#to show us that the system is the cause of all this pain and suffering

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Narkina 5

Okay. I have a lot to say about Narkina 5 and the prison.

So first thing first. Back to ep7 were Cassian has been very unfairly assaulted by a sandtrooper, then violently assaulted by a droid, then arrested and "put on trial" where really, no jury, not lawyer, not even a moment to justify himself or try to clear the misunderstanding. Only a judge and executioner. The whole scene was so unfair and violent; I hated the way the sandtrooper made it sound like Cassian was being aggressive and angry when really Cassian was keeping his calm and trying to explain with a calm tone that he was just a tourist.

This scene was important, because it only get worse after that. That arrest scene was a glimpse of how far police brutality can go. It was made clear in a previous episode that Cassian hates to be grabbed by the arm or touch without consent, and episode 8 really explained why. The sandtroopers then the prison guards were all firmly grabbing, pushing, and being physically violent toward Cassian and the other prisoners (lot of which were men of colour, like. At least ⅔ of them. And almost all the guards are white. Didn't go unnoticed.)

--

The fact that we as viewers don't know shit about what's going on, the same way Cassian doesn't know, that was a smart thing to do. It really adds to the chock of the brutality unfolding as each minute goes by.

The whole "take your shoes off" thing was unsettling; first it's dehumanising to force them to be barefoot, and it's worse to see the guards walk with these thick boots, like you know something bad is a out to happen and you dread what it will be (did you notice that the first shot of the guards is like. Down to up so the firsh thing you see are the boots? Very smart)

I assume the "roaster" is like. A very powerful electric device. Which would explain the paralysis/ distortion of their bodies + why they say it "roasts" you. It made me think of the electric chair, and not to say there are a lot of parallels with US prisons, but there are a lot of parallels with US prisons.

--

Now here comes the second part: forced labor.

I knew i would write a post about it, and I thought "I could say it's pushed to the extreme but no. It's just capitalism. We already reached that extreme."

12h shifts, everyday, nonstop. Setting it up as a "game", a "competition" where you get an award if you are the most productive of them all, and a punishment if you fall "last" on the productivity podium. Creating an environment that puts you under so much pressure, so much stress to win the game, to be the best, to always push your limits; an environment where everything is hostile enough to keep you alert at all time, where things are just comfortable enough that it feels wrong to complain compared to what you could have had, where fellow prisoners/ workers become your enemy instead of the people who put you in the system in the first place.

--

Because the guards are not armed - except for their electric sticks and their little remote. One push of a button and everyone is distorted and crying in pain. No need for more when you hold an entire prison at your mercy, thanks to a simple button.

The white decoration is just. It's bland. It's soulless. It's cold and honestly hostile. You don't feel safe or welcomed. All you have is the orange stripe that tells you you're a prisoner, the black outfits that lurk all around, keeping an eye on you, and the red dots on the floor. And the red dots mean pain.

The environment is hostile enough to keep you alert and unsafe, but comfortable enough for you not to complain: hey, the food is tasteless and liquid and you eat it through a tube; but at least it's unlimited and you have food. Hey, your box is open and small and you have to pee in public and you have no intimacy; but at least you have a bed of your own and a mattress and it's cleaned everyday. They even allow you to have a little light for the night. Hey, your shower is also public and you are completely naked round everyone else and it's just warm fog spread over you; but at least the fog is warm and you can feel somehow cleaner than before. It's better than nothing at all.

--

This is a system in which people are purposefully put in enough comfort to feel like it's not worth fighting to leave it. The Devil you know and all that. And it's a very dehumanising system. You have no intimacy, you have no hobby, you have nothing for yourself, nothing but a box and a table to work at. Your only purpose is to stay on top of the list, and to aim for the win. And after a while, winning becomes the only thing that matters.

I mean. A man commits suicide and the only thing everyone around say is "it going to stinks all night" - "he really had to do it here? If you do it here, I don't regret you" and "we're going to lose our spot on the list! We don't care how he felt, we're going to lose!"

It's terrifying to see and hear as an outsider of the system, but when you are in. What do you think of it when you are in? What do you do with what you are given? Cassian's lack of reaction says it all: you can't do anything. You can try to fight your way out, and die. You can give up, and die. You can try to hold on and remain on top and pray you finally get the award - until you die.

You have no choice, you can't have any, when the only options are to die or to survive. None of them are fair, the way they are presented to you make them unfair and horrible. Either way you will suffer, either way you will lose. Victory is temporary, victory is faint and minimal.

At the end of the day, the only winners at the people in black outfits holding the remote.

And I think this idea, this idea of illusion of choice, of picking the solution that keeps you alive rather than the solution that is morally right or ethical or righteous, it's really the core of Andor and later Rogue One. Sometimes good people are thrown in a system they have nothing to do in, it's unfair, it's brutal, unjustified, wrong, horribly wrong. And when you are outside of the system, it's easy to say it. It's easy to point it out and call these people heartless for ignoring the death of a person, for competing so hard, for focusing only on their well-being and for trying to survive using means that are wrong or violent. But this episode really brings in a new perspective: you see why these people act the way they do. You see them being brutalised, and hurts and constantly in danger, and stripped away from their belongings and from their identity and from who they are as individuals. You see the guards being violents, you see the psychological and physical abuse, and you see that there is no ethical choice. It's just surviving or not.

[tanglepelt]

Dp x dc idea 40

Quick summary: Danny finds Ellie in the basement strapped to a table. They book it after destroying portal. Fentons think Danny’s possessed and chase. They capture Ellie again with GIW. Danny pretends to be an ambassador to the infinite realm. They don’t need to know he’s the king. Threatens war. Batfam are near. They intervene.

The fentons find out about Ellie. The whole halfa thing not the clone thing. They decide obviously a ghost possessed a dead child and was using their body. That’s why she could transform back and forth.

Que the metal table and straps.

Danny was very concerned when Ellie didn’t show up to there monthly meet up. He tried to text her and call her to no response. Being the good older brother he is he went hunting.

Not able to find her, Danny is ready to beg frostbite for the infamap. He promised not to take it again. But no one said anything about begging.

When he goes to the basement he sees ellie. Thankfully before and vivisection or cutting began. She was just strapped down with a machine taking blood.

Que him freeing her. Destroying the record they had. Injecting her with a ecto-dejecto to get ectoplasma in her system to kick up the healing factor. He breaks the portal.

None of his rouges were out. They had a monthly agreement. No one was to interfere with his Ellie day. The box ghost tried it once. He had to deal with a feral Ellie. The rule is in place for there safety.

He knows he’ll be hearing the complaints for the rest of his afterlife. The fact jack and Maddie strapped what looks like a human down. Who knows what they’d do to his rouges. Those ones actively cause problems.

Danny and Ellie have a lovely road trip. Constantly running. Watching that back. Barley sleeping. One for the scrap book.

The end goal is to get to Gotham. Jazz goes to Gotham u. She’d hide them. She’d meet them if they had there phones. They got left behind in the panic. Getting to Jazz would be safe for them. She has a Fenton creep stick after all.

Upon getting to Gotham. They realize they both have no idea where the university is. So no idea how to get to jazz.

It’s late when they showed up. Like the middle of the night late. So they can’t even ask. Not to mention pay phones don’t really exist anymore. They didn’t have quarters regardless.

That’s when the Giw show up surrounding them. Jack and Maddie show up from nowhere grabbing Danny from behind. Yelling that he’s just possessed. He wouldn’t be helping the ghost girl if he wasn’t. He wouldn’t of destroyed there life’s work.

Danny. Thinking fast starts yelling at them asking if they really want a war. That he’s seen what they can do. It won’t even be a battle. They’d just close off access to the afterlifes. You have to travel through the realms to get to them. Leaving the dimension to suffer. No relief of death. Just pain and suffering.

Screaming how that she was the second in line for the throne. The princess.

Ellie just stares at him the whole time. Like wtf. She’s fought off a lot of the GIW agents. But they have blood bosoms that force her down.

Danny couldn’t get free from jack and Maddie. Going ghost would just force him to the ground as well.

Starts yelling how he hasn’t sided with his parents from the beginning. That he had tried to play ambassador. Freeing those taken. Making sure the realm didn’t fight back.

He lies about how he totally stopped the master of time itself from destroying the timeline. That pandora has not attacked because of him same as the mighty frostbite of the far frozen.

Basically he’s just spouting nonsense. Then threatens to summon frostbite. Frostbite taught him how after an incident where he very much hurt himself.

