Lord of the Battlefield’s lion,” gains horns after being resurrected in Mohg’s body… literally becoming a horned lion!

I think it means something that Radahn is associated again and again with these symbols of the OLD Golden Order and the crucible… the time when Godfrey ruled, the crucible still flourished, and glorious combat reigned supreme. Yes, Radahn is absolutely defined by nostalgia and trying to recapture the glory of an old age… but I think this is actually a reason for him to OPPOSE the current Order, because now all the things he loved and admired about it are GONE! Indeed, there’s no evidence that Radahn made any attempt to preserve the current Order during the Shattering, and Morgott considers him to be a “willful traitor” with the rest of his siblings!

Does this mean that I think Radahn planned to be where he is with Miquella at the end of the dlc? Not necessarily, and I personally am really skeptical that where he ended up was entirely of his own choosing… I just think that the logic of assuming Radahn would want to preserve the Order in its current state is flawed, because the differences between Godfrey’s reign and Radagon’s reign are quite significant!