#when i know from firsthand experience over two decades that that's just not how it fucking works

[foxxsong]

Man, I get wanting to shit on homeschooling conservatives about trying to brainwash their kids or whatever and I'm sure that happens in some cases, but this pervasive idea that homeschooling is always a red flag HAS to go.

You know what my family did to try and ensure I was only exposed to the "right" topics in the "right" way? Send me to private school. You know what other families with conservative or religious agendas did to ensure their kids would only experience what they approved of at school? Sent them to a fucking private school. Even the families that did not have NEARLY enough money to properly justify private education did it because of how much they wanted to ensure their kid was only exposed to their values.

You know what caused my parents to finally start considering homeschooling for me and my brother? When our disabilities made attending an actual school too difficult or even impossible. The other cases of people I've known or met who were either homeschooled or homeschooling their kid(s) were pretty much exclusively cases where it was detrimental to the CHILD to be attending in-person schooling.

Conservatives have options to continue sending their kids to school while still teaching them only what they want. Disabled kids and their families? Often homeschooling is the only way to keep their kid in school while also valuing their health.

If I had kids I'd sure as hell prefer to homeschool. I couldn't finish my high school diploma because I know firsthand how little our education system gives a shit about the health, well-being, and reasonable milestones of its students (and it's only gotten worse since I dropped out). You can give a child a good education on their terms while also letting them have experiences for growth and meeting a wide variety of people without having to rely completely on a system that does not care about them. And the idea that people would be suspicious of me? Just for not wanting to subject my kids to the hell I and other people like me have gone through? Pisses me off.

[fragmented-sike]

A Lifeline for DID/OSDD: The Journal that could Change your Life

Hey guys! We're incredibly excited to share something that's finally been released for a month now: the Pieces in Peace Journal. This journal isn't just another project for us-it's resource born out of necessity and a deep understanding of what it means to live with Dissociative Identity Disorder and Other Specified Dissociative Disorder. And to celebrate a month of being launched, we're hosting a GIVEAWAY where two (2) lucky winners will receive a copy of the journal along with free lifetime updates to the journal!

Why we created the Journal

Living with DID/OSDD can feel incredibly overwhelming. When I was first diagnosed, I felt so alone. I felt like a freak. I felt isolated and scared and confused. This is why I got online and found community here to begin with. The daily challenges of managing different parts of yourself, tracking moods, tracking time-loss, dealing with memory gaps, and trying to explain your experiences to others can make life feel chaotic and confusing. I've personally navigated these complexities for close to a decade now, as I was diagnosed nearly 8 years ago, and I know firsthand how difficult it can be to find the right tools and resources to help make sense of it all.

Access to care is a major issue for so many of us. Whether it's due to financial barriers, lack of knowledgeable therapists, or simply not knowing where to turn, many people with DID/OSDD struggle to find the support they need. That's why I created the Pieces in Peace Journal-to offer a comprehensive, supportive resource that can be used alongside therapy or as a standalone tool for those who don't have access to regular treatment. I consulted with DID specialists and took tools from my own extensive treatment history to create this resource to offer the community.

This journal is designed to help you navigate the multifaceted nature of DID and OSDD, providing structure and clarity amidst what can sometimes feel like chaos. It's a tool for self-discover, emotional regulation, and system collaboration-a way to bring a sense of peace and understanding to your journey.

In the Journal you will find:

Post-Regulation Tracker: Track your feelings and progress after using regulation techniques for better self-awareness.

Communication Log: Record interactions between alters to enhance system communication and understanding.

Distress Tolerance Plan: Quick steps and techniques to manage and reduce distress effectively.

System Collab Goals: Set and track collaborative goals within your system for cohesive growth and progress.

These sections, along with MANY others (over 100 pages!!), are designed to support you in understanding and managing your system. They're tools to help you keep track of your progress, set goals, and ensure that everyone in your system is working together toward common goals.

Why the Journal Matters:

This journal isn't just a collection of pages-it's a lifeline for those who feel lost in the complexities of DID and OSDD. Each section is thoughtfully crafted to address the unique challenges that come with living with a dissociative disorder.

How to Enter the Giveaway:

To celebrate the one month launch of the Pieces in Peace Journal, we're hosting a giveaway! Here's how you can enter:

Check out the Giveaway post on IG for ALL the details on entering. Reblogging here counts as an extra entry!

This giveaway is open internationally and ends on August 20, 2024

Thank you so much to everyone who has supported us over the many years we've been on Social Media. We used to have a tumblr under the name FrgmntdPsyche that we deleted many years ago, however we are back now and plan on staying. Thank you to all of you who have had interest in the Pieces in Peace Journal and have supported us in it's creation and release! We truly appreciate every one of you and hope this journal becomes a valuable companion on your journey.

Stay tuned as we continue to work on making more resources for people across many spectrums (CPTSD, Chronic Illness/Pain, ADHD, and more!), host more giveaways, and help as best we can to give back to an incredible community who has saved our life on more than one occasion. Join our Discord for even more support and a great little cozy community of amazing people!

[broken-clover]

Sometimes I'm normal and sometimes I think about how Ky has never really gotten to live a normal life and the one time he tried to it was ripped away from him by the conclave and maybe that's why him and Dizzy bonded so quickly because they were both denied basic life experiences due to circumstances beyond their control

Ky is such an intriguing character to me. Because there are stretches of time wherein I'll not forget him per se but he tends to slip a bit into the background for me, aND THEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAPPENS AND THEN I BECOME THE MOST UNCHILL ABOUT KY KISKE BECAUSE I'M SO MAD ABOUT HOW SHITTY HIS LIFE IS.

KY JOINED THE MILITARY AT AGE TEN. HE JOINED THE MILITARY AT TEN YEARS OLD. THEY MADE HIM INTO A WEAPONS PRODIGY AT FIFTEEN AND MADE HIM AN INSPIRATIONAL FIGURE EVEN BEFORE HE WAS DONE WITH PUBERTY. KLIFF WILLINGLY AND INTENTIONALLY RETIRED AND PUT A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD BOY IN CHARGE OF THE MILITARY TO WIN A WAR NOBODY HAD SUCCEEDED IN DOING OVER A HUNDRED YEARS. I DON'T CARE IF HE WAS A PRODIGY HE WAS A CHILD, OF COURSE HE DID AS HE WAS TOLD WHAT OTHER CHOICE DID HE HAVE AND KLIFF WAS THE CLOSEST THING TO A FATHER THAT HE'D HAD SINCE HIS PARENTS FUCKING DIED AND KLIFF JUST UP AND LEFT KY WITH ALL THE WORLD'S BURDENS AS A FUCKING TEENAGER AND EXPECTED HIM TO BE OKAY.

OF COURSE HE'S STUBBORN AND COMBATIVE IN THE EARLIER GAMES THATS LITERALLY ALL HE'S BEEN TAUGHT HOW TO DO OF COURSE HE CAN'T RETIRE AFTER THE WAR OR FIND SOMETHING QUIET HOW CAN A MAN BUILT TO BE A SOLDIER JUSTIFY HIMSELF WHEN THERE'S NO BATTLE TO BE FOUGHT AND OF COURSE THE VERY SECOND HE MAY BE ABLE TO THINK THAT HE COULD LIVE QUIETLY AND MAKE SOMETHING LOVELY THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS OR WAR AND HE GETS A GUN POINTED TO HIS FAMILY'S HEAD AND FORCED TO HAVE THE WORLD PUT UPON HIS BACK AGAIN WHEN JUST FOR A MOMENT HE THOUGHT HE COULD FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING ELSE. HE DOESN'T EVEN CHASTISE HIS OWN SON OR TRY TO JUSTIFY HIMSELF BECAUSE HE KNOWS FULL WELL NOW THAT NOBODY GIVES A SHIT ABOUT HIS OPINION OR WHAT HE THINKS UNLESS IT'S HOW TO WIN A WAR AND NOW THE WORLD IS CONSTANTLY WATCHING HIM AND SCRUTINIZING BUT NOBODY IS PAYING ATTENTION BECAUSE HE'S SIMULTANEOUSLY THE WORLD'S BRILLIANT STRATEGIST KING AND ALSO A SURLY CHILD WHOSE OPINIONS THEY CAN IGNORE WHENEVER IT SUITS THEIR MOOD BECAUSE TWO DECADES HAVE PASSED AND HE'S STILL NOTHING MORE THAN A PUPPET TO BE TOSSED AROUND AND SUMMARILY DISCARDED AS SOON AS HE ISN'T USEFUL ANYMORE.

KY KISKE IS 30 YEARS OLD. BARELY. HE'S BEEN CHEWED UP AND SPIT OUT PRACTICALLY NONSTOP FOR TWO DECADES AND THE FACT THAT HE HASN'T BECOME A GENOCIDAL VILLAIN ON ITS OWN HAS TO QUALIFY FOR SOME KIND OF SAINTHOOD BUT HE STILL FUNDAMENTALLY BELIEVES IN OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR NEAR-ENDLESS CAPACITY FOR GOOD DESPITE BEING SOMEONE WHO IS FULLY AWARE OF AND HAS WITNESSED SOME OF THE MOST HIDEOUS ASPECTS OF HUMAN NATURE FIRSTHAND.

We could debate their relationship from every angle until the cows come home but I can't help but feel that for Ky there was some blessed relief in meeting someone who never expected the world from him and never say him as the war hero child prodigy, just an ordinary man.

[anruraiocht]

Abatina and carnation

botanical headcanons (no longer accepting)

abatina :   is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time   ( due to becoming more educated on the topic ,   certain experiences  ,   etc .) , or that they   would   change their mind about under certain circumstances ?

ABATINA: THE EVER LOOMING SHADOW OF LEIF FARIS CLAUS

Smiles thinly.

Look. Look. I'm sorry for the feminism loss as well, but it is so hard to talk about Miranda without talking about Leif. Ten years of projecting all of your issues on a guy will do that to you.

When we first meet Miranda, she seems entirely adamant that she blames Leif for everything that has happened to her. The little blame game she tries to play is extremely emotionally driven (literally what was Leif, age 2, supposed to do girl) and falls apart under scrutiny.

like ok. let's walk through this for a second.

"it's leif's fault" > finn is the one who brought him there > finn only brought him because leonster fell > leonster fell because thracia attacked and ulster didn't step in until the end > (dominoes) (THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF NORTHERN THRACIA VS SOUTHERN THRACIA THAT BROUGHT US TO US POINT)

So. Obviously through the events of FE5 and experiencing the war firsthand, Miranda's opinion on Leif changes. She already knows, deep down, that it isn't actually Leif's fault, but it isn't until she is forced to contend with the reality of the situation that she is able to admit it.

carnation :   what is your muse’s relationship with their gender ? how do they express or not express this relationship ?

CARNATION: JUGDRALI MISOGYNY HITS DIFFERENT

(it gets long here)

Okay so let's get one thing straight: if Miranda was a man, she would be dead. Full stop. When you're taking over a kingdom, the last thing you want is to leave a male heir alive. A male heir, left alive, can eventually take back their kingdom and become king, but a female heir cannot. She, however, can be used as a hostage. And she is! For ~ten years! Before we even learn her name, Miranda's agency is stolen from her.

The moment Miranda gets agency (and her kingdom) back, her advisors tell her that she needs to marry Leif to tie Ulster to Leonster. It's no secret that the Munster District is doing. Uh. Bad. As in, Miranda and Leif are the only heirs left alive by the end of Thracia 776. It makes sense, strategically, to have the only two heirs left alive get married and merge their kingdoms and both of them understand this. Doesn't mean they have to like it, though!

Leif: "...And Ulster was successfully liberated by Lord Seliph, so the people should be happy that their princess was safe.”