Just then people with grappling hooks show up. They end up detaining the GIW and jack and Maddie. Which is a good thing.

The bad thing was the bat furry wanted to ask questions.

Good thing the furries got rid of the blood blossoms.

Danny just gets through them. (They let him go to Ellie). The fight left Ellie injured. The blood blossoms had made the injured way word.

We’ll look like he was summoning frostbite.

Not to fight but because Ellie was hurt. The bat people barley reacted to the yeti appearing from a glowing green portal. But they did tense and take up new stances.

It’s quickly seen that frostbite is in fact a medic. Not a mighty warrior (from what they can tell).

They actually think Danny was actually the voice for the infinite realm. That was enough to get him dragged to space.

Who knows how’d they react if they knew he was the king. But hey the GIW got disbanded.

Now has a fic started. Feel free to steal this idea still!!!

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[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match. 

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day. 

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again. 

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you. 

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you. 

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.” 

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions. 

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.” 

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks. 

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.” 

“Where is home for you?” 

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.” 

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked. 

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you  watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does. 

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-” 

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds. 

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could. 

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest. 

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again. 

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys. 

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system. 

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something. 

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life. 

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not. 

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her. 

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it. 

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you. 

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now. 

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.” 

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?” 

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss. 

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.” 

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it. 

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken. 

“Go to hell,” You spit out. 

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.” 

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.” 

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

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[koopageneral]

INANIMATE INSANITY SEASON 2 EPISODE 15 SPOILERS. PLEAASE GO WATCH IT

Omgaaa I need to EXPLODE cuz of Taco’s Tirade. Gonna go on a rant analysing it prty much line-by-line so STRAP IN!! (Shout out to everyone who worked on this masterpiece omfg)

It starts off with what might be considered ‘normal’ Taco. Her making fun of the contestants. There is a little bit of hinting at her sympathy towards the contestants, although it’s incredibly shrouded in her mastermind facade. Calling them ‘pathetic’ and comparing them to blindly obedient dogs with ‘how they run to fetch their sticks.’

We get a little bit more with ‘Sure, call me polemic, unsympathetic.’ It shows how shes aware that she’s a problem, although at this point in the song it’s unclear to the audience whether she’s saying it in a way of ‘yeah call me it cuz it’s true, I don’t care.’ Or if it’s ‘call me these things, yeah, but I’m more than that.’

‘Look at me and all you see is the debris of some defective outcast.’ Feels like it’s getting into the meat of the song, and the episode as a whole, of how Taco has realized how she’s pushed everyone away for the sake of the game. The fact she has her arms tucked away during it gives another interesting interpretation, of it actually talking about before her big reveal, and how she was treated differently because she was, in her words, ‘defective.’

‘A frenetic, antithetic (if poetic) iconoclast.’ Frenetic means wild and energetic, probably, again, referring to her season 1 persona. Antithetic means opposite of something, and iconoclast means someone who attacks cherished institutions. This gets into her want to tear this entire show to the ground for the suffering it’s caused everyone.

‘I wont live in the past. I almost won this game once, you know.’ I’m just gonna parrot what @lemonxlimee said cuz they put it pretty succinctly with two words. Taco. Girl.

Then we get to the lines that got me started on this tirade (Pun intended.) ‘History is rearranged just to credit those who win the glory. So reality has changed in the edit when they spin the story.’ AUGH. Her fucking staring down at the hotel made of the money she spent SO HARD and lost SO MUCH to try and get. I. I want to scream about this. I don’t know how to put my thoughts on this line into fucking words.

‘And we choose to feel this pain.’ Going off the last line, Taco, out of almost anyone in the cast, knows how much you have to go through just to get a chance to win, which goes right into the next line.

‘We lose more than we gain.’ She lost Pickle. You might say that she didn’t actually care, but I’m not sure if I believe that. I feel like she might not have at first, and maybe even never when they actually were playing together. But you can’t convince me she doesn’t hate herself for using him on a plan that resulted in nothing. She also lost Mic, and it’s incredibly clear how much that affected her. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and showed her the flaws in this system.

‘I will break this cycle of mistakes unlike all of these snakes whom I call to condemn.’ She is fucking DETERMINED to make everyone see what they’ve sacrificed. She speaks with a level of contempt towards them, yes, but I feel like it’s more her projecting her feelings about the contest onto the contestants.

Then we’ve got MePad being best therapy boy. ‘You are incapable of starting over.’ She wants to be better. But she doesn’t feel worthy.

And then MePad’s slightly naive optimism with ‘I do not know who you lost, but is it not possible to get them back?’ He’s programmed to see the best in everyone. He wants things to work out. He doesn’t see how hard it might be to just make things better after a relationship exclusively built on lies.

This naivete is immediately contrasted by Taco’s all-encompassing pessimism. ‘Clear the slate, start again, do you hear how preposterous that sounds? How do you not comprehend that for someone with my monstrous background, the whole slate has fallen apart.’ To Taco, the bridges between her and Mic or Pickle are nothing but smoldering piles of rubble after all the pain she’s put them through.

This contrast is even more stark with the duet of ‘It’s too late’ and ‘It’s not too late.’ I don’t even know what to say about that, it’s pretty black and white.

For the duet, gonna go one character at a time for simplicity. Starting with Taco.

We see taco’s turmoiled feelings on whether she’s to blame, with ‘It’s not I, it’s they who deigned to play.’ Even after all of this internal conflict and deep personal realizations, there’s still a part of her that wants to cast the blame of the pain she’s caused onto the ones she’s hurt.

Another deflection she throws out is, honestly, probably more fair, if still not great. ‘This game, so cruel and inhumane, base and uncouth.’ This really gets into her main philosophy for the episode. She’s afraid to take responsibility, and pins the blame on the show for pitting everyone against one another. I want to make it clear, her point is incredibly valid. We see during THIS EPISODE how much it turns people against eachother. The challenge is entirely built around making the contestants spill their true feelings about each other, and using that to fuel drama. Suitcase literally has to choose between two people she cares about over who she’s bringing into the finals, pitting Baseball and Knife against eachother. While the show is ‘cruel and inhumane’, I don’t think that should just be a het out of jail free card for Taco. Yes, she did it because she felt there was no other choice to win, but she still did horrible things. She manipulated 2 people into actually believing she cared.

‘They’re too afraid to bear the bed they made, can’t bring themselves to face the awful truth.’ This is pretty much just her saying that the other contestants are too blind to see how much pain they’ve gone through to get to where they are.

NOW. Baby boy therapist, MePad.

‘You’re no menace, Taco, how did they hurt you?’ He agrees with Taco on the grounds of how much pain the contestants go through, but he’s just a little more concerned about the tact needed to show them. He knows that Taco wants to change, but she’s afraid to. He knows how much she wants to apologize to the people she’s hurt. He feels that there has to be something external she’s dealing with to have this level of spite in her, even if there isn’t, and all of her hate is towards herself.

‘Please think this through’ is pretty self explanatory. As I said, he agrees with Taco about her basic ideals, but feels like there are better ways to deal with the issue.

‘Feeling double crossed is part of dealing with the loss, yes, but the healing is a process, that’s the truth.’ He wants to see Taco get better, and he’s trying to get through to her about the fact that her feelings are entirely valid, but she has to, at some point, let go.

I also feel like the sound mixing is very purposeful. Taco’s voice rings through clearly, able to be heard without much difficulty. MePad’s vocals are softer, and a little quieter and harder to make out. Taco is so in her own head about the pain she’s gone through, she refuses to listen to any outside voice.

Then we get to Taco trying her best to cover up her emotions again and put on her mastermind persona with ‘I’m turning up the heat to sauté, I’ve some beef to get grilled. But I guarantee that today all the beans that get spilled won’t be mine.’ I love how this foreshadows the challenge, but doesn’t make it obvious.

We see one last crack in her facade in the penultimate ‘I’m fine.’ Again, the ‘mistake’ in this line feels incredibly purposeful. It’s incredibly pitchy and bad, to an almost ear-splitting level. Taco knows she isn’t actually okay at ALL, and has trouble telling such a blatant lie.

And then the last line, ‘now it’s time’, is her fully donning the mask once again, ready to expose the show for what it is.

ANYWAY. Uh. Thanks for reading all this bs. I fucking love this song so much, and I think Taco’s motivation in this episode is fascinating. Any comments or constructive criticism of my analysis is MORE than appreciated, hope you all have a wonderful day/night/whenever.

[shiftinglea]

Clarifications about Death and Taking Your Own Life

My last post about death (part 2) raised many questions about suicide and why it's different and "wrong" compared to other causes of death, such as being brutally killed. In this post, I want to address those questions.

1. If you get brutally killed, is it chosen by our souls?

Yes. As I mentioned, when and how you die is decided by you on a soul level. Even if a person dies in a horrible way at the hands of others, it was chosen by that person's soul. I understand why this is hard to comprehend and accept. When I see news about a child being brutally killed by their parents, my first reaction is pain, horror, sadness, and anger. It's natural. But let's return to the question: why would someone choose (on a soul level) to die like that?

The answer is a matter of perspective. From our human perspective, this death is unfathomable. But from the soul's perspective, it makes sense. Everything in our life is created by us, either consciously, subconsciously, or on a soul level. As I mentioned in my first post, some traumatic situations that we would never consciously choose to manifest are indeed chosen by our souls to be experienced. Death is also created by your soul because it serves the agenda of that soul. What is the agenda of the soul of a child brutally murdered by their parents? Why did their soul choose to die like that?

I can't provide a definitive answer since I don't know the agendas of each specific soul. But when I asked my soul and God to help me understand why such deaths are chosen by souls, I received this answer:

When a child (or anyone) dies in such a way, the agenda of that soul could be:

- A selfless agenda to serve others. In this case, it would be to show other people how our society is flawed and make them face the problems of our world. It's a powerful message and agenda that helps others awaken. When we see news about an innocent child being brutally murdered, we experience pain. This pain shows that this is not who we are. We are beings of love. It also makes you wonder why our society creates "monsters" who kill their own children or anyone. It's about taking responsibility for our creations and realizing that all these criminals are byproducts of the current system that the majority created. Do you think that if we lived in a peaceful society where everyone feels safe, loved, equal, and has their needs met, anyone would desire to hurt others? No, because we are all One. We are individuations of God. When we hurt others, we hurt ourselves. When we see people being killed, mutilated, or tortured, the purpose behind it is to show that the way we do things on this planet doesn't work. Society needs to change. All the people who die in such horrible ways, their souls chose to show us that. The agenda is to help us wake up through pain.

- Another agenda souls might have when going through traumatic events and horrible deaths is to experience forgiveness, empathy, compassion, and resilience. Experiencing trauma helps a soul better understand the suffering of others. It fosters empathy. Such deep compassion can be essential for a soul's growth and its ability to help others. When a soul wants to experience forgiveness, it chooses life events (and even death) that create a context for such forgiveness. How can you forgive when there is nothing and no one to forgive? A soul would create a contract with another soul to experience forgiveness by being hurt in the physical realm. If a soul chooses to experience its own power and limitlessness, it may create very challenging and traumatic events to see that even the most horrible pain and situations don't destroy it. Even dying brutally, you realize it didn't destroy you. You keep on living, realizing that your body is fragile, but the Real You never dies and never suffers.

Also, check this video to understand this point better.

I want to add that when people die in such horrible ways, they experience such encompassing love in the spiritual realm that it helps them heal. Eventually, such souls remember why they chose to die like that and see perfection in everything, especially their death, because it served their agenda.

Some people say that thinking others chose to go through such suffering is blaming the victims. But I don't see it that way. I'm not blaming them; I honor them. I see beyond the simple fact of being brutally killed. I see the agenda behind their choice to die like that. I admire such souls for choosing such life paths. And I feel happy for them because I know they are now in a place of pure love and light. They are so cared for and taken care of. They are Home with God.

2. Another question I want to answer: isn’t being murdered and killed considered dying before your life is completed?

No. Your physical life completion isn’t defined by your biological clock and age. It’s defined by whether you have accomplished everything you wanted to on a soul level. This decision is made by your soul, not your mind. Dying very early on (e.g., in childhood) or being killed by someone is perfectly timed by your soul. Even if it seems that this person died too early and without accomplishing much, it’s only our limited human perspective. Their soul accomplished everything it wanted and it was time to move on to the spiritual realm.

3. Perhaps the most asked question: isn’t suicide also chosen by the soul? Why is it different and worse than being killed?

First of all, it's not "worse" or "better." These are human terms. In this case, it's about choosing paths that suit your agenda and goals and those that don't. As I mentioned in the original post, death must meet two conditions to be classified as suicide:

- You must be aware of what you are doing, making a conscious decision to die.

- You must choose to die to escape life rather than complete it.

When people kill themselves, they mostly do it in hopes of escaping their lives. It's not wrong or bad; it's just counterproductive. You don't escape anything. It's merely a temporary escape into the spiritual realm, leading to a rebirth where the same challenges reemerge. It doesn't happen instantly.

When a person kills themselves, they enter the spiritual realm where they heal from all the pain and suffering they went through. They spend as long as they need there. They remember who they truly are (God) and why they chose to experience such challenges. They remember their agenda. Nobody forces them to go through such challenges; it's always free will. If a soul decides it hasn't accomplished its agenda, it returns to the physical realm (when ready) to face the same challenges again.

Suicide is never chosen by the soul. It's a decision made by your human self in hopes of escaping life. It's an untimely death because they haven't accomplished what they wanted. They escaped it.

Some people ask, what if the soul realizes it made a mistake and doesn't want to go through the same challenges? Our human minds can make mistakes, but our souls are pure essence of God. Do you think God makes mistakes? Your soul always knows what it's doing. It never chooses challenges it thinks are impossible for you to handle. If you're facing challenges, it means you're capable of dealing with them. You've placed such situations (unconsciously) to find a gift in them. Manifesting and using the LOA is one way to deal with difficult situations. Seeing deeper meaning behind every challenge is another. But killing yourself means deciding you can't deal with the situation and there's no other way. But there are always ways. You are a powerful creator and you can deal with anything. Nothing can destroy you. You will have as many reincarnations as needed to accept your limitlessness, power, and immortality.

I'm having these conversations with you to help expand your mind. To elevate your thinking from a human perspective to a soul perspective. The human perspective is limiting. But when you look at your life from a soul perspective, you see perfection in everything, especially in traumatic experiences. You are not human; you are having a human experience.

I hope this post helped you to understand better such complex topics as death and suicide. If you have more questions, I’m always open to them 🙏

[spotsandsocks]

It’s is an arrogance to not vote. To say I don’t like either so I won’t vote at all. It’s my protest. I want a perfect system so I’ll show them. It won’t make a difference anyway. All politicians are bad.

It is arrogant to not admit one side wants to cause pain and suffering to so so many and keep dividing us and hurting people who can’t afford not to vote.

They will vote so you have to. They won’t stay away because their hate is stronger than your indifference or your determined pride to be morally pure.

When no choice is perfect you make the least bad one the one that causes less harm.

But you still have to make the choice, you have to vote. For pity’s sake look around and see what’s happening. Do the little you can to try and make tomorrow a little brighter a little safer for the people you say you want to support

There’s no such thing as no vote anyway all you did was allow the other side to win another point.

The absence of a vote is a vote for the other team

[animezin-ph]

Wind Breaker Analysis: People's Judgement

TRIGGER WARNING

This post may contain triggering words. Please read with caution. If you are feeling uneasy, you may choose to stop reading this post.

SPOILER ALERT

This post may include some minor spoilers.

"Did I assume?..."

"...That nobody would ever look at me like that?"

For the first time in his life, Sakura Haruka has experienced the feeling of acceptance and warmth.

2 Types of Judgement

Sometimes, we never realize that we end up judging people. No, not the kind of "being mean" or extreme negative criticism kind of judgement like how Sakura was judged in his old hometown, but the kind of judgement where we judge that other people won't accept us.

Root Cause

What's the root cause of the second type of judgement?

Trauma. Pain. Suffering.

When we come from a place of hurt, we develop and manifest a form of anger, and sometimes fear, towards other people. Thus, judging them.

Anger

Sakura showed anger. Lots of it.

The anger is, in a way, suppressed hurt from the fact that people shun us and reject us to an extreme.

We get angry at these people which can lead us to feel anger towards new people as well, because we end up assuming that nobody would treat us right, and that everyone is the same.

We have all the right to feel anger, because we were wronged.

Fear

For fear, Sakura showed less of it and more on anger. But his fears manifested in many other ways.

The fear also stems from the past trauma.

We end up fearing "the unknown" in people. Our mind thinks of the worst-case scenarios with these people and connects it to our past trauma.

"Oh no, everything is going to repeat. These new people will hate me as well."

"Oh no, doing things for others never end well"

These new people, including the past people, will be perceived as threats. Guilty until proven innocent.