Miranda: “Well, yes, but… The people want more than that. My advisors are urging me to marry you so that we can unite with Leonster. They think they can just tell me what to do because I’m a girl…” Leif: “Well, you and I are the only heirs that survived this turmoil. What your advisors are saying only makes sense. But I’m not sure…”

We're not gonna get into Leif's little unhinged moment that happens right after this btw. The important part here is that Miranda is frustrated. Obviously. Miranda has been living in the basement of a Loptr monastery for a year and it's not enough that she made it back alive. Well, yes, your highness, it's all well and good that you survived, but there's not much you can do for us as a princess... would you mind getting married? As soon as possible? To the guy you've projected all of your problems and issues on for the last decade? Thanks!

Jesus fucking Christ!!!!!!!!

When they pulled this line for one of Miranda's skill activation quotes in FEH (albeit shortened from 女だと思ってバカにしてるわ to 女だと思って…！), it has been translated as:

I am a girl, not a fool!

Which I think is very evocative of the way Miranda thinks of herself. She does not resent existing as a girl, but she does resent the way she is looked down upon for being a girl.

And while we're on the topic of how Miranda talks (the most inelegant segue in the world)...!

It's not as noticeable in English, nor is it especially noticeable when you first meet her and she's hissing and spitting at Leif, but Miranda uses feminine speech (女性語) when she speaks! This is a style of speaking in Japanese that is considered "ladylike" and formal, using more polite terms. Traditionally speaking, it's a style of speech associated with upper class ladies.

This is more noticeable in her Conomor recruitment dialogue...

コノモール もうおやめなさい！ ... それなのに あなたは何をしているの！

As well as her conversation with Leif in the last chapter...

リーフ王子 少しいいかしら ... 私・・・ あなたに謝らなければ ならないことがあるわ

I've bolded the relevant parts here. Miranda affixes the polite o- prefix to yamenasai and ends some of her sentences with the more traditionally feminine ending particles of no, wa, and kashira.

It's... a little hard to explain in English but the way she speaks is very princess-like haha.

There is also the Genderisms of Miranda's promoted class: Mage Knight. In FE4, Mage Knight is a male only class (as a promotion for Azelle and Arthur + enemy units). In FE5, we get our first female Mage Knights through Olwen and Miranda, but the rest of the Mage Knights in the game are male. We can say that Olwen is following in her brother Reinhardt's footsteps, but Miranda doesn't have that same connection. Would she be better served as a sage, considering her 70% magic growth and fucking 5% strength growth? Absolutely! However, she saw that sages get staff access and said oh no thank you. i'm here to kill and maim.

And she deserves it.

That last part isn't exactly related to genderisms (or is it? Every other girl capable of wielding magic in FE5 besides Miranda and Olwen gets staff access... :thonking: ) I just think it's very funny characterization through gameplay. her ass is NOT healing.

tl;dr: Miranda is a character that is defined by her status as a princess and as a girl.

[lockandkeyhyena]

Sorry in advance for the long block of text here… Ive been seeing your ocs all over my feed and now im obsessed!!! Hope you do not mind answering my 5000 questions!! . ~ What was Hercules like as a wee lad?… For the sake of science if you stuck him in a room with 6 other children, what would he do..? would he have any notable / unusual habits compared to the others….? ~ If Hercules could wish for anything ever in the world what would he wish for. Also whats the most expensive thing hes ever bought! ~ Does he have any consistent quirks/stims…? Any silly gestures or quotes ? ~ What do you think an average day would be like for him ? What does he usually eat ? … Hows his morning / evening routines? Is it basic or extensive? Do you think hed be the type to take an hour long candle-lit shower and bathe himself in 50 creams lotions perfumes … or does he just dip and go ? ~ What is his house like…? Does he have his own or is it a family home / did he inherent it. Do you have any idea what it would look like ? What does his own personal room look like ? does he enjoy keeping/collecting anything in particular , or is he a minimalist

Okay now for the sake of science and connecting to Hercules psychologically I must know how he would react to the following scenarios: ~ If he one day woke up in a 4x4 cage in the middle of the Arizona desert what would be do? … ~ If he was walking around one day and suddenly the government said his city was gonna be nuked in 10 MINUTES what would he do? … ~ If he went to walmart and saw a child throwing a tantrum over toys what would he do? …. ~ If he was sitting around and a cute little kitty or puppy came up to him and wanted food and pets really badly what would be do? … ~ if he was going on about his day and, bare with me now, was firsthand witness to the oppa homeless style tumblr text post scenario, in real life, what would he do? That is all .... Thank you for your time homie of tumblr nation

please DO NOT apologise these sorts of questions and character analysis things are the stuff i LIVE for. strap in folks its gonna be a long one gonna answer these in bulletpoint form maybe a drawing or two scattered throughout!

~ Hercules was,, uhhh,,,,, Not that similar to other children and that fact only exacerbated as he got older. At his mentally healthiest he probably would’ve gotten a lot of ‘wow you’re so mature for your age!’s from adults. Growing up being completely desensitised to violence and in a relatively loving but still very fucked up environment will do that to you.

In regards to sticking him in a room with a bunch of other children and seeing what happens- he actually went to kindergarten! Titan was surprisingly firm that he have as regular of an education and upbringing possible for the kid of a mafia boss. She…. half-managed.

In regards to your thought experiment, here are some drawings from his time at kindergarten when he was at his least traumatised!

~ If he could wish for anything. This is an amazing question- what do you give the man who thinks he has everything he wants? He’d probably wish for whatever problem in the moment that was stumping him to be fixed (gang relations, nosy detectives, etc). Personally I think he should wish for some therapy but thats just me.

In regards to money, he’s really not that extravagant a spender (leave that to Titan) and his quarters are rather modest, the most he’s ever spent on things are probably gifts for his mother lol.

~ Oh BOY does he have stims- he taps. He’ll rhythmically tap his cane on the floor, tap his feet, twitch his tail and tap his nails against the nearest surface. He usually does this when he’s impatient or bored and it’s Not a good sound to hear when in a meeting with him. Though he tends to do this unconsciously and will usually stop if he notices and is in the company of other people (he thinks its unprofessional).

~ Like I said above, he’s really not super into decadence, he thinks extravagance and showy displays of wealth are tacky and unnecessary. His morning routine is probably something along the lines of wake up at 8am, take an ice cold shower, get dressed, eat breakfast (homecooked meals only. He’s a surprisingly good cook), check up on his finances, go do all the things he needs to do for the day, come back home and go to sleep. Very important note is that he wears those cartoon blue and white striped pyjamas.

~ DESPITE not being into overt displays of wealth, he does in fact live in a giant fuck off victorian mcmansion that he inherited from his mother. He doesn’t even use half of it and spends all his time in the house either sleeping or holed up in his study.

His study is a mess btw. Papers everywhere, needs to be swept. He’s very embarrassed about it but since he only ever uses it for all-nighters he never has any time to clean or organise it. His bedroom is immaculately tidy with only a few personal effects and the rest of the house aside from the essentials and a few guest rooms is covered in a fine layer of dust.

okay and here are his reactions to some hypothetical scenarios!

~ Cage in the desert. Okay so his thought process would probably go something like this;

Step one. Don’t panic. Evaluate the time of day through the position of the sun. Scan memories from last night to check for any gaps or places he could have been drugged.

Step two. Go down through his list of enemies and try and figure out who was most likely to have done this.

Step three. Do not panic. Felines can survive for three days without water. It likely hasn’t been more than half a day since he was kidnapped and Leroy will have been alerted to his disappearance and is likely looking for him now.

Step four. Do. Not. Panic. Stay put and attempt to look for weaknesses in the cage, if none can be found stay put and don’t waste your energy. Prepare to drink your own piss if things get bad. Also prepare snarky retort for when Leroy finds you.

~ Nuke scenario. Probably try very hard not to panic and follow his emergency evacuation plan of the city and try to get as far away as possible with his friends most valuable employees.

~ Child tantrum. Depending on the age of the child he might just straight up flash a gun at them to try and get them to shut up. He wasn’t this whiny as a kid- what’s their problem?

~ Very cute animal begging for attention. If alone, the most logical course of action is to acquiesce to its’ demands and give it a pat. It doesn’t take away attention from the task at hand will get it to stop making annoying noises. If he’s with other people he would ask them to give it attention to get it to stop bothering him.

~ Oppa homeless style. He would slowly back away, go home, get out a bottle of his strongest liquor and re-evaluate what he’s doing with his life. Too bad oppa homeless style doesn’t exist in the canon of sadboycats 😔

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE QUESTIONS and apologies for the absolute wall of text in response. These kitties have been eating up my brain.

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

Games in 2023: Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection (2/2)

I, uh, ended up with a lot to say, and rather than practice restraint and edit it down I decided to just split this in two.  The first part goes over collection features and the three games in Vol. 1.  This one covers the three games in Vol. 2 (and it’s still pretty long).

I’ll also repeat my spoiler-free tl;dr: While these games do show their age, the collection provides excellent ways to mitigate the negatives, plus there are two decades worth of in-depth guides across the internet to help you along.  What holds up is a bundle of very unique and fun mechanics set in a world overflowing with both charm and heart.  I absolutely recommend it.  The collection has two volumes (that line up exactly with a major pivot in the series)—if you only get Vol. 1, I would recommend starting with either BN2 or 3 (BN1 is largely foundational and understandably rough around the edges), and if you only get Vol. 2 I would recommend starting with BN6 (it’s remarkably well-refined and far less divisive than BN4 and 5).

Resuming execution…

So now we come to…BN4.  Right.  Well, first things first: as I’ve said previously, I find it really unfortunate that this game has the reputation that it does considering the vast quantity of work that must have gone into it.  BN4 takes the series in a completely new direction, with a completely overhauled art style, and…how many new systems?  Emotion Window/Full Synchro, Dark Chips/karma, Soul Unison, Operation Battle, Free Tournament, e-Reader functionality…plus they made an entirely new villain who wasn’t even being manipulated by Wily (but still tied back to him through being his son).  Not to mention that Red Sun and Blue Moon feel like equal counterparts, which is one advantage it has over BN3.  They put in WORK, and BN5, BN6, and all of SF exists because of all that work and experimentation.  I’d like to remember BN4 as an ambitious game.  However, that…proves difficult.  Let’s see, what’s a good positive starting point…how about the Emotion Window?  It’s a neat way to add a new layer to the combat, and provides a comeback mechanic as well as rewarding you for skillful play.  While I do miss easy BugFrag grinding, Full Synchro as a reward for countering provides an immediate in-battle reward, letting you push your advantage and inflict some huge damage.  If you do poorly, however, you gain access to Dark Chips, which…are a really interesting concept, if you ask me.  Unfortunately, I think they really erred on the side of caution with balancing them out, and the downsides just don’t seem worth it: get a major bug, lose access to Soul Unison, and PERMANENTLY lose HP??  No single fight justifies all that, let alone a single attack.  Still, I do want to try a Dark run someday just to get firsthand experience with the mechanic…though it’ll probably be in BN5.  Anyway, Soul Unison!  Or Double Soul.  Whichever.  Love it!  Short-lived but big impact transformations based on familiar Navis, really hearkens back to MegaMan’s “Now I’VE got your power!” roots in a unique way!  Where did it come from?  Who knows! (Nobody.  Nobody knows.) Yeah, much as I love Soul Unison, I wish there was some kind of attempt at explaining where it came from, especially for so radical a shift from Style Change, which was already fleshed out and well-liked.  They vary a bit, but some of them are really cool and fun to use, and six is a generous amount of forms to have easy access to…when you eventually get there.  But, uh…let’s see, I talked about Patch Cards earlier, I haven’t tried Operation Battle or Free Tournament…eh, alright.  Let’s really get into it.