Then, it's final, we close ourselves off.

How to feel love again

There's only one way to feel love again:

it's to open up to people who do show genuine love.

This is obviously not as easy as it sounds. You WILL be on guard, and that's okay.

But there will be people, who will one day come into your life, and show you that they care about you. They will give you patience and kindness. This will be a warm feeling you've never felt before. Just like Sakura with the people in the new town and in Furin High.

Of course, people who have been hurt and traumatized in the past will be hard up in opening themselves up again, and that's alright. Because the people who will love you will understand this.

They will understand you.

All you have to do is give them a chance.

If you or you know someone who is struggling with trauma or any other mental health issues, it is important to seek help from friends, family, professionals, or any emotional support system. Remember, you are not alone and there is always help available.

I'd Love to hear your thoughts! If you feel like you've related to this post or if you've noticed other mental health themes in the anime, drop a comment below or reblog and let's discuss!

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to leave a follow for more valuable insights and analyses on your favorite anime!

- Fuegio from Animezin PH

[alshamswelnahr]

What really gets me is that the Kizuki, despite being super strong and having gone through injustice because of society or personal trauma, still choose to keep the cycle of violence going. They’ve felt weakness, but instead of using their power to help others or show mercy, they just want more power and keep the brutality alive.

Take the Shabana siblings, for example—they don't try to tear down the system that broke them. Instead, they work their way to the top of it. Douma had a rough childhood, but instead of destroying the group that caused his suffering, he just keeps the cycle going.

Akaza, who knows how society can fail the vulnerable —like with his sick dad— doesn’t use his strength to protect the weak. He just chases after power for power’s sake. Kaigaku, who’s also been through hardships, doesn’t help the weak—he’s just out for his own power and status. And Rui, who desperately wants a loving family and real connections, ends up hurting and abusing the demons he forces to play house with him. The same goes for Kyogai, Nakime, and Ubume.

I think this all ties back to the environment and system that Muzan created. It’s a place where the strong crush the weak, and violence is everywhere. This corrupt system traps them into becoming the worst versions of themselves, constantly fighting for power and stepping on others to get ahead. It’s the complete opposite of the Demon Slayer Corps, where members rise in ranks by saving and protecting others and getting better at what they do.

There’s something just inherently sad and heartbreaking about knowing pain and then wanting others to suffer through it too.

[itsclydebitches]

Sometimes the negativity attracting Grimm thing makes me think of questions like, how did slavery exist for so long? It wasn't abolished until the great war and we are told how Mistral and Mantle both used it a lot.

Like in a world where monsters literally seek out negativity to kill people and this causes mass damage and such..

How the heck could any version of the slave trade, a brutal system built on pain, suffering and humiliation exist in remnant? Let alone having been a widespread system for 2 successful kingdoms?

This. The longer the show has gone on the less that part of the worldbuilding makes sense. It's a cool idea, but as always RWBY doesn't put in the work to keep it cohesive.

I vaguely remember thinking about this years ago when I was first watching the show. Not in relation to slavery/the general oppression of the faunus, but wondering where the line was between "Average amount of negative emotion that doesn't attract grimm and therefore allows a society to function" and "Amount that tips the scale and results in a coordinated attack." I can distinctly recall first watching the attack on Beacon and going, "Oh, so having a whole stadium of people reacting to a girl being killed - not to mention the reveal that she's secretly an android - is enough to attract most of the grimm in the surrounding area. That makes sense. Plus, this was all orchestrated by Cinder who knew that would happen. Great villain plan!" (This was back in the day when RWBY had a lot more going for it.) Even so, that kind of excessive negativity obviously exists in a kingdom where slavery exists, yet grimm aren't factored into issues like the faunus revolution, or even on a smaller scale like Cinder's abuse. There's no acknowledgement of excessive attacks as a result, or why people would continue such industries when it poses such a threat to everyone in the area. I mean, people frequently do things that are dangerous/reckless/stupid for a number of reasons (money being one of them...), but the show still needs to grapple with that, even if it's only in an offhand way. Where are the self-serving "revolutionaries" that oppose faunus enslavement not because they care for them, but because they fear the grimm their torture might bring? Where are the people who look to the lack of grimm in their well-to-do areas - a result of Atlas' defenses and the richer homes being further from the walls - and use it as "proof" that the faunus actually love working in the mines? Clearly if they didn't we would have been overrun by grimm by now!

By working with your worldbuilding rather than just dropping it until you need an excuse for a non-villain fight, RWBY could actually add a lot of realism and nuance here.

[nynyhaha]

Trouble Trio and what they sacrifice for their abilities

To make your hatsu stronger, you need conditions, nothing ever comes for free. In the chimera ant arc seeing the Spiders fight Zazan was like a breath of fresh air. AND it showed us their nen abilities! I think that the conditions they chose might say sometimes about their personalities.

Phinks

His ability is quite simple but it shows amazing potential. With each turn of his arm,his punch power increases so with enough time he should be able to produce a bigger impact that’s Uvo’s Big Bang!

His limits are time he has before someone attacks him and energy he has to put into it. He’s among the strongest Spiders physically, but he too can only do so many arm rotations before he gets tired.

It could actually be compared to simple physics where one kind of energy is transformed into another. Still,if you wanna do something really big you gotta have the patience for it and in an intense battle every second is precious,so I can see how the need for time could be a problem.

Phinks has a reasonable condition that doesn’t cost him too much but works very well. Very clear and straightforward. Good choice!

Feitan

actually needs to get hurt. It’s also stated that his ability is activated by rage, so it’s also necessary that he’s pissed.

It’s interesting that he’s willing to get hit just for the satisfaction of watching the opponent receive the pain back tenfold and as heat!(I don’t actually know the proportions,it’s some sort of transmuter procedure where damage equals an amount of aura)

Sure,in a serious fight against a strong enemy he’s likely to get hit at least once,but would you not prefer to be able to cause pain without feeling it? I’m talking about scenarios where taking damage in order to use pain packer is more beneficial than staying unharmed and fighting without it.

Using pain strategically is typically Feitan, meanwhile I still believe that he hates it.

Shalnark

Let’s start off with the fact that he too feels pain because of his hatsu, but after it rather than before. It’s as inevitable as in Feitan’s case which I think is very funny.

Their abilities are polar opposites : Feitan gets hit first and then can enjoy the show and lay back as he watches all the destruction. Sure, his arm won’t heal because of that, but at least he lot the anger out of his system.

Shalnark will suffer from muscle pain for days after, and he wasn’t even there to see it. His ability is as impersonal as it gets.

For him it’s about control.

He’s a manipulator and uses people like dolls. He makes them loose their free will and turn into machines. He knows how horrifying loss of agency can look. But he’s willing to do that to himself! Id even say his ability is even more ironic than Feitan’s, because he’s subjected exactly to the thing his victims are. Ofc it’s willingly but when he’s in autopilot mode, he’s his own tool.

He says that he doesn’t like his ability and uses it during emergencies. We don’t even know how strong it makes him, but it might enhance his strength up to Uvo-level.

Shalnark is a computer genius and a technology nerd, so for him the manipulation is robotic rather than emotional. He takes people and makes them to puppets,as if they’re not alive. But he himself thinks of his role in the Spider as a cog in the machine and there’s something sad and endearing about it.

He’d prefer death over working for someone he doesn’t like and being their tool,but he’s fine with being that for the Spider and Chrollo.

Makes me think how he rejected his humanity and how he and Chrollo both instrumentalised their existence. Will Chrollo ever come to realise that it’s wrong?

[covid-safer-hotties]

Feeling Sick More Often? It Could Be “Long COVID” - Published Sept 3, 2024

While many of us would simply like to move on from all things “COVID,” unfortunately, not all can. In fact, a growing number of people – even millions – are still battling lingering symptoms. Often known as “long COVID” or Post-Acute Sequelae of SARS-CoV-2 Infection (PASC), these symptoms range wide and far.

But how do you know?

How do you know if your health condition is a cold, flu, or lasting effects from COVID-19 infection? If you’re not sure how to get to the bottom of it, here’s how…

Brain Fog You’ve probably heard of brain fog, but what does it really mean?

Basically, brain fog is all about mental difficulty. This can show up in a variety of ways, everything from confusion to concentration problems, memory lapses, and a general feeling of ‘dullness.’

But again, these symptoms can often be mistaken for other things. If you’re not sure if it’s from COVID, consider the timing. Long COVID typically happens just weeks after you’re infected. Not only that, but it can easily last for many months or longer.

If you notice other symptoms like dizziness, general fatigue, and headaches – speak to your doctor about long COVID.

RELATED: Tired Of Brain Fog? Here’s How To Clear Your Mind

Gastrointestinal Symptoms Nobody likes feeling bloated or sick to the stomach, but how do you know which is which? While it’s easy to think issues like diarrhea and nausea are related to other conditions – even food poisoning – you’re in luck.

The symptoms of gastrointestinal distress due to Long COVID are unique. Firstly, they usually persist for months, which is unlike food poisoning that only lasts days. Beyond that, you may also experience symptoms like body aches and even breathing difficulties. Finally, try to chart any recent COVID-19 infections so you know if there’s a temporal relationship.

Sleep Problems You may not think of long COVID causing sleep disturbances, but it’s actually fairly common. People with the condition will often struggle with insomnia, restless sleep, and even excessive sleep problems. Related problems include feelings of anxiety, depression, and other primary sleep disorders.

Again, look to see if your issues started close to an infection. If stress, lifestyle factors, or other disorders aren’t related, it could be due to COVID-19. And finally, look out for chronic fatigue syndrome. This issue is not usually fixed by adequate rest, which is different from most sleep conditions.

Heart Palpitations Ever feel like your heart is racing or doing funny things?

Do these odd sensations come with anxiety, severe dehydration, or other vascular issues? If you’ve been dealing with cardiovascular problems following a COVID infection, you’re not alone. In fact, these palpitations occur soon after infection, if they do occur.

Other symptoms to be on the lookout for are chest discomfort, shortness of breath, and feelings of dizziness. If you notice that your heart palpitations last for weeks and occur without any real exercise, it could certainly be related to COVID.

Sensory Sensitivities Sensory sensitivity is nothing new. It can come from lights, sounds, and even touching things. In some cases, everything around you may simply feel like too much. That’s why it is easy to confuse these sensations. Some migraine sufferers or individuals with fibromyalgia may report similar feelings.

But here’s how you know if it’s Long COVID or not…

Do you still show other symptoms of the virus, like respiratory issues, or fatigue or aches? When it comes to Long COVID, the effects usually hit multiple sensory systems, which is usually not the case with fibromyalgia.

If usual pain and migraine medications don’t work, consider talking to your doctor about Long COVID. The condition will usually disrupt daily living quite significantly, so if you’re struggling with multi-sensory issues, don’t ignore it.

When all is said and done, Long COVID can be a challenging diagnosis. Fortunately, many treatment protocols can help. In fact, many of the treatment protocols also help individuals who had adverse reactions to the COVID vaccines.

So if you’re not feeling like yourself, aren’t responding to normal medications, and can’t figure out long-lasting health problems, don’t stress yourself sicker. Listen to your body, listen to your healthcare professionals, and stay consistent.

With some tweaks and changes, you’ll be able to fight off that lingering sickness sooner than later!

[tiny-maus-boots]

Darkest of Nights pt 23

A/N: Hi yes I'm still here. Despite a hospital stay, a month without running water, a promotion, training deadlines and now a septic system failure. I'm so sorry it's been so long between updates but...life, am i right? oof.

As always thank you to @chloes-yellow-cup for still doing the thing for me and supporting me. And thank you to @kimmania for always looking for ways to give me time to breathe...and create. And thank you readers! You are so patient and i'm grateful for your support. Happy Monday! Aubrey

“That is impossible! I will have no part of this sham attempt to gain our consent to drain us dry for her own gain!”

Aubrey could feel Beca sigh heavily beside her. It was so very human and yet she could relate to the weariness in it. This conversation was as tedious as watching a corpse rot and her fingers twitched with the effort to keep from reaching out to throttle someone. 

Chloe seemed to sense her growing impatience and took a step forward to allow Beca to take a step back out of the line of fire. It was an effortless transition like a graceful dance move and Aubrey felt herself smile fondly at it.

“Okay, while I understand your fear, let's not forget that Beca has already done this once before with Aubrey. She healed her from sun damage.”

“That is not the same thing! Athan was cursed by someone long dead.” The vampire speaking turned to face Beca directly, accusation and mistrust plainly written across their features. “Do not promise that which you can not deliver, Necromancer. Athan means nothing to you, his pain and suffering are not whims for you to play at power with.”

“Lady, I can’t tell you how little I’m playing here.”

Beca was bored and Aubrey couldn’t blame her. But her tone caused the vampire to snarl and step forward aggressively. It was all for show, she knew, but despite her best efforts to contain her ire, Aubrey could feel the angles of her face sharpening as her monstrous visage threatened to reveal her true feelings. Vampires had a long history of showing disrespect to people she loved and she was unwilling to accept it any longer. 

“Enough of this. There will never be words of assurance to ease our fears, nor can there be. What you intend will drain us. You say not fully but that is the word of a curarva dii moartit, and the that is worth less than dog shit.” 

There was no sharp intake of breath, silence simply dropped over them like a suffocating cloak. No one dared to move for fear of drawing Aubrey’s attention to them. 

She strode forward a few steps and scanned the small group of dissenters. More than she had expected had agreed to allow Beca to attempt to help Athan, all that had gathered here were the few holdouts too afraid or too prejudiced to accept help when they most desperately needed it.

A few of them flinched back at her proximity but many were bold enough to meet her gaze. Too many of them. They had forgotten who she was and that they should be afraid of her. Aubrey’s voice breathed out in a tightly controlled whisper, the coldness of it enough to make the large room that much more frigid.

“What did you call her?”

Beca herself was only aware of the swift change in their behavior but she had no real understanding of the insult thrown at her. She reached out to the blonde but Aubrey was in no mood to be restrained this time. Nor would they respect her rule if she did not enforce it in the only way they could currently understand. There would be a time for a gentle hand in their leadership but now was not that time. She shook off Beca's light grip and pinned the vampire that has spoken with a deliberate stare.

The woman visibly fought the urge to lower her head in the face of Aubrey’s pitiless gaze and raised her chin a hair higher as a show of rebellion. Her face was unfamiliar to the blonde and she realized that nearly all the vampires in the room were strangers.  She didn't know any of their names or lineage.

“I called her what she is. Death Whore and you are nothing more than her puppet. You’ve been corrupted, you and Chloe both. You’re already under her control and see it not!”

Rage suffused their connection, in part from Chloe she knew but the fire within was primarily hers. Her face shifted with a painfully slow transition. And painful it was each and every time her horns pierced through her flesh. She let the woman see exactly what she was, let the knowledge and horror of it sink in before she shot a clawed hand out to clamp around her throat. It was no effort to fling her like a ragdoll across the room. None at all.

She was strong, she knew, but never had she been quite that fast or quite that powerful. Aubrey didn’t hesitate to press the advantage and leapt on the woman’s prone form before anyone had a chance to intervene. Not that any of the vampires would while she rained down fist after fist and claw after raking claw on the woman without pause. She didn’t stop until Beca’s frantic plea broke through the crunch of bone pulverizing under her blows and the spatter of cold blood hitting her face.

“Whoa whoa whoa…Bree please!”  

Aubrey stopped and turned her head to look directly at Beca.

”I will not allow disrespect, Beca. You wish to begin a new way but now you see why the old ways stand. Respect is earned with fear among vampires. This one held no fear, and thus no respect.” 

Beca hesitated as she sifted through what she knew of vampires and their politics and Aubrey appreciated that she hadn’t outright undermined her. She knew what it must look like to a human. How monstrous she must appear. Aubrey held Beca's gaze and let her see it all in it's horrifying, horned, blood splattered glory.

“Well it’s not like I love being called a whore, but is anyone going to really respect you going all grrr breaking her face for the sake of a necromancer?”

”No but they will fear me enough to respect you.” 

“I see.”

Aubrey tried to read the play of emotions across the smaller woman’s face. Beca sighed and shook her head sadly as she realized that Aubrey had needed to make a point. She brought herself closer to the pair and looked down at Aubrey. The necromancer reached out and gently caressed her cheek. The soothing coolness of Beca’s magic washed over her and her demon face melted away. 

“I think I get it. You’ve got no choice but to be hard sometimes to make a point. I get that and it’s okay, as long as you’re willing to be soft to make a point too.” 

Beca didn’t have to ask her out loud. She knew what was wanted of her. Aubrey looked down at the badly beaten vampire under her then back to Beca and nodded. The small woman smiled at her and leaned in for a soft kiss. Aubrey gave into it and the draw of power that was pulled from her with it. 

Beca leaned away only far enough to touch foreheads. “Thank you.”

Aubrey nudged Beca’s nose with her own and moved back so the necromancer could lean over the brutalized vampire. A wealth of compassion blossomed in her dark blue eyes despite the way she had been treated. It did not go unnoticed by those assembled.

”For what it’s worth I’m sorry. Not that Aubrey kicked the shit out of you. I think you know you kinda deserved that, but I’m sorry it’s come to this between us. Too many years of violence and mistrust to get past with mere words.”

The necromancer reached down and caressed the woman’s face with as gentle a hand as she had used on Aubrey. And despite her grave injuries the woman still feebly attempted to scoot away.

Beca shook her head sadly and pressed a hand gently to the vampire’s chest. She and Chloe inhaled deeply as Beca pushed their combined energies into a broken vessel. It filled the other vampire and reformed the broken flesh and bones of her face in a slow roll of muscle and skin smoothing over the sharp planes of her skeletal structure. 

“And this beating you got? Understand that it was Aubrey showing restraint. You could be so much deader by now if she didn’t care to give you a chance to make up for being a dickbag.”

Beca gazed over at Aubrey and an understanding passed between them. Yes. It could have been so much worse. She could have ended the woman and all others would have fallen in line after. But a beating even without Beca’s help would have healed eventually. However humiliated she would have been, she would still be alive to bear it.

The vampire gasped in a breath when Beca eased her power back and stepped away. She turned to the others standing around watching and raised her hands palms up before letting them drop. 

“Think about it. If you agree to help tell Chloe’s folks. But think fast, we’ve got other shit to do before the Great Clans get here. Or the Blood Guard.”

Beca turned on a heel and Aubrey and Chloe followed her out of the great hall. Aubrey could feel the smile stretch wide across her face. Their mate stopped just outside the door and looked back at the group of vampires. 

“If neither of us are willing to change, what the hell are we even doing here? If this is what it takes to earn respect are we any better the stupid Council?”

Beca shook her head in exasperation one last time and Aubrey held out her hand. The necromancer took it and kissed her knuckles as they padded toward their quarters. 

“Thank you. I know you probably could have ripped her head off and played basketball with it.”

Aubrey raised a shoulder in a shrug. She wasn't entirely sure what basketball was but she felt certain she could have easily torn the woman’s head from her body with no more effort than tearing parchment.

“She is frightened and angry  and more the fool for it. But being foolish alone should not be cause for death when a lesson will do. They will not disrespect you or Chloe ever again.”

Beca smiled at her and gave a half nod. 

“My hero. Of course there's nothing saying any of that made a difference. That lady vamp for sure hates me.”

Chloe chuckled and slid her hand into Beca’s free one. Her sweet smile lit her face with an ethereal glow and the necromancer stumbled over her feet for a second. Aubrey could relate, Chloe just had that kind of effect on people.

“You didn't see their faces when you healed Olivia. It made a difference, we just need to give them a minute. And anyway, we should get ready to meet the Great Clans, they'll be here soon and we look…eh.”

Beca looked down at herself then the two vampires at her side. 

“What's wrong with my outfit?”

“Oh baby, that's not an outfit. We can do better.”

“Huh. Got anything in black?”

"Oh Beca, you don't understand what you're getting into..."

Aubrey laughed but stifled it quickly when Chloe cut her bright eyes her way. The redhead raised a brow and eyed Aubrey’s attire critically.

“What are you laughing at, you could use some styling too.”

Aubrey's mouth opened at that and Beca laughed. 

“Chlo…if you wanted to get us naked you just had to ask.”

“Oh good, we should probably go do that now. But we better hurry, no telling who will knock on our door again.”

“Please don't let it be your dad. I don't think either of us are ready to look each other in the eye yet.” 

[anelegaicmind]

Why has capitalism appeared succesful for so long if so many people claim it to be the pinnacle of all evil?

Capitalism suffers from a great divide. There is pre-war capitalism (1500s to 1939) and post war capitalism (1945 to today). This great divide is heightened due to post-war capitalism being the only form in living memory while at the same time being severed by the period before it by the absolute destruction wreaked by ww2 for such a prolonged time.

Capitalism reached its peak virility during the 18th century for much of the world. This was when britain was shipping the most slaves from Africa, the USA had reached unending ferocity against its black, irish and italian slaves and indentured servants, while the use of child labour in british cotton mills had created truly vile work environments for the lowest classes. These wide spread cases of exploitation gave rise to concepts such as socialism and communism and saw quick growth that allowed the rise of workers unions and abolitionist movements.

Each of these movements moved at different paces throughout the world until the onset of ww1 which brought with it immense poverty and a major downturn in productivity resulting in the great depression. This pain was then doubled down on by ww2 which brought the capitalist world to such a dire edge due to lack of workers that it actually created the opposite effect: an economic boom. Throughout the 50s and 60s we saw immense growth. Due only to the fact that the population in many countries had dropped so sharply after the war workers were given better rights, higher salaries and workers unions held greater leverage as there was little else the capitalists could do. In the decades that followed capitalism painted itself a picture of perfect productivity and wealth to be shared.

Except now this is shifting downward. The global population is shifting once more. Global communication is showing us that slavery has not been abolished but simply moved to places we cannot see. There are too many workers in almost every sector which is affording capitalists to push down wages and hike up rents and other living costs. Our standard of living has entered its precipice and is now beginning its gradual change into a downward trajectory. A trajectory that will take us back into the abysmal living standards of the 18th century where workers are forced into slums, earning barely enough for their day and shackled by debt that prevents any opportunity of social mobility.

The only difference is that the modern capitalist world is not maintained by sugar and cotton but by consumerism and neophilism. Unlike the 18th century, if the capitalists continue to push down wages while increasing living costs we will be able to purchase less and less, thereby causing a crash in the potential that each individual is able to consume creating a new point of collapse of their coveted system of exploitation.

Even greater than the existential threat that capitalism poses to itself is the imminence of the climate catastrophe and the ever increasing risk of a third world war. Should a third world war begin and end it may offer a life line and a second economic boom under the wing of capitalism but with the potentially indefinite effects of climate catastrophe it is likely that capitalism will be unable to recover and will break under the scant resources, the collapse of supply chains and the mass movement of climate refugees.

Capitalism is on the verge of collapse but we must dismantle it early to provide the smoothest transition for a global population. Socialism, communism and anarchy will vie for power but only anarchism can exist in the total chaos that scientists forewarn. The only strength and resilience of anarchism against chaos is the investment into local communities, farmers and local craftspeople. Buy local. Build your local communities. Meet in person. Attend farmers markets. Make friends organically. Buy and sell art amongst your communities.

By becoming reliant on the local we are resilient to the breakdown of the global. Dont let the capitalist lie of comfort and convenience blind you to the vibrance and beauty that can be found in the local and the seasonal.

[misc-obeyme]

Barbatos used to be really reckless with his powers right? Imagine losing someone or multiple people because of how reckless he was and knowing he did it but having no real way to contact him. So when you get selected for the exchange program you immediately know it's him and proceed to avoid him and because he's always with diavolo you end up avoid him too. Naturally this was decades or centuries ago so... Immortal sorcerer MC anyone? They might forgive him, they might not. They play their part in the exchange program but nothing more.

Maybe they exploded at him and tell him how much it hurt to lose that person/those people. But of course he wouldn't know anything about the loss of losing someone.

OMG! BOWS FOR BARB ANON WANTS... DARE I SAY... ANGST!? MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK! It's late but I needed to send this in before I forgot.

Bows for barb

Although I tend to fluff it up, I actually quite like angst, too. And this is a very interesting concept. I like the idea of an immortal sorcerer MC who is already familiar with all the characters and in this case actually has a history with one of them.

I think it would definitely be revealed. I can't imagine that the other characters wouldn't notice, especially Diavolo. He'd want to know why MC was avoiding him.

In fact, I really think this would be kind of difficult for Barbatos to deal with. It seems to me that he's serving Diavolo in an attempt to repent for his time using his powers recklessly. It's also a way for him to restrain himself from falling into that again.

Imagine knowing that you've hurt a lot of people, including people you love, and attempting to change, to keep yourself from doing that again, only to have someone new show up who was so deeply hurt by your past actions. It'd be rough for both MC and Barbatos.

Of course, considering how much time has passed, I wonder if MC would be able to reconcile with Barb about it. Like if MC has been holding onto that pain for that long, wouldn't confronting the cause of it be therapeutic enough for them to let it go?

I have this vision of MC exploding, like you said, just going all out and yelling at Barbatos about what he did and the pain MC has suffered and how it's been twisting inside of them for all these long years and they're having a break down and crying and eventually tiring themselves out.

I see Barbatos just sitting there and taking it. Letting them yell at him. Letting them get all of that out of their system.

I see him apologizing, truly and sincerely, I hear his voice breaking on the words.

It hurts him to see what his actions have caused.

He tells MC that he never meant to hurt them. He tells MC that he has suffered from his own actions, too. He knows it isn't enough. But he's willing to do anything to help MC through this. He's sorry, he's so sorry. He's changed now. He isn't so careless.

Maybe MC can forgive him. Maybe they can't. I think he would accept it either way.

But maybe MC can at least be around him a little now. They stop avoiding Diavolo as much, at the very least.

And maybe later, when they're both a little calmer, they can talk about it more rationally.

Mmm. My heart! Of course it'd go a little differently if either of them was in love with each other, but I think this is angsty enough honestly.

[healix17]

Moment

After the final battle in Transformers: The Last Knight Optimus prime finds an injured Megatron and rests besides him.

Optimus smiled, the moment he cherished with Megatron was truly unforgettable.

Yet it also broke his spark to watch his beloved warlord leave him.

Optimus looked outside the window of their 'Autobot Ship' he remembered the moment vividly.

After the final battle he walked to a nearby forest in hopes he would find Day Trader—he didn't want to leave anyone behind— then he saw him, his lord high protector.

Megatron looked so weak and helpless.

Which would have been a perfect time to kill him.

To finish him.

To end it all

Yet a part of him couldn't do it.

“Why do I hesitate now? All those eons fighting a never ending war, millenniums of chasing eachother in an endless loop, centuries of murder and bloodshed, decades of hatred. Yet it only took a moment to take a glimpse of you just to convince me to show you some mercy.”

He sat next to him for a while, it was pretty awkward with them only staring at eachother then looking away.

His arm was ripped off and the energon dripping off it had dried up. His body was completely dented and was barely in one piece.

A hint of regret and sorrow washed over him.

"Prime.." Megatron muttered breaking the silence. “Why do you just sit there?”

“Could you be more specific?” the Autobot leader asked.

“You know what I mean.” he snapped and stared at him straight in the optics “Why would you just sit there and stay? Why don't you just end this again? Why don't you-” he cut himself off and sighed.

“Even I do not know why.” he replied softly “But I do not wish for this this to be like the other times. I do not wish for you to die again thinking I still despise you.”

Megatron's optics soften, a rare vulnerability creeping into his expression “You... surprise me, Optimus. I never thought I would see the day when you would show me even an ounce of kindness again.”

Optimus lightly chuckled "Perhaps...."

Then he frowned "Megatron, have you ever wondered what would happen, had we never....well started the war in the first place? Had we...I been more supportive to you would all this have happen? Had-”

"Don't mourn the past Optimus." The ex-warlord intrupted "We can't change the past. And it's not your fault, I got envious and my rage caused me to be blind. So if anyone were to be blamed it has to be me."

Optimus looked down he felt so much grief, sorrow and regret it was so complicated.

'' I suppose you're right." He smiled again "To be fair we did had a good time, when we used to rule Cybertron together. 'One fair one firm remember?'"

"I remembered." He replied. He was beginning to look even more tired.

"And yet, here we are," Megatron said softly. "I've failed in my quest for power, and you've stepped up to fill the void." He closed his optics for a moment, gathering strength.

"Let's not talk about the tragedy of the past, Megatron ." Optimus said trying to stay calm.

"I am proud of you, optimus," he whispered. "Despite everything, you have remained committed to peace and justice." A tear almost slipped from his optic. "Please... promise me you will continue that legacy."

"I promise." He smiled brightly.

For once he did not see the cold and violent Optimus prime, but instead he saw his Optimus. The mech who was innocent and meek, the mech who chose peace over violence. He regretted how he took that mech away.

Megatron's optics felt heavier, he felt so damn tired all of a sudden, his systems had already failed him. He tried to take one last glimpse of his Prime, he listened to his voice carefully. Knowing it was the last time he would see him.

Optimus felt a faint pulse from within Megatron's body. It was weak, but it was there.

"You did well, Optimus," he whispered. "Keep fighting for what's right." Megatron felt his spark fade, and with it, all the pain and suffering he had endured.

The conversation between Optimus and Megatron was over. Megatron no longer possessed the strength to communicate. His body lay still, but within it, his spark continued its eternal journey, finally at rest.

In that moment, he was finally at peace.

Optimus stayed close to him for a while trying to not look so sorrowful. He remembered Megatron telling him back on cybertron on how he hated seeing him so sad.

It hurted his spark so much.

He stayed there until all the warmth of Megatron's body faded away.

He wanted to stay there forever, he wanted to die alongside him. The mech he cared about the most. But he had people to look after.

'Promise me you will continue that legacy.'

His words kept ringing in his ear.

Optimus held Megatron's hand one last time and left.

Back at his Autobot ship he now called the Ark. He walked towards the entrence only to be greeted by all his Autobots and Cade's family.

"Welcome back Optimus!" Izabelle greeted happily.

Optimus smiled back, fabricating his sadness.

The sight of his new family and Megatron's words gave him a new motivation, a new reason to fight, a new reason to rebuilt Cybertron.

He looked up at the stars and smiled. 'I promise I'll continue our legacy.' Optimus wispered.

He felt as if Megatron was smiling back at him, that was enough for Optimus.

He entered the Ark like the others, knowing that Megatron's soul will always guide him no matter what.

If this is bad I wanna say I'm sorry, it's my first time actually posting a story online.

[noodleblade]

absolutely love your fics! if you’re still taking requests, I think a rodimags sickfic would be adorable!!

this fic was written in April and I finally got around to editing it ;--; thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy:3

Ao3 Link

A chill crawled along trembling plating; its frosty fingers digging into the transformation seams like shards of ice. Minimus Ambus curled tightly into a ball as a frame deep ache rolled across his body. A dull, throbbing pain echoed in the center of his forehelm, his processor sluggish under the tight building pressure. Nausea threatened to flip his tanks, leaving him to swallow down acidic balls of static.

Minimus was well and truly sick.

He wasn’t sure of the exact cause. An internal system scan showed him free of any physical damage and he was clean of any infectious malware corroding his software. The only blip he could see across his vitals was a small system bug, a coding error his internal processor was struggling to correct. 

It happened from time to time, though it was often rare to feel it affect him so deeply. His system was prone to bugs when he swapped between hardwiring into the Magnus armor and disconnecting into his current frame. He wasn’t sure why his frame sometimes hiccuped in its recalibration sequencing but, alas, it was not completely unexpected. Irritating nevertheless. 

Distantly, Minimus wondered if the other prior users of the armor suffered the same or was it purely due to the inadequacies of his smaller frame?

He groaned as another tremor wrecked through his chassis, letting his optics offline as he tried to regain a semblance of composure. While this bug was a bit more severe than he was used to, he was not going to shirk off his responsibilities. The very thought of taking a sick day set his processor ablaze. All his duties, both per his station and self-imposed, would be unaccounted for without a proper replacement. He’d have to reassign them all, to make sure the proper mech was assigned the right segments of his job. 

It would…be simpler to just move his shift back. A small nap would provide him adequate rest while his system defragged the coding error. The estimated time for a total defrag was just two breems if he settled into a deep recharge. It would give him ample time to take up a later shift and complete his tasks. 

Yes, Minimus thought to himself as he settled further into the berth, just a small nap. 

He made the change quickly, optics already offlining as Thunderclash valiantly agreed to swap desk duty with him. Minimus could rest easy knowing the ship was in good hands until his nap finished. His recharge parameters started kicking in and he drifted into an aimless, deep slumber. 

—

A loud knock echoed across the dark abyss. Minimus jolted at the noise, his audials ringing at the abrupt sound as his spark rattled in his chassis. It took an agonizingly long moment for him to realize where he was, his blind optics scanning the room. 

His optics spied his orderly desk alongside the severe outline of the Magnus armor and a calm washed over him, though the drumming ache in his joints was still there. Slowly, he curled into his bed, using his arms to cradle his pounding helm. He just needed to fall back into recharge, chase the quiet slumber. According to his internal clock, his defrag was not even halfway done and for once, the prospect of rest sounded preferable to marking tasks complete on his HUD. 

The knock rapped against his door again, more persistent this time in a quick, rapid staccato. Minimus groaned quietly to himself as he tried to make himself smaller in the berth. 

A wild thought struck him as he struggled to settle, one he would only blame on the delirium of his sluggish, sickly frame. 

What if he ignored the call?

The idea was not only against his very character, but a deeper, more delusional part of him almost reveled in the depravity of such an act of selfish negligence.

But it was not without good reason.

His frame was too achy and weak to possibly entertain the thought of having anyone see him in such a state. Minimus wasn’t even wholly sure if he could get himself out of the berth at all. If he didn’t answer, whomever it was would just leave and catch him some other time. They could send him a memo, call his comm if it were truly urgent. Besides, the doors were locked, with only a select few with override authorization-

A sudden click had Minimus’s optics snapping over as he watched the door slowly slide open, a red and yellow figure standing at the threshold. 

“Yo! Mags?” 

Bright light flooded the room and Minimus turned his helm into the berth to avoid the blinding brightness. The light bringing about his helmache twofold.  

“Oh. Scrap. My bad, Mims.” 

At the soft shhhtck of the doors closing, Minimus peered up to see Rodimus walking towards him. Deceptively, Minimus thought he could see…worry? on his Captain’s faceplates. The thought caused his chest plates to tighten uncomfortably. 

“Captain?” Minimus croaked, his mind running through every possible problem that could have arisen in his absence and to cause Rodimus to look at him with that horrible pinched expression. 

Another mutiny? Pirates? Word from Cybertron? An explosion in the labs? Anything pertaining to Whirl?

He tried to sit up, to give his Captain his full and proper attention- never mind how inconsiderate and unprofessional it was to receive his Captain while still laying in his berth. However, as he lifted himself up, a wave of nausea curled in his intake and he immediately thought perhaps it would be better if he remained prone. It was still gratingly unprofessional but not as much as purging at his superior’s pedes. 

He felt…exposed on his too big berth. When the quarters had originally been assigned to him, adjustments had been made to fit Ultra Magnus’s large, boxy frame. It was perfect for when he was wearing the armor, but without it…the berth felt ridiculously large. Far too large for a standard size bot, much more so for a minibot like Minimus. He didn’t want to even think about what it would look like if he were in his truer, smaller form.

“Pits,” Rodimus crept closer, his expression morphing into something decidedly worried. “You look like slag, Mims.”

“Thank you for your thoughtful assessment,” Minimus groaned. A shiver traveled down his spine and Minimus could feel his denta clatter together. 

 Rodimus graciously ignored the snarky comeback. “Are you sick? Uh, should I get Ratchet?”

“No,” Minimus nearly bolted up right once more. The sudden movement made his processor spin and he quickly fell back onto the berth, bringing his servo up to cover his optics. The room was spinning. “I’m fine. It's just a small system bug.”

“Sure.” Rodimus sounded anything but convinced. “It’s not like you to skip your shift.”

Minimus frowned behind his servo. “Skip? My shift isn’t until third rotation.” 

He had swapped with Thunderclash, responsibly making sure he wouldn’t leave a gap in coverage. He had reassigned himself, leaving appropriate room for recovery. His defrag was only estimated for 2 breems and it wasn’t even halfway over. 

Rodimus snorted. “Yeah, that was over a breem ago. Megs took your shift for you and told me not to bother you.”

“Oh.” Minimus swallowed around the word. 

A quick glimpse at his defrag estimation window still showed half left to work through, but time lapsed showed near double that what had been estimated. It looked as if the defrag had stalled, struggling with a nasty tangle of mixed up coding. In the midst of his slumber, Minimus had been unaware, his recharge attempting to conserve power.

Embarrassment curled around his throat and Minimus felt his stomach flip. Failure, even when medically induced, was still a shameful, humiliating feeling.

 “Why are you here?”

“You think Megatron can just tell me what to do?” Rodimus huffed. A warm servo pressed against Minimus’s exposed forehead. “Primus, you’re icy. Are you sure you don’t want me to get Ratchet?” Worry tinged his Captain’s words. 

Originally, Minimus had taken Rodimus’s concern as something surely going catastrophic on the ship. He hadn’t considered the possibility it was over his well-being. 

It shouldn’t make his spark spin at the thought but…it was rare to find Rodimus concerned about anything, much less him. It wasn’t that Rodimus was an unkind mech, but…Minimus was unused to the treatment all the same. 

“I’ll be okay,” Minimus murmured shyly, his words slow under the delightfully warm, heavy weight of Rodimus’s hand on his helm. “I just need to rest. Once my system has done a thorough debugging, I should be back in right order. I can make up for my missed shift and issue a formal apology to Megatron.”

During the debugging, most of his internal systems were stalled until the problem was sorted, which included thermal regulation. While his frame was well above critical chill point, Minimus was cold. Normally, he would have resorted to using the Magnus armor for heating, subrouting its ventilations inward for additional warmth. However, Minimus was worried that hardwiring in would leave the armor vulnerable to catching the system bug and while it was a small, measly thing, he didn’t want to risk any damage to the armor. 

Rodimus snorted an unamused laugh. “Only you would worry about making up work when you can barely keep your optics online. It’s fine. Megatron’s got nothing going on anyway. If anything, he should be thanking you.”

Minimus felt unnaturally soothed by those words. “Of course, Captain.”

“Need help warming up?” Rodimus asked.

Minimus hummed an affirmative. He opened his mouth to give instruction on where Rodimus could find a thermal tarp. He didn’t keep any in his quarters but if Rodimus went to supply closet 3B24, there should be extras and-

The edge of the berth creaked and Minimus felt movement.

He let his optics online slowly, just in time to see Rodimus shimmy onto the berth and flop down beside him.

“What are you doing?” Minimus asked. He tried for indignation but it fell short and sounded more pitiful than anything else. 

“Well,” Rodimus huffed as he scooted closer, “I run a little hot and since you're cold…”

Minimus raised a concerned optic ridge but before he could swat Rodimus away, warmth swept against his frame as Rodimus pulled him closer.

“Oh,” Minimus murmured, halfway between a grasp and, embarrassingly enough, a moan. 

“Told ya.” He could hear the cocksure grin in the Captain’s voice but found no need to dismiss it. Not when Rodimus was so heavenly, blazingly correct. Despite himself, Minimus pressed closer until he could feel his pedes knock against Rodimus’s knees. “Feels good right?”

Admission was…too much. Minimus may be borderline snuggling with his Captain, but he would not further feed Rodimus’s ego, especially when any affirmation felt like a confession. Even allowing Rodimus this crossing of boundary felt like a blatant confession, admission, something too vulnerable. Thankfully, Minimus’s ailment seemed to allow for perfect plausible deniability. Which was great because Minimus…didn’t want to give up this warmth any time soon.

“Aren’t you on shift?” Minimus asked blearily. He knew he could check the schedule and confirm this but…for once, Minimus would find himself okay if Rodimus decided to lie. He would be purposefully oblivious.

“Nah,” Rodimus stretched out. “I transferred that to Drift to come investigate your situation.”

Minimus hummed, a shiver wrecking through his body making him curl close to Rodimus’s too-warm plating. “How diligent.” He meant it bitingly, but it almost came out complimentary. 

Above him, Rodimus snorted, servo coming to rest against the center of Minimus’s strut. The warmth made Minimus melt, any remaining tension in his frame seeping away as he laid slack against his captain. 

“Besides,” Rodimus shifted a little, settling further into the large berth, “it would be un-diligent of me to leave you unattended.”

Minimus bit his tongue as his processor nagged him that Ratchet or First Aid would be better medical professionals to call upon attendance to his ailment. Instead, he pressed his face into Rodimus’s broad chest plate, knocking his forehead against his Autobot badge. He even ignored the incorrect negative affixation.

 “Responsibility is a good look for you, Captain.”

“Jeez Mims,” Rodimus leered, though his tone was too soft to hold any real edge, “skipping shift and flirting with your superior; you must really be out of it.”

Weakly, Minimus lifted his servo to lightly tap Rodimus on the lips, grumbling a soft shhh. In the retreating motion, he scrambled for the edge of the tarp hanging around their waists.

Seeing his wants, Rodimus reached for the tarp easily, pulling it up to rest loosely at Minimus’s neck. Tiny engine vibrating in a quiet purr, Minimus let his optics flicker off, content to listen to Rodimus’s inner mechanics whirl softly in his chassis. “Sleep, Mims,” Rodimus murmured quietly. Distantly, at the edges of his sensor net, Minimus could have sworn he felt the warm drag of digits tracing along his spinal strut. “I’ll watch your back.”