Now I love tournaments.  The N1 Grand Prix was great!  But a game structured around 3 tournaments…is a bit much.  It can get very tiring, not helped by the fact that it feels weirdly difficult to get your hands on decent chips.  Maybe to encourage use of your Souls’ chip-charging abilities?  And it tends to feel very disconnected from the “overarching” plot where you fight ShadeMan twice and then have to stop a meteor.  Still, it’s not too big of a chore to fight your way to Duo (who looks WAY cooler than his Classic counterpart, don’t @ me).  But apparently I’m not the only one who really struggled with Duo.  Well, I rarely even made it past Dark Soul tbh.  The point is, things take a turn, you realize you only have half your Soul Unisons, and you see “Start game 2”, and BAM: mandatory new game+!  Where everything has more HP and you realize the tournaments are completely randomized.  Then you get the rug pulled out from under you again when you realize you have to do new game++ just to get that last damn Soul…I’m so glad I knew about this ahead of time.  There’s enough despair in remembering that there are separate achievements for getting all Souls in each version.  Like…why?  Why, when they were making the collection, did they decide this was the game they wanted to require you to play so much more of?  Meh, I shouldn’t complain so much, I already wanted to try out all the Souls, it’s just that feeling like I HAVE to do it kinda…oh, nevermind.  The real problem isn’t even that, it’s that so many of the random scenarios are samey and/or some variety of frustrating.  You have to run through ACDC Area and usually also Town Area for every scenario in the first tournament, and then you have to run through Park Area for every scenario in the second tournament.  There’s a bit more variety in the third since they open the world map, and I do like that they tried again to fill out the world, but there are high odds of the player being checked out by that point.  And the mini-games, my gosh, the mini-games…some aren’t so bad.  But a lot of them are.  Everyone has their own most hated tournament scenario (mine is KendoMan) and it’s in large part due to awful, awful minigames (stop eating mY INPUTS).  It just…the frustration compounds upon itself the more you play, and so very few of the stories you get feel at all worth it.  I don’t want to feel this way about BN4.  I’m honestly trying to be fair.  Everyone always just dunks on BN4 and the last thing I want is to be a part of that.  But it’s such a frustrating experience, man.  Somehow I just keep ending up venting.  Oi.

Ah, what else…Regal is kinda nothing in this game, but I like him in BN5 and having the new villain be Wily’s son is interesting.  Also I appreciate the effort to change up the names of the evil organizations: WWW is…whatever that is, Gospel is a NetMafia, and Nebula is the Dark Chip Syndicate.  That’s a neat little detail I like.  I’m also really into the concept of Dark Souls, I think doppelgangers are the shit, the Sonic OC comic I made in my teens had Dark Souls as a recurring plot device because I like it so much.  Uh, having a new method of traversal in the C-Slider is an interesting idea to try out, and it is kinda fun to ride.  I wouldn’t even mind the hunt to put it together if it didn’t reset every cycle.  Oh, and this is where the Boktai crossovers start!  My experience with Boktai is still virtually entirely second-hand through BN and SF, but I dunno, I’ve always really liked the crossovers, I just think it’s cool that they happened.  BN4 starts a bit light with just the Gun del Sol chips and Django and Otenko giving you a fetch quest that ultimately nets you the Nebula Code, plus the attraction in Castillo, but it’s still really cool.  And it leads to even cooler things later!  BN4 really is the BN1 of a new trilogy: it’s foundational, and rough around the edges, but there is still value in seeing it for yourself.  Just, y’know…settle in.  Pace yourself.  I’m gonna move on now.

Okay, BN5!  This is another one I have a lot of nostalgia for, I should probably clarify that right up front.  It’s a divisive game, and I understand why, and I would NOT recommend this as someone’s first Battle Network.  But no matter what, it’s special to me.  Not to say I don’t think it has genuine merit, of course.  Let’s just start with the elephant in the room: Liberation Missions.  Boy can they be tough.  Making an alternate game mode required to progress is always going to rub players the wrong way, I get it.  But it’s kinda difficult to actually outright lose one, really.  Also I like being able to control so many different Navis, and having the structure of recruit, liberate, repeat allows for version exclusive content to be front and center without compromising the entire game’s structure (like BN4’s tournaments do).  It’s a very unique way to try something new with the battle system, and honestly, I think in part it seeks the same thing BN3’s Time Trials did. (I didn’t talk about them before because I still haven’t done them shut up) Battle Network has always considered quick and efficient deletion a key component of mastery—that’s why how long a battle takes is such a big part of your busting level.  Time Trials dial that up a bit with further restrictions: a (soft) time limit and a pre-constructed folder.  Similarly, Liberation Missions encourage quick and efficient deletions with a (hard) time limit, clearing multiple panels if you can win in a single turn, and requiring you to be familiar with several Navis in combat as well as keeping them all well-positioned on the overworld.  Considering this is the fifth game in the series, it makes sense to aim more for experienced players who know their way around a NetBattle and are looking for fresh challenges.  It’s for this same reason I don’t recommend it for newcomers, and for this same reason that kids playing this game would find Liberation Missions particularly vexing.  Of course, in the Legacy Collection, Buster MAX does work with every Navi you control…

Well anyway.  BN5 builds upon BN4’s foundation much the same way BN2 builds upon BN1’s.  Dr. Regal and Nebula are brought back, now as a far more present and serious threat that actually manages to occupy the entire internet within the first hour of gameplay.  Dark Chips are overhauled, now collectible as any other chip and needing to be deliberately put in your folder.  Soul Unison undergoes some minor tweaks, the most significant being that their charge shots now scale with MegaMan’s attack level.  Chaos Unison is also introduced, a way to both get one more turn of access to a Soul’s abilities AND use Dark Chips with relative safety!  While you are still locked into first-tier viruses and chips throughout the main game, you don’t feel nearly as underpowered as in BN4, and higher tiers are unlocked during the post-game (and can be toggled!) rather than needing to replay the whole game.  Even Patch Cards are overhauled.  The Boktai crossover is also expanded, introducing the Otenko chip and giving Django a full series of Navi Chips, as well as introducing Crossover Battle…though, that’s not in the Legacy Collection, unfortunately.  You do get Crossover Points from ranked battles, though, so you can still use the Boktai Trader.  Also…well, first of all.  BN5 actually has another secret transformation system…Cross MegaMan!  Not to be confused with the Cross System from BN6. (You will confuse them.  It is confusing.) There’s a Patch Card that you can use to overwrite MegaMan’s standard form, not unlike Style Change…except this one imbues him with the power of another Navi we know far too well.  That’s right…Bass Cross MegaMan!!  There are actually two slightly different versions of Bass Cross depending on which version of BN5 you’re playing, but they’re both exceptionally powerful and permanent unless you deliberately turn them off. (You can still use Soul Unison, though.) Of course, Patch Cards didn’t make it overseas, so this legendary form was Japan-exclusive…at first.  But that changed when BN5 got an enhanced port on the DS!  If, while playing BN5DS, you had in the DS’s GBA slot a copy of BN5 in which you had earned the Bass icon on the title screen, you unlocked the ability to play as Bass Cross MegaMan!  But the DS version didn’t stop there…it added one more Cross MegaMan form.  A form unlocked by inserting a Boktai game into the GBA slot…a form imbued with the power of the sun!  Sol Cross MegaMan!!  Yes, it was truly an astounding form…but it’s not in the Legacy Collection.  So.  That sucks. (On a related note BN5 also featured a crossover with Duel Masters in the form of a Giga Chip featuring a monster from that series.  Y’know, for completion’s sake.)

It really is too bad that the features from BN5DS didn’t make it into the collection, though I can understand the desire to preserve the original experience of the GBA games.  Come to think of it, the collection also doesn’t include the various things related to the Battle Chip Gates released alongside the second trilogy…that might be more difficult, though Star Force DX found a way to incorporate the Wave Scanner functionality…eh, not a big deal.  Point is, the GBA games are still plenty complete. (Though this is the only entry to not include Mr. Match, and that is unforgivable.) BN5 stands out as a very unique entry in the series, and I hope to see opinions on it improve over time.  Just, be sure to get some experience with one or two other games in the series before giving this one a try.

Finally, we have Battle Network 6.  As BN4 was foundational like BN1, and as BN5 built upward like BN2, BN6 is the culmination of all the work that came before just like BN3.  Even before the collection came around, there was already a dedicated community of players who found a way to battle online using this game, because the BN formula is so well-refined in this entry that they refused to give it up.  Chip restrictions are reworked to a more case-by-case basis, facilitating the demotion of all non-Navi Mega Chips to Standard class—Megas are exclusively summons, and this persists all the way through Star Force.  The game has two separate but compatible transformation systems: Beast Out and the Cross System (not to be confused with Cross MegaMan).  Crosses are the evolution of Souls, giving MegaMan access to another Navi’s powers, but are far more accessible this time around.  Souls required the sacrifice of a compatible chip and lasted only 3 turns, but Crosses can be activated at any time from the Custom Screen, and last indefinitely unless you pick another or are hit by your elemental weakness and knocked out of the form.  These are kinda busted!  I love them!  Beast Out, meanwhile, lets MegaMan control the tremendous power of the Cybeasts the game’s plot centers around, powering him up quite a bit but only lasting 3 turns.  After the form expires, you can try to activate it again if you really want to, but doing so will trigger Beast Over, rendering MegaMan invincible but sending him out of control until the custom gauge fills and the form fades away; if your enemy survived, MegaMan is left crippled, leaving you in an even worse situation than where you began.  The Beast Outs are a lot of fun to use, though the way they move to auto-aim chip attacks can at times put them right in the line of fire.  Personally I’m a huge fan of Beast Over, too, though it’s quite rare I find myself in conditions where it seems worth the risks.  But I have used it, unlike Dark Chips (which are no longer a thing), so I’m inclined to say it’s better balanced.  There’s also one more variation: Beast Cross, performed by either being in Beast Out and activating a Cross, or being in a Cross and Beasting Out.  Each Beast Cross mixes the Cross’s aesthetics with those of your version’s Cybeast, resulting in a variety of really cool designs, and you have access to the abilities of both forms plus a unique attack that replaces Beast Out’s chip-charge claw slash.  If you’re hit by the Cross’s weakness, you revert to normal Beast Out, and if Beast Out’s turn limit runs out, you lose both forms, so you need to be careful not to use up all your options too quickly.  Being able to combine forms like this is really cool, and only serves to deepen this game’s already robust form system; I’m fairly confident in saying that I like it even more than Double Soul, though it’s difficult to compare to Style Change so I can’t yet name an overall favorite.

Something interesting about Crosses is that, after you get your first Cross and the associated tutorial, the other four are completely optional.  In BN6, you gain access to version-exclusive content as you progress through the plot, but that content is entirely removed from the plot (save which Cybeast MegaMan obtains, but that’s a minor enough change that the cutscenes always play out the same).  This gives the plot room to breathe, and allows for the version-exclusive Navis to each have their own unique scenarios tailored to their own theming as opposed to sharing “one-size fits all” scenarios in BN5.  After doing these scenarios, you not only get a new Cross, but you gain that Navi as a Link Navi, meaning you can operate them while exploring the net any time you want!  Having the world open up to your other playable Navis is very freeing, and you’re encouraged to use them through various overworld obstacles that can be cleared with certain Navis’ abilities, though you’re only required to use them during a few parts in the plot where Lan temporarily loses MegaMan.  This is all described as a function of BN6’s new PET model, and I appreciate that there’s something to go off of instead of leaving us scratching our heads like Soul Unison did.  I really appreciate the benefits of this approach, though there is a part of me that wants to give BN5 credit for incorporating version-exclusive Navis into the plot more.

There’s a handful of other mechanical changes.  Side-quests from BN2 and 3 were brought back, though I find their implementation here to be a notable step back (the short version is that Request Points are superfluously restrictive).  The Navi Customizer here is another contender for its best iteration, now giving you a little extra space off the visible grid to better cram more programs into it.  Doing so does cause bugs, but BugStop is very easy to get if you know how, rendering it a moot point and letting focus be on the enhanced freedom of customization.  I also think it’s neat how the internet is designed so that you can access (nearly) every region of it from Central Area 3.  It’s easy to overlook given that Lan can just go to different towns and jack-in from there, but this makes getting around with Link Navis far easier.  Combined with the unlockable links on Lan’s homepage all leading to different regions, the net has never been easier to navigate.  The Boktai crossover is also back, now adding a series of Navi Chips for the Count of Groundsoaking Blood—obtained through a boss battle with the guy!  Of course, the original English release of BN6 cut virtually all of this, even the post-game area and sidequest, which always stung.  Many have said this was due to Boktai’s poor sales overseas, though more recently the developers have laid the blame on limited cartridge space; I do believe the devs, but it also makes sense that when choosing what content to cut during localization, the Boktai content was first in line.  Thankfully, the Legacy Collection is based on the Japanese builds of the games, so all Boktai content is retained and officially translated into English for the first time! (Except for Crossover Battle, of course…also there’s a weird bug regarding Django3, check some guides if you want to complete your Mega Chip library.) I suppose this would also be the time to talk about the successor to the Virus Breeder, the Virus Battler.  After buying a certain item, “rare” variants of viruses will begin to appear, and after defeating them, their data is stored for use in Virus Battles.  Virus Battles are a gauntlet of fights where you select and place the viruses you’ve gathered onto a battlefield in place of MegaMan, and then let them fight the enemy viruses to see who comes out on top.  Again, the inspiration from the Virus Breeder is clear, but the execution is very distinct.  It’s certainly a novel concept, but when I tried to complete them, that novelty quickly wore thin.  You don’t actually control the viruses, they operate on the same AI they use as enemies, which involves a degree of randomness.  What’s worse, these battles are timed.  I found these incredibly frustrating, and for a good while they were the only thing keeping me from finishing the post-game.  At this point the only thing I still like about the Virus Battler is that the final one ends with a fight against BlastMan, proving that he’s so weak that even generic viruses can kick his ass.  I like that.

From what I’ve seen, BN6’s story isn’t regarded quite as highly as BN3’s, but is still generally well-liked.  I enjoy it a good deal, but I think the fact that the whole second trilogy is so cut off from the first unfairly handicaps it.  BN6 is very self-contained, which on the positive side means that you can readily recommend this as someone’s starting point despite it being the final game in the series.  Unfortunately this has a negative impact on its ability to function as a finale, though I will say it does a surprisingly good job of that regardless.  The game starts with Lan and his family leaving ACDC Town, which they’ve lived in since the very beginning, and moving to Central Town in Cyber City.  As a direct result, there are virtually 0 returning characters on-screen for 90% of the game, which is a hard pill to swallow and puts a lot of extra pressure on the new characters and locations.  And it’s not all bad: I really like the way Cyber City and its various towns are structured, each focusing on a different aspect of “next-gen net society” to create a varied yet cohesive whole.  I also appreciate that the villainous operators, annoying as they may be, interact with each other FAR more than in any previous game, having their own group dynamic which actually informs some plot developments later on.  However, the main sticking point for most people comes in the new friend group that forms around Lan at his new school.  The game itself on more than one occasion refers to Mick as the new Dex, and while I can somewhat see the influence, the comparison does feel a bit forced.  Mick certainly has some potential as a character and has a couple of really good moments, but he has to shoulder an unfair amount of emotional weight due to the reduced cast and I just don’t find him up to the task.  Hell, they never even gave his Navi a name.  I’ve never seen a “major character” with bigger NPC vibes.  There’s also Tab, who runs this game’s chip shop.  I literally cannot think of another thing to say about him, because he gets so little focus.  I guess Iris counts, but she only interacts with anyone other than Lan right near the end of the game, and is tied into the game’s plot in a way that sets her apart.  In any event, I like Iris well enough.  She’s sufficiently mysterious to hold the player’s attention, and she gets a bit of character development before the game’s over.  She certainly feels more important than her X series counterpart!  Dex, Maylu, and Yai do all make a return at the end of the game, and that is nice, but man, the entire second trilogy spends so much time putting these characters off-screen or just acting like they don’t exist.  At least BN4 gave battles and Souls to two of their three Navis!  This may be the biggest contributor to making the two trilogies feel disconnected, and it’s a real bummer.

There are some connections, though, and some very interesting ones.  Probably the oddest-looking choice is that the Cybeasts are multibug organisms just like Gospel from BN2—it’s not a problem by any means, it’s just surprising to see the concept suddenly come back, especially since bugs were more or less supplanted by Dark Power during the Nebula duology.  It is kind of nice, though, and others have pointed out that it helps explain why SciLab had some knowledge of multibug organisms in BN2.  One connection I really like is how BN6 ties back into MegaMan’s origin, with the program that allowed Hub’s DNA to be encoded being not only part of why Dr. Hikari was tapped to help out in Central Town, but also the reason MegaMan is able to contain the Cybeast.  And of course, Baryl and Colonel’s involvement is a major plot point, as is the return of Dr. Wily.  Surprisingly, all three of them are fleshed out rather well!  Like I said with Iris, this Colonel is far more interesting than the one in X, and even with BN5 setting up for it I was shocked to see what they were able to do with Wily.  The decision to give him a redemption of some kind is…something to think about, for sure.  But again, the way he’s presented specifically in this game really lends itself to that.  At first glance it can seem like Lan is stupid to offer Wily a chance to reform, but when I got to it in this playthrough, it struck me that Lan was not at all eager in making this offer.  I don’t have the script in front of me right now, but I remember him sounding a bit hesitant, like he was forcing himself to do it out of a sense of principle and not just shrugging off everything the mad doctor’s done over the past six games.  Maybe I’m reading something that isn’t there, I don’t know.  But if it is there, then honestly, it’s enough for me to get behind this development.  I’ve said this before, but one of BN’s most recurring controversial writing choices being how easily some villains are forgiven is almost certainly a facet of the series’ theme of connecting with other people; even if it is a flaw, I think it’s a necessary one.  Morality and redemption are complicated topics, ones I’m not even entirely sure about myself.  If nothing else, these games commit to their stance.

BN3 is peak Battle Network, but so is BN6—for different reasons.  Even with so much working against it, the game still provides a satisfying end to the series, especially with that epilogue.  It’s nice to have a Mega Man series that ends on an ending rather than a cliffhanger!  I’ve always been against the idea of a Battle Network 7, but y’know…after reconnecting with the series like this, after seeing how well the collection is doing and how much passion went into it, after hearing someone propose the next game being more of a spin-off starring Patch…I’ve changed my mind.  I do think the Patch spin-off would be the best way to approach it (and I really, really hope they rename MegaMan Jr, I don’t know what it is but I hate that), but even if we do get a BN7 that adds a new chapter to Lan and MegaMan’s story, I’ll be super-excited about it.  BN7 or not, though, I’m glad we got this series and this collection.  It doesn’t matter if I never try the online features, or if Battle Network remains a closed book, because I got to experience it, and this new outpouring of love for it proves that it’s an experience so many others have shared.  What happens or doesn’t happen next can’t change any of that.  No matter what…we’re always connected.

[fideidefenswhore]

I find it so strange how people, Chapuys, Alison Weir, Jane stans, want to stress how Jane was devoted to Mary. Just a general goodwill I could get, but they treat it like some cult worship obsession thing. It's like Jane isn't much there in the sources. so they focus on this to give her a character. But making her out to be some mary stan isn't a personality. And are we expected to believe Jane would prioritize Mary over any daughters she would've had, like putting mary in the succession before her own kids? It just doesn't add up.

It connects to the reverence she's always assumed to have for her not-immediate predecessor, which is always... odd to me because it's not mentioned in contemporary sources anywhere. Chapuys doesn't claim she revered Catherine, just that she served her.

On either side of things, the circumstances of her rise are not flattering. True, you could say this about her immediate predecessor, too, but I see 'if you like one it's hypocritical not to like the other' most often from those that hate Anne and revere her successor and predecessor. Rules for thee but not for me nonsense as per.

If we don't afford her the benefit of the doubt, again, the picture is not flattering. Anne knew of her by Feb 1536 at the latest (that is when she first mentions her); but it's likely she knew of the courtship even before that, meaning it began before that, possibly around December 1535. Where does that place Jane accordingly? By the standards of Aragonese faction, it would mean it's likely she was entertaining courtship from Henry while his wife was dying (this was not a moral dilemma for them, much like the Imperial mistress of 1534 wasn't, so long as these women were advancing the cause they supported). By the standards of the Boleyn faction, February 1536 onwards is Jane entertaining Henry's courtship while his wife is recovering from miscarriage. And we know the rest that Jane accepted as admission to the throne.

Maybe her (limited) support of Mary was situational or circumstantial, almost entirely? Examining the sequence of events and Chapuys' reports, it's hard to see any other conclusion. We begin with him asserting that her new stepmother is her Godsend and that Mary will finally take pride of place as heiress at court, yet weeks later she is excluded from the succession in Parliament, five months later we have his report that her arrival at court has been delayed until Jane's coronation. In context, the claim Mary was 'served with more ceremony than ever before' cannot be read as much more than a desperate attempt to save face.

The rest is counterfactual, but why would Jane promote Mary's interests over her own child/ren? Earlier reports can only be read as such if you believe Jane was pregnant was at the time (May 1536, and 'even before the concubine's arrest' as Chapuys said), but I don't believe she was. Jane didn't know she would have children by Henry and might have been less confident of that than Anne, having firsthand experience of all the reproductive tragedies of decades, two of her predecessors, not just one. If Chapuys is to be believed, her attempt to reinstate her stepdaughter as heir can be read as an attempt to bolster support for her own status as Queen, and the support of Mary if Jane did have a son that would displace her in the succession, or perhaps even a daughter that came behind her. Once Henry (again, taking Chapuys at face value) 'corrected' her, she seemed adaptable enough (that she didn't write to Mary until after she had capitulated to her father's demands is instructive...).

Even if the primary sources are limited to Chapuys, as far as recording actual affinity, he spoke more glowingly of Parr as Mary's stepmother than Jane, in the wash. Yet pop history seems to live in that space of Chapuys' promises of the future that wasn't fulfilled as if it materialized. What is read as proof of their mutual affection, Mary serving as chief mourner, was yet another symbol of her diminished status, reifying that Mary was no longer royal and barred from the succesion (royals in the succession had noblemen/women serve as their replacements in funerals). Chapuys did not protest this is as vehemently as he did the funeral of Catherine because the battle had already been lost.

[sunnyworldwidelogistics]

Fitema's Sanitary Ware Shipment to Saudi Arabia – Choosing the Right Freight Forwarder China to Saudi Arabia: 3 Key Points

Fitema's Sanitary Ware Shipment to Saudi Arabia – Choosing the Right Freight Forwarder China to Saudi Arabia: 3 Key Points

Once, we helped Fitema ship a batch of sanitary ware to Yanbu Port in Saudi Arabia. However, after the shipment arrived, we couldn’t reach the client. Even calls to their office went unanswered. With storage fees at the port climbing to $300 per day, we were just as worried as our client would have been.

Having worked as a freight forwarder China to Saudi Arabia for many years, we’ve seen all kinds of unexpected issues. Since Fitema is a small company, we assumed they must have had an emergency. This was a critical moment for us to demonstrate our professionalism. I immediately reached out to our local agent and arranged to transfer the containers to their warehouse to save the customer from extra fees. Later, we found out that Fitema’s family member had been hospitalized, and the client had put everything on hold to care for them.

This experience highlights the importance of choosing the right freight forwarder China to Saudi Arabia. When things go smoothly, everything’s fine, but when unexpected challenges arise, the way logistics companies respond makes all the difference. So how do you know if a freight forwarder is reliable? Here are three key points:

 1. How Long the Company Has Been Operating

The longer a logistics company has been in business, the more trustworthy it tends to be. Experience brings reliability. In Shenzhen alone, there are about 60,000 logistics companies, but 90% of them don’t survive beyond 3-4 years. Some lure clients with cheap rates, collect payments, and disappear.  

Sunny Worldwide Logistics, for instance, was founded in 1998 and has been running for 26 years. Through honest operations, we’ve established ourselves with a reputation for excellence. We own 1,800 square meters of premium office space in Shenzhen—a rare achievement in our industry. A visit to our office would show you firsthand what a reliable logistics company looks like.  

 2. Company Size and Employee Count

Many unreliable freight forwarders operate with just a few staff in small offices, struggling to answer even basic inquiries about their capacity. In contrast, our team at Sunny Worldwide Logistics has grown to nearly 100 employees over two decades. There are few logistics companies in Shenzhen with such scale, which shows we have the strength and resources to manage any challenge.

 3. Track Record of Working with Large Companies

Big companies are very selective when choosing logistics partners. Their due diligence includes on-site inspections, documentation reviews, and strict approval processes. So, if a logistics company has a history of working with industry giants, it’s a sign of their capability.  

For instance, we at Sunny Worldwide Logistics have long-term relationships with companies like Walmart, Costco, Huawei, and more than 100 other major corporations. These partnerships, spanning over a decade, prove that we meet the highest standards.

If you want to learn more about our work, check out my personal diary, where I share stories from the world of international logistics and the meaningful moments we’ve shared with our clients. Feel free to reach out anytime if you need assistance!

[amidnightqueery]

CW for talk about rape and rape culture under the cut.

It's been a few days since now, but my response to a post made in reply of an offhand tag of mine hasn't been addressed, so I'm going to make this post without any reference to who the other party may be. It's not that I'm pissed, just a tiny bit ticked off because it's playing against my need for justice and pedantry.

Speaking without hyperbole, I do not make assertions that I cannot back up, and I do not say things purely to stir up controversy or opportunistically attack groups of people. I don't often make posts about my opinions of the world and society because I hate being misinterpreted and have a fear of spreading misinformation, even when I am educated on the matter. I also don't have the time or the spoons to argue my point against people who dont seek to understand and just want to bicker, and know from being online for almost two decades (and being an activist for one) that arguing with bigots is always circular and devolves into strawmen and ad hominems. It's a waste of my time, so I have become far less opinionated over the years, preferring instead to boost others' ideas in a way of showing my support as well as indicating where I stand.

When I made a hastily typed (and admittedly rather vague) tag about rad*fem (RF) contribution to rape culture, that was no different. It was not attacking RF to pander, and I didn't in any way deny the foundations of rape culture; it was coming from a person who could have reasonably been called a RF (at least a baby one) in my mid 20s. I used to be in the thick of the SW*ERF culture that propagated the already existing patriarchal concept that women attract their attackers. I was in that ki*nk critical space that vilified sexual desire and consensual sexual acts between adults. I was surrounded by people who likened those same sex acts to rape, who believed womanhood should remain pure and as untouched by men as possible – which is really just purity culture repackaged to sound "empowering" and "protecting women".

To summarise my thinking behind the tag: A pretty significant RF belief (that I am still unpacking as a rape survivor as well) is that men are biologically geared to be violent, meaning their sexual desires are violent (even if not acted upon), therefore if a woman "purposely" (and I use that term loosely, because people will put any judgement on a woman's actions they want) triggers a man's sexual desires, it's her fault for playing with fire. She "got what she had coming to her". She "should have known better". Greater consideration and condemnation is put to these hypothetical choices a woman makes and a man's desire as a response to them, rather than one person's entitlement and desire for power and control over another person.

Furthermore, I have firsthand knowledge of RF being a mean girl clique, kept afloat by their need to bully people and not actually do anything of note beyond going viral for highly generalised or bigoted clapbacks, hiding behind a shroud of self-appointed virtue. That is unfortunately the state of modern (white, ergo mainstream) feminism, though my observations of how RF has seeped into the operation of mainstream feminism would require a whole other post that I probably won't make. This post, however, is to explain my reasoning and experience behind a tag I wrote that ended with me being berated, spoken down to, and told to go educate myself on rape culture. It was a simple misunderstanding, but with the reply post to my tag still public and my clarifying message ignored, I had to make this post to pull the buzzy annoyance out of my head.

[ofspvrta]

The last few decades or so had been so surreal. Technological advances, the revelation of aliens (though she had suspicions there was more to life than just Earth), and mankind wielding technology they shouldn't have just yet. All of it just pointed to something bigger going on. Were these catalysts for the staff to pass to the Heir? The end of her age approaches and she knows she won't see how this ends. That's what makes all of this harder to deal with. All of this so sudden and she's only now finding she's not alone in this, when her foretold death looms shortly.

This wasn't how she wanted any of this to go. She didn't come here to mope and get angry, she's had over two thousand years to deal with these emotions and yet sometimes they still scream from her like she was still in her youth. How could she ever truly forget her anger? And yet, Diana, this Wonder Woman, is infinitely patient with the immortal. Like a forgotten sister. In a way is that not what she is? She's not an Amazon, but the Amazons were Isu and she is of Isu blood. The most potent hybrid blood that remains. She glances around the office, truly taking the time to look at it now. It's beautifully decorated with parts of it feeling like home. Her original home. Sometimes she misses those days, the simplicity of it, even if it was never truly simple. She misses Phoibe, misses Barnabas, and Herodotus. She misses Roxana. And Myrrine and hells, even her brother. She never belonged here.

"I've heard they can be popular on college campuses. I preferred a chiton myself. Togas were more effort than they were worth." She falls silent again, pondering the seat before her and if she even felt like sitting at all. She's restless and has so many questions. The friend comment catches her attention. "I... I would like that. I want to know so much about the Amazons. I've seen Elysium and the Underworld and Atlantis, in simulations... I lived them... but I want to experience some of the Isu world firsthand. Where anything I touch I'm actually touching it. If that is allowed, I know that even with my Isu blood, I'm probably an outsider to the rest of your people." Kassandra laughs then, "Oh, you missed so much shit before then. When the first war struck, I was in London helping to stop those who would use Isu artifacts for selfish gain. I don't suppose you've encountered the Templars yet, or Abstergo?"

The only thing is because of things like The Amazons keeping to themselves for thousands of years, Superman being an only Kryptonian, all of the isu-like technology of Batman -- this world will never be theirs. Not even as heroes. No matter what they do. They will be forever seen as foreigners and one wrong step will have man trying to kill them. Like it has been, again, and again. This time the Amazons can't just hide Themyscira again. It'll be found. The art of war and their strangeness has to unite with humanity.

There is a care and a certain sadness that doesn't waiver in Diana's blue eyes, regarding Kassandra's face with a care that is akin to a lost friend and a beloved battle partner. She does turn after a minute or so, mostly to give Kassandra some space, but also to be more polite. They were just standing in the center of the office. The desk in the center facing the door, couches and chairs facing the rather large window with the skyscrapers in the distance [ but a small garden in the forefront ... that is also definitely remnants of greek architecture and sculptures around fine trimmed hedges and pretty trees ] . Book cases in other places, filled both with modern books, some she collected from her stint in the world wars, some leftover from Themyscira. Trophies in the form of various weapons hung up on plaques. She'll never use a gun, or another sword. Enemies and friends alike fought hard with those, still.

Diana pulls the chair with the large back away from the desk and spins it to face Kassandra. Furniture is available to use.

" A toga is not socially accepted in the United States especially as a person would think. If you would like a seat, you may sit. If you would like to make yourself at home, you may also do that. I would personally prefer you to do so, as a guest and friend, I would like your company. There are Amazons, mostly younger ones, that leave Themyscira and visit me to see some of the world and understand. My Queen as told me another should be here early tomorrow, if that interests you. As for your question, the answer is yes. I have only been away from Themyscira for eighty-one years now. The isu-human war nearly left the Amazons for ruins too, we stayed away until men found us again in nineteen fourty two. "

[bigskydreaming]

Okay but imagine a Freaky Friday scenario back when Bruce and Dick were originally on the outs and Dick was with the Titans full time.

Something incredibly plot contrived happens and whammo, eighteen year old Dick wakes up in Bruce’s body with Jason just down the hall....still new to the Manor, filled to the brim with trust issues and other shit Dick can relate to and brings back memories of his early days in the Manor and how hard Bruce worked to make Dick feel comfortable there, thus priming Dick with Nostalgia thoughts and like, I miss THAT guy, where did that version of my dad go and is he still in there....

And additionally, when further contrived plot contrivances conspire with dastardly deeds that force Bruce and Dick to stay in each other’s bodies for like a week or two until they can change back, and like, cosplay as each other because they both have responsibilities that can’t be avoided....like, Dick is forced to temporarily act as Jason’s guardian and like.....there’s character development and personal realizations and building a connection based on common ground and shared experiences even if they aren’t perfectly parallel, much like Bruce built his connection with Dick based on the common ground that was the murder of their parents, and like.....opportunities for all the above are just ripe for the picking.

And meanwhile, Bruce wakes up in Dick’s body and is like.....wut. But being Bruce and having developed eighty million contingency plans even for off the wall hypothetical scenarios, he like, has a plan in case something like this ever happened.....and then he’s smacked in the face with the realization that coming up with an idea on how to deal with a situation you have no actual knowledge of or experience with is not like....a sturdy basis for assuming your approach will be any kind of effective at all. And so Bruce is forced to consult ACTUAL experts with this kind of shit, like Zatanna and Constantine and Dick’s own teammates Raven and Lilith, and grumpily acknowledges that the safest thing for them both is to wait this out and go about each other’s lives as much as possible, like Alfred and Jason and the Titans and the JLA are all in the know, its just....weird. 

And Bruce is uncomfortably aware that he’s surrounded by people who know Dick even better than him at this point, and who are not his biggest fans as a result....and then blow-ups have him trying to defend certain choices....only to realize that when faced with people who are not emotionally invested in a connection with him which they’re afraid to lose by pushing too hard....that like heeeeey, maybe certain choices were not as good as he made himself believe at the time. With this budding epiphany then nurtured by his growing awareness that he’s been treating this whole thing as an inconvenience, like its a waste of his time to be with the Titans when there’s REAL work he could be doing - only he just can’t convince himself of that anymore after being shoved into battle alongside them and seeing them in action from WITHIN their group....rather than looking down on them from a self-assumed pedestal of experience and greater wisdom.

Like, they know what they’re doing, they’re not the kids they started out as and hell, they knew what they were doing even THEN, that’s how they GOT to this point in the first place! They were never actively guided or trained as a TEAM by the older generation of heroes, and they’ve always had an entirely different dynamic with each other than they’ve had with their own individual mentors. And by watching them in action close up, seeing how well they gel and recognizing how much of their strategy and approach to things likely came from Dick sharing his own training with them just as they shared theirs with him and gave him insights and skills that even Bruce doesn’t have because it wasn’t Bruce who taught them to him...

Like, seeing how often they instinctively glance towards Dick for direction and the implicit trust in those gazes, as well as being forced to acknowledge how competently they roll with the reminder that it isn’t Dick and they have to coordinate for themselves because Bruce is the odd man out here no matter what face he’s wearing...

It’s like. Hmm. Epiphanies. They are happening.

And then you’ve got Bruce noticing how much they look out for each other - and him/Dick in particular because of how off balance he is at this time- so he additionally gains an understanding and appreciation of how Dick’s just as safe, if not more, with the Titans as he’s ever been at Batman’s side....

And then he gets a firsthand experience with The Chafing that comes from being smothered and overprotected by people who no matter how well-meaning or concerned they are for his - or well, just his body’s maybe, lol - safety, like, they seem to have no regard for him trying to remind them of his own competency and skills and how he can look out for himself. And since refusing to see or acknowledge that is half the basis for the conflicts that get between him building at least some kind of rapport with the Titans while stuck in this situation...well...

Again. There are. Hmm. Parallels perhaps. To his own relationship with his eldest son and their frequent conflicts.

And so opportunities abound for Bruce to be reminded just how skilled and capable - and needed and appreciated - his son is....as well as how Bruce being on the receiving end of various attitudes or views he’s expressed to Dick, like, might help make him abundantly aware of just how badly that’s probably been going over with Dick, like what all that must FEEL like to Dick and how it appears when viewed from his POV, and how all of that has contributed to the growing divide between them....and thus like, this might hopefully inspire him to like...not do that anymore. Ideally.

And then the plot contrivances wear off and they get shazamed back into their normal bodies and any attempt they might have made to pretend that never happened and just get back to normal is promptly slapped down by the others in their lives, who are just like, lol, no. We’re not doing that. This was weird, it happened, it was a whole thing, deal with it.

Forcing them to, y’know, deal with it. Helped along by some of Bruce’s Intimidation Quotient, such as it ever was, having worn off the Titans during his stay among them, so he starts getting bombarded with texts, calls, and speedster drop-ins like hey, didja adopt your son yet, Bats? How about talk to him. Did you do that at least? Did the word sorry come up at all? C’mon, we PRACTICED this.

Whereas Dick’s walk down Memory Lane via his time spent strolling through the halls he grew up in but from the POV of retracing Bruce’s decade old footsteps rather than his own - well, that did a lot to lower the drawbridge on the emotional barriers he’s built up to protect himself from further let-downs when it comes to his relationship with Bruce....helping to make him more amenable and receptive and optimistic about it being worth getting his hopes up one more time that the space between them can still be bridged.

Anyway. Just a random scenario I guess. Barely thought about it at all. 

[firstdegreefangirl]

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” i would love this prompt for Chenford!

Love your writing!!!

Anon, you KILLED me with this one. I had no idea what I wanted to do with it, then a tiny inkling of an idea, then I wrote close to 1600 words in one sitting. Even though I try to keep prompt fills under or around 1k, it is what it is, and I like this so much that I’m not going to make myself pare it down. So thanks for the ask, and enjoy!

Oh, and spoilers for 3.09, if you haven’t at least seen the Facebook promo that got me to watch the full clip even though I still haven’t seen the whole episode. I’m working on it, I swear.

---

“Look me in the face and tell me you don’t think I have the killer instinct to do undercover work.”

It had taken longer than Tim cared to admit before he could school his features enough to meet Lucy’s eyeline and sneer at her. Even then, it had only lasted a second before he couldn’t stand to look at her any longer.  

An entire year they’ve spent together, Tim testing his rookie at every step of the way.

Not once had he imagined that she’d have the audacity to test him back. And today, of all days.  

And like this.  

He’s got to ignore it. He has to make it at least through the end of the shift without constantly thinking about how she’d laughed mere moments after saying she had feelings for him.

It’s not weird. He’d been honest when he told her that.  

And I appreciate your honesty.

It’s not weird. It’s so much worse.

Because for the rest of the shift, every time he catches sight of Lucy, Tim’s stomach starts to churn. Every time he hears her voice, his heart beats double-time in his chest. Every time the light fragrance of her perfume wafts across the shop into his nose, he wants to go buy a dozen of those stupid cardboard trees and duct tape them to every air vent.  

Because every time he so much as thinks about Lucy, he thinks about what he’d almost said to her, before she’s started laughing at him.  

And he still has to turn in her final evaluation, so he’s thinking about her a lot.

He’s thinking about the last year of their lives, all the ways she’s grown into her career, all the ways she’s grown on him.

And he’s thinking about how for just a second, the barest breath of an instant, the world had stopped turning around him this morning.

I have feelings for you.  

He hadn’t known what to say to that, how to respond without losing one or both of their jobs. And then she had suggested that he might have feelings for her too, had come way too close to the only card in his hand Tim had known he could never show.  

Had he been showing it this whole time?

But she’d started laughing, and the whole thing had been a ruse. Lucy had been fucking with him, and it had worked, and now he can’t shake the way the nausea burns in his stomach. He hardly eats his lunch, even though they both know how much he loves the food truck, blames it on a big breakfast and anxiety about the AMBER Alert.

And somehow, by nothing short of a miracle, he survives the shift. Baby Young is reunited with her parents, Lucy gets promoted to P2, and Tim handles it all without passing out, throwing up, or punching any walls.  

All in all, it’s a good day.

But it’s over before he knows it. Before he’s ready, he’s standing in the parking garage, holding a box and sporting a face full of white powder.  

She got him again, and he can’t even bring himself to be upset about it.  

“It’s been a blast, sir,” she says, laughing again. He loves the sound, even though it feels like a knife in his gut as he thinks again about earlier.

“It has,” he says, then surprises himself. “I can … buy you a drink? Now that you’re not a rookie anymore, there are some things we need to talk about.”

He tries to make it sound like he’s getting ready to give her more career advice, the kinds of firsthand accounts that aren’t relevant until she’s cleared the academy. And he’s got those too, decades of stories about truly helping people who need it and rules bent for the right reasons.  

But that’s not what he’s going to say, and he knows it. He feels it deep in his gut as he leads the way across town, sitting right next to the lingering panic from the morning as he watches Lucy’s headlights behind him.

Then they’re sitting across from each other, crammed into a tiny booth, knees knocking together under the table, no matter how many times they try to rearrange themselves. He waves a bartender over, asks for a pitcher of whatever domestic is on tap, and two glasses.  

Neither of them say anything until the drinks arrive, until they’ve each downed half a beer. But Tim knows it won’t last, so for once today, he’s not surprised when Lucy breaks the silence.

“We need to talk?” There’s hesitation in her voice, and for a moment, Tim feels a little bad. He wonders what she thinks he’s about to say, even though he knows she won’t be right.

“What you said earlier … in the shop, you know …" He’s stammering again, stumbling where he's usually brash and a little overconfident, and he hates how easy it is for Lucy to throw him off his game. She doesn’t even have to try, and she’s changing the very fundamentals of his personality. But she nods, so he soldiers on. “I don’t think you were being honest with me. Um, dishonest. Ah, at the … at first. Before you …"

Before you took away everything I’ve known the last 12 months.

“So I … wasn’t lying?” Lucy furrows her brow, trying to untangle everything Tim’s said.

“No, you were.” Tim takes a long drink, but his mouth is still dry. “When you tried to convince me that it was just a show of your undercover skills. I don’t think it was. I …" Here goes everything, Bradford. “I hope it wasn’t.”

“You — I — What?” It’s Lucy’s turn to be speechless now, and Tim can see the way her fingers tighten around her glass. “You — you hope?”

“You deserve my honesty,” Tim says simply, mirroring her words from earlier, just before she’d pulled the rug out from under him. He leans forward. “Lucy, when you said … I didn’t get a chance to respond before you switched gears. Not honestly. And the truth is … you were right. When you said I’m protective of you because I have feelings for you.”

Her eyes narrow.

“This isn’t some Revenge Tim Test, is it?”

“No, it’s not.” Tim holds his hands out on the table, palms up, a physical representation of how open he’s trying to be. “I don’t know when it started, or really even when I noticed. But you’re right, we’ve been through a lot this year, both of us. A lot of it together, but all of it as partners. And somewhere along the way, it became more than I’d bargained for.  

“In a good way,” he hurries to add. “I like it. You. I like — I like you. A lot.” Dammit, he’s stammering again. “And I think you were honest when you said you had feelings for me.” Lucy nods slowly, but makes no effort to speak, and he can’t read anything definite in the gesture. “You’re right, you’re not my rookie anymore. It might be complicated, but in my experience, the best things usually are. And I think that if there’s something here, between us … it’s worth pursuing.”  

Tim lets the rest of the air out of his lungs, drains his glass in one swallow and pours himself a refill. Lucy still hasn’t said anything, but he’s determined to let her say her piece, even if she needs a second to process everything. The longer she’s silent, the more worry builds up in his chest, but he knows he’s done the right thing. She deserves his honesty; he’d meant that when he said it.  

“Tim …" Lucy starts, then trails off. “You really thought I —” She laughs, but there’s nothing funny about it. “I really should go out for undercover work. After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t know that I love you?”  

“I know that I want you to.” It’s somehow more honest than anything else he’s said tonight, putting it all on the line. Tim sets his hand on the table again, and there are no words to express the way his chest swells when Lucy reaches forward tentatively to tuck her fingers between his. “I know that I’m crazy about you, and that maybe if we’re on the same page about that, some of this year will have been worth it.”

“Only some?” Lucy smiles, and he’s pretty sure she’s trying to flirt with him. Now that he’s letting himself look for those signals, they’re clear as day in front of him.

“Yeah, well, you really shouldn’t have had to get kidnapped for us to work this out.”  

“Fair,” She laughs, and for the first time all day, the sound doesn’t turn to molten lead in his stomach. Now he feels warm, comfortable with everything that’s hanging between them. “But however we got here, I’m just glad we made it.”

Lucy leans forward, eye flicking down to look at his mouth, and yeah, he’s picking up the signals. He squeezes her fingers, half-stands in the booth, just far enough to close the space between them and brush their lips together.

It’s a fleeting moment, the angle all wrong and Tim’s back already starting to ache from the strain. None of that matters when he sits back down, though, because he knows there are many more moments to come, just like this and even better.

“Me too, Lucy.”

[childrenofthenightt]

That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

---------

3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out.  “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream.  Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

[duhragonball]

What version of the Saiyan Tuffle War do you prefer: the Tufflew subjugated the Saiyans or the Saiyans just straight up obliterated the Tuffles

Between the two options, I think I prefer the first one, simply because all the Tuffle characters we've seen have been diabolical villains, and it sort of undermines them as bad guys if the Tuffles were innocent victims in the war. But that's just a personal preference.

I'm not suggesting that the Saiyans were all sweetness and light either. But it seems a little naive to have an advanced civilization just welcome a bunch of Saiyans onto their planet with no ulterior motives.

I say this because most of what we know about the Tuffles is based on Baby's appearances in Dragon Ball GT. Supposedly, Baby was created by the last survivors of the Tuffles, and they "infused" him with the genes of their king, whatever that means. Baby only had two objectives: to take revenge on the Saiyans, and to to convert or destroy all non-Tuffle life forms. And that's... pretty fucked up when you stop and think about it. Baby was such an over-the-top villain in GT that it was easy to just go along with whatever crazy shenanigans he was up to. But he was programmed by the Tuffles, and presumably the Tuffle King was totally on board with this. If he had lived to see Baby Vegeta ruling over the restored Tuffle Planet with the entire population of Earth infected with his nasty mind control eggs, the King would probably be pleased.

And yeah, the Tuffles would want revenge against the Saiyans, but what did Earth ever do to them? Or any of the other planets Baby menaced? You can make the argument that Baby was a doomsday weapon that went beyond the intentions of his creators, but I think he did exactly what the Tuffles wanted him to do.

And that begs the question: If Baby's reign of terror was the last gasp of the dying Tuffle species, then what sort of weird stuff were they up to before? I'll put some thoughts on this under the cut.

First off, I think it's kind of weird how there's not a clear picture of what a Tuffle is exactly. I went looking on the DB Wiki for some pictures and found this Tuffle design by Akira Toriyama.

That design prevailed in DBZ Episode 20, and also in Plan to Eradicate the Saiyans, when King Kai explains how the Tuffles welcomed the Saiyans to settle on their planet when they crashed there in a wrecked spaceship. The implication from Plan is that the Saiyans didn't just show up one day. They were refugees who needed help, and the Tuffles invited them with open arms.

But it's weird how the Tuffles in DBZ #20 are depicted as being much smaller than the Saiyans, but in Plan they're basically to scale with each other. Maybe that's a continuity glitch, and no big deal, but then you have Dr. Lychee, who looks like this:

He starts out as a regular-looking guy, and then he becomes this blue creature who looks a lot like a prototype for Baby. The blue form is supposed to be nothing more than one of the phantoms created by Hatchiyack in the OAV, like the phantom incarnations of Frieza, Turles, Cooler, and Slug. But those phantoms looked the same as the originals. Why does Lychee look so different? Is this a form that Tuffles can naturally assume?

Which brings me to Baby and his "Tuffle Parasites". By the end of his run in GT, Baby basically identified as a Tuffle, rather than a creation of the Tuffles. When he started infecting Earthlings with his eggs, he called them Tuffles too.

Then you've got Kamin and Oren from Super Dragon Ball Heroes. Apparently they're considered "Neo Machine Mutants", which are Tuffles modified become like Baby, for lack of a better explanation. I'm not sure if this was established in the DBGT days or not, but I guess the current lore is that Baby, Oren, and Kamin were natural Tuffles who were augmented into the form we see here.

I guess what I'm driving at here is that the Tuffles seem to have a very broad definition of what a Tuffle is. For them, it seems to be more about a way of thinking and feeling than any particular appearance or body plan. A machine can be a Tuffle. An Earthling infested with a parasite can be a Tuffle. So maybe those miniature humanoids in DBZ #20 were just one more variety of Tuffle.

I get a real transhumanist vibe from the Tuffles, particularly from the notion of archiving their King's DNA into Baby, and the way Dr. Lychee continued to exist as a "Ghost Warrior" after his natural death. Oh, and the Tuffles of Universe 6 augmented Kamin and Oren. That wasn't for revenge, by the way, they just wanted to see if they could do it, and apparently Kamin and Oren were outraged enough by this that they turned on their creators. Throughout the Dragon Ball franchise, the Tuffles are known for their advanced scientific knowledge, and also for making all these freaky creatures.

And maybe they weren't all evil. I wouldn't go that far. But I get the feeling that their leaders welcomed the Saiyans to their world because they saw a potential resource that they could exploit. Maybe they just wanted the Saiyans to pacify the uninhabited parts of their planet, or maybe they though the Saiyans could help them against other enemies. But maybe they saw the Saiyans as potential test subjects for their experiments. Just a thought.

I don't think the Tuffles necessarily subjugated the Saiyans, but it might have been more of a case of rising tensions. They lived in separate parts of the planet, with the Tuffles in the cities and the Saiyans in the wilderness, but the Saiyans grew more numerous, and the Tuffles probably saw that as a threat, and the Saiyans probably started to wonder why they needed the Tuffles at all. A lot of things might have instigated the war, but it wouldn't surprise me if the flashpoint involved Tuffles experimenting on Saiyan prisoners. If something like that came to light, then it would become a matter of survival. The Saiyans would have to wipe out the Tuffles to avoid being "Tuffleized" or worse. And the Tuffles would have to crush the Saiyans in battle to maintain control of the planet. There could be no return to the status quo; it would have to be total war until one side was completely defeated.

Once the war began, it must have taken a long time for the Saiyans to win. King Kai said that the lunar cycle on Planet Plant was eight years, and that each full moon allowed the Saiyans to gain ground in the war. So this implies that it took several full moons to end the war, so the conflict might have lasted decades, or maybe even a century. There might have been a few armistices or truces during that time, as each side would want to try to regroup and get as much momentum as possible before the next full moon. At least, that's how I'm picturing it.

One causus belli that sticks out in my mind is that the Tuffles were apparently a spacefaring people, but the Saiyans couldn't do much in space until they made contact with the Arcosians, and then King Cold's organization. So maybe the Tuffles were purposely keeping the Saiyans confined to Planet Plant, either to prevent them from escaping, or to isolate them from other civilizations. The Saiyans would take this poorly, I'm sure. So that might have a lot to do with it.

To be sure, the Saiyans of this era were real rat bastards, no doubt. I'm sure a lot of Tuffles of the time would make the argument that they were trying to contain the Saiyans as a matter of self-preservation, or even for the good of the greater universe. But I also suspect that the Tuffles aren't just friendly-looking anime folks. Creatures like Baby, Hatchiyack, Kamin, and Oren give us a peek into their more inhuman qualities, qualities that the Saiyans probably knew firsthand. It's possible that King Vegeta thought he was the one doing the universe a favor when he wiped the Tuffles out.

Something else to consider, in Episode of Bardock, we meet the Plantians, who were apparently the original inhabitants of Planet Plant. At some point, they were gone, and the Tuffles were living there instead, and then the Saiyans showed up and wiped out the Tuffles. So what happened to the Plantians? Did they just migrate to another world, leaving Plant empty for the Tuffles to move in? Or did the Tuffles do something to them? Food for thought.

[renegaed]

park jaehyun doesn’t believe in god.

he comes to terms with this the day they’re shovelling dirt onto his parents’ graves. there’s the sun’s warmth kissing his left cheek and it drenches him in sweat underneath the black suit, and while the priest recites some overdone passage from romans, all he can think of is that this is nothing like the movies. mother tells him that there’s a god above, and he notes how the sky fails to shed a tear. he learns then, what it really means to be religious.

park jaehyun doesn’t believe in god, but these days, he finds himself praying. it’s been two decades since it’s last been modelled for him, so he does it the only way he knows how: hands curled into fists as he bows his head and lets his eyelids fall shut. mother once taught him that the greatest cure to feeling overwhelmed was to hold his breath and count to ten. he learns that she was only half-right. because counting was only ever a crude method befitting the likes of a child, but as the child grew older, they were going to need greater methods to self-soothe. to cope.

so it hangs over his head, this amen.

suppose it is moments like these that he has to thank for his growth. moments where time slows and time speeds up, all at once. to live in these five-minute intervals and experience, firsthand, how it ages a person to grapple with the tangibility of death. it’s dramatic, he’ll admit: he doesn’t think he’ll die today. but there’s a voice reminding him that yang kiwoon fought for his life and lost, and he wonders when it’ll be his turn, to face a giant greater than he and not realise it until it’s too late.

his final opponent will find him with a gash across his left eyebrow and a smear of blood he’s left by his temple. they introduce him—this spiderboy—when he’s still breathing in cadence with his tattooing heartbeat, and yet he’ll swear his breaths still feel too far apart. suppose if he had the time, he’d wonder who’d been better off: david or goliath. to kill or be killed. fortunately, he doesn’t.

they push his opponent into the ring and he raises his fists up, but a couple of seconds pass and he’s wavering. he’s just a kid. mask fashioned from an old t-shirt and overestimated eye cut-outs, he’s just a kid jaehyun knows. “…beodeul?” his hands drop, and he’s pointing to the fucking ground in gestures, “you think you’re fucking funny, kid? you think this is a fucking joke?”

and had they been anywhere else, he’d do it. wrap his palm around the little fucker’s forearm so tight, he swears he’ll break it. anywhere else and he’d drag beodeul from where they stood, pull him off to the side, and tell him that there are things—places—where some people don’t belong, and it’s not meant as an insult. beodeul is nothing like him, and everything like that kid at his parents’ funeral, minutes before he conceptualises death, seconds before he stops believing in god.

but they’re here, in this ring, and there’s a crowd screaming for him to take the first hit. he’s done this enough times to know, by now, that the only way out is to finish. “you,” so he spits, points to the kid before he curls his fists forward, “you’re fucking dead.” he stomps on the ground and lunges for beodeul’s head just as the earth rumbles beneath them, “i told you to stay the fuck home.”

sunday mass  /  @spdersnse​

[plantsarefun06]

Creation of Lazarus

"But I know the rage that drives you. That impossible anger strangling the grief, until the memory of your loved one is just poison in your veins. And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed, so you'd be spared your pain."

-Ra’s al Ghul ----

Ra’s was born in the Arabi desert, to nomads, in 1430. If you asked any person from that tribe what Ra’s was, they would say “A boy with dreams”. Ra’s had dreams of knowledge, dreams of helping others, he dreamed of having a legacy, and a great one at that.

His dreams led him to leave his tribe. He knew that as a nomad, he would never truly achieve what he wished to and the best course of action was to settle down in a great city and continue the measly education that he got as a nomad, and the great knowledge the libraries of the Sultan provided.

His studies led him to a physician. Ra’s requested to become a physician, he wanted to help others, this would offer him an opportunity to study and learn about diseases and ailments, firsthand, and offer him chances to help the sick and injured.

The physician asked for one thing. “I am infirm and soon for the grave. My daughter, Sora, she will need a husband to look after her.” That’s when he heard a yell from the curtain behind the clerk’s desk. A woman swiftly pushed back the curtain to scold her father. “I thought we agreed you’d stop trying to marry me off!”

The girl, clearly about his age, looked at him, let out a quick huff before grabbing his wrist in a vice-like grip and dragging him behind the clerk’s desk, behind the curtain, into what he could now see was a closet, with medicines and serums lining the walls, all filled with cobwebs and dust, clearly having not been used in a while.

“I’ll be honest with you Ra’s… I don’t really like boys much… but I can offer you companionship and support. And if we get married it will make my father’s last days much happier.” He was evaluating what she said as she said it when she quickly looked over to the shelves “And him stop pestering me.” She mumbled more to herself than Ra’s. At that he let out a light chuckle and having thought over her offer gave her his thoughts.

“I admit, I’m more interested in the pursuit of knowledge than women. We might be able to come to some… mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Sora gave a light smile to Ra’s, and he returned it. They both understood the agreement they both had created.

----

Within the year, as they all had expected, Sora’s father had died.

Despite them knowing that the time was drawing near, it was still hard. Sora would never admit it, but she shed a tear at his funeral, watching the bird fly through the skies as he was laid out in the Tower of Silence for a sky burial, traditional for his Zoroastrianism.

To cope Ra’s delved into his studies and found a project of the late physician. He had seen him look over it many times, but he had never been allowed to read the texts. He would simply watch as the physician would spend hours pouring over the texts, before the physician would finally come over and teach him about traditional medicinal herbs and serums and their effects. Ra’s forever acknowledges that he learned more in his months under the physician's tutelage, than he ever did in the library.

He learned of how diseases spread, and the common ways they would extend across the city in the matter of weeks. How if they started within the markets, they would quickly spread across many of the peasants, and other middle-class folk, but they wouldn’t get much farther, and how if the diseases started amongst the slaves, they would spread much faster due to the unsanitary conditions, and they would often then be picked up by someone of upper class, as they traditionally had slaves, and spread.

He was eternally grateful for the lessons he was given. They helped him serve the city in incredible ways. Ra’s performed near miracles for anyone who needed it. His reputation started to grow, some upper-class citizens would refuse to come, because Ra’s would cater to slaves, but others would request the treatment of Ra’s and would always find themselves healed within the week.

But these texts that he found of the physicians, seemed to have some pages with herbs and brews, but the majority held drawings of people, dressed in unfamiliar clothing, all bright, with texts in a script he couldn't begin to understand. He looked among the pages and found what looked to be a cypher in the physician's handwriting. The physician had part of the unfamiliar script figured out… no not script… it was CODE! The texts were coded!

All he would need to do was complete the cypher and he would discover what the texts were for.

----

Ra’s poured hours into the texts and completing the code, with no such luck.

“It’s no good. These codes your father was working on have me beat. I can’t break it…” He called to his wife, who was currently working in the front of the shop after it closed about an hour ago, she was preparing for the next day, he supposed.

“Perhaps I can help?” She poked her head in from behind the curtain to peer at him being over the table.

“Thank you, Sora. A warm bowl of goat’s milk and nutmeg would be most refreshing.” Ra’s commented back to her, without lifting his eyes from the texts in front of him.

He could practically feel the glare she was giving him. He wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t burn him with the intensity he could only feel from it, and he wasn’t even looking at her.

“I mean with the code. I learnt much from my father and knew he was struggling to complete his final great work, just as much as you. You’re not married to a servant girl, Ra’s. Warm the milk yourself, and let me see those figures.” The defiance in her tone was thick and her anger was subtle yet tangible. He didn’t understand it but that defiance, and strong will made him want to love her.

He knew that their relationship was built on the agreement of companionship, and for the safety of Sora after her father’s death, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t love her. Love the way she would snark him when he would ask her to do things, that he could do himself, love how she would hum as she cooked the dinner that they ate every night, her loved how she would ever so lightly furrow her eyebrow when she was concentrated on work.

Ra’s let out a small smile and turned to meet his wife by the curtain. He bent down to kiss her forehead, “Sora… I believe this is going to be a beautiful marriage.” He gave her a light hug before giving her another kiss on her forehead and mumbling to her just loud enough for her to hear, “I’ll go warm some goat’s milk for the both of us, and you can look over the codes, until I get back, and we can work on them together.” He gave her a light squeeze before unraveling himself from her and going off to warm the goat’s milk, and Sora heading over to the table to study the texts.

----

“More code?” Ra’s asked no one in particular. He and Sora had stumbled upon a trapdoor underneath a floor mat in the medicinal closet while cleaning. Ra’s could tell from the hinges alone that it was used regularly. When they opened the hatch they saw that it led down a small ladder, the ladder led to a room, an underground cave almost, despite it being quite dark he could make out the sound of lightly sloshing water and summarized that there was a pool in this cave.

They both held small candles, and when holding them close to the wall they saw it. It was a wall full of more texts! They were familiar enough with the code to recognize that the code from the texts upstairs matched the one in front of them.

A glint of recognition and understanding was in Sora’s eyes. “My father was working on a map of the Tibetan mountains, using the wisdom of the stars and other maps from the libraries of the Sultan. And figuring out the meaning of the code from texts of the ancients. A code showing…” She stopped speaking, her eyes running over a few things before stopping.

“And code of what?” Ra’s questioned Sora’s sudden quietness and turned to give her his whole focus. Her eyes were completely fixed on one drawing. It was of the silhouette of a man, behind him was a circle of purple. The way it was positioned it seemed to be describing the man emitting the purple. Like he was glowing.

He refocused his attention on his wife’s face as she turned to him, “One which tells the way to achieve something men have long dreamed-” he saw the emotions his wife’s face held. Emotions he had never seen in her face before, it was complete and utter disbelief,

“-a wish to change reality.”

----

They soon were able to decipher enough code to learn that the Tibetan mountains was the location of the Temple of Guardians, the holders of two pieces of magical jewelry that possessed the ability, when combined, to grant a wish that could alter reality.

Sora and Ra’s had both packed enough for a 3-week trip on horseback, to the Tibetan mountains, and back. Ra’s had won the argument over who would be going, Sora wanting it to be herself, but eventually agreeing Ra’s would be better suited for the job, considering he grew up as a nomad, much to Sora’s chagrin.

He had been on trek for a week and was taking a rest on the side of the dirt road to fill his canteen with water from a stream he saw nearby, when he saw a flash of light blue and white out of the corner of his eyes. He immediately drew one of the daggers that he carried at all times and started to look around for what he saw.

He hadn’t fought anyone in a decade, last time being a practice spar with his uncle the night before he left to go live in the city alone, and even then, he was only okay, but he did know some forms of martial arts and weaponry in theory. He read about it in some of the texts from the library, while theory may not have anything on experience, it was better than nothing.

He was beginning to think he had either come down with a fever and been hallucinating, or he had simply been seeing things, when after five minutes of surveying the area, he could see that no one had been there.

He walked up to his undisturbed horse and grabbed the reins. Upon lifting himself on the horse he heard a light *jingle*. He looked down to find a small drawstring bag tied around the tip of his saddle. He was used to seeing little drawstring bags, like this one, around the shop. Sora often used them to hold the herbs they used for medical purposes, but he didn’t know why she would have packed it, or why it jingled when it was shaken.

He slowly picked it up, examining it as if it were going to spontaneously catch fire. He slowly undid the knot and overturned the contents of it in his gloved hand.

Out fell two earrings and a ring…

A ring that was a black as dark as the night sky he saw as a nomad child, with a pawprint, greener than any grass or any tapestry he had seen before…

And a pair of earrings red as the blood he had seen countless times as a physician, and five distinct spots, black as the ring…

Both the ring and the earrings looking exactly like the drawings he had seen of the Black Cat miraculous and the Ladybug miraculous he had seen in the texts.

Ra’s had learned many lessons in his life, but one of the biggest, most important of them all: There are no coincidences in the world.

Ra’s had no doubt in his mind that in his hand, he held the two most powerful objects in the universe, two objects that would grant him a wish.

Slowly, a grin grew on his face. He immediately seized the reins of his horse, and turned him around, heading faster than he ever had back to the city.

His father-in-law's final project was finally completed on its way to being completed.

----

The look on Sora’s face was one he had only seen once before, when they first discovered the small area underneath the shop, complete and utter disbelief.

“This… these jewels… are they really the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous?” She asked wide-eyed, just looking at what Ra’s had set on the counter after barging into the shop, in a ridiculously loud manner, might she add.

“I do believe it is, they practically feel powerful!”

Sora slowly inched her hand toward where the earrings fell on the counter. The moment she gently brushed her finger against one of the earrings, a bright pink light emitted from it, one that forced both Sora and Ra’s to cover their eyes.

Once the light dimmed, they saw something that was not in the texts.

Both Sora and Ra’s were in a state of shock. It was broken when the thing floated up to her face and began to speak, “Hello my name’s Tikki. I’m the Kwami of Creation!” She said, giving a little twirl in the air.

Ra’s, finally able to speak again, asked, “That does not explain much. What is a ‘Kwami’ and why did you suddenly appear when the earrings were touched by Sora?”

“Ooh. A Kwami is an entity tethered to this plane of reality by the jewelry that is sitting on your counter. I’m the entity of creation. When everything came to be, I came to be with it, not before, not after, some people confuse that.” The ‘Kwami’, as they both learned it was, giggled before continuing with the explanation they both needed, “I’m the thing that gives power to that jewelry, without me, that jewelry is just some antique junk.” She finished her explanation.

It made more sense than just ‘magical jewelry’ to have some entity tethered to it. “If you touch the ring Plagg will come out!” She exclaimed before going over to Ra’s and pulling off his glove and grabbing his hand. She pulled his hand from his side and he willingly allowed the ‘Kwami’ to lift his finger to touch the ring.

A second burst of bright light, green this time, came from the ring. This time Sora and Ra’s expected it so it wasn’t too bad. They only had to blink a couple times before they heard a yawn, “Well that was a good cat nap!” The other ‘Kwami’, who he was guessing his name was ‘Plagg’ from what ‘Tikki’ said, “Do you all have some cheese, I’m starving!”

Sora was the one who pulled herself together enough to answer ‘Plagg’s’ question, “There is some food in the cabinet under the basin. You may find what you are looking for there.” Sora gestured to the curtain and both Kwami got the memo, before floating off where Sora indicated the food would be.

Both Ra’s and Sora locked eyes. Their silent conversation led to them both leaving each other's gaze to eye the ring and earrings. They both agreed that they had no idea what had just happened.

----

“That is not a good idea.”

That was the only thing that was said after Sora and Ra’s took them to see the basement beneath their shop that held the texts and the pool. Both of the Kwami were faced away from the texts as ‘they should not see them’. Ra’s gave them an indignant look at their immediate dismissal of their want for a wish.

“This could help hundreds maybe even thousands of people, how is this not a good idea?”

“You don’t understand, the wish has major repercussions, you can always ask for a way to heal the injured and dead, but that wish will have untold side-effects.” Tikki tried to explain to both Ra’s and Sora. The sincerity in her voice was deep, but they did not hear the sadness that lingered in it as well.

“Will you not allow us to make the wish?” Sora asked, tilting her head to the side, as if analyzing the situation.

“We cannot stop you from making the wish, but we must tell you, it will have repercussions, and the one who makes the wish will feel them deeply.” Sorrow again seeped into Tikki’s voice; this time Ra’s noticed it as well.

“Then I will make the wish, I have memorized the incantation and only one of us can make the wish itself.” He pulled the now silver ring and black earrings from his pocket. He placed the ring on his left middle finger. He prepared to force the earrings through his ears, worst case scenario he could use whatever came of the wish to heal himself, only to be pleasantly surprised when the earrings glided through his ear as if he did have a piercing.

Both the Kwami moved to the outstretched hands Ra’s offered and sat down. Ra’s failed to notice the tears in Tikki’s eyes, and the downcast look on Plagg’s face.

The moment he uttered the last syllable, the rush to Ra’s was undeniable. He felt immense amounts of power seeping into his veins.

“I wish to have the means to heal any injury and return any person from death.”

And everything went quiet. All the power he was feeling only moments ago, felt like it was running off him, like dirt would in a shower.

He looked over to see Sora sitting in the ground shielding her face, much in the same manner she was when they first met the Kwami.

Both the earrings and ring started to burn lightly, so he ripped them off and threw them behind him, before running over to Sora and helping her stand.

Ra’s felt at his ear, where he just ripped the earring out, noticing the earrings didn’t leave so much as a scar.

Looking to check over Sora, he saw out of the corner of his eyes a bright green glow.

Both Ra’s and Sora looked over to see a neon, toxic green color at the bottom center of the pool.

It was mesmerizing how the green stretched from a small center at the bottom of the pool out, almost like tentacles, or tree roots growing out in the dirt.

He continued to watch until the entire pool was filled with the green, when he saw the same white and light blue flash out of the corner of his eyes. He tried to turn quickly and catch it, but the only thing he saw was an empty room.

A room empty of both the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous.

----

Life went on relatively normal for Ra’s and Sora. They cleaned out the basement and removed the texts, as they were no use to him anymore, and cleaned the area.

When finding a name, they settled on one- Lazarus Pit - from a biblical story that Sora’s father mentioned in one of the texts.

He had said ‘he wanted to be able to do the same as the Christian’s god, and revive the dead. And if the wish truly worked, it would be able to, they had yet to try the pit and test the magic that quite obviously resided within it.

----

As time went on, and the pit remained below their feet, Ra’s continued his work as a physician, continuing working miracles without the use of the pit, which was an actual miracle. His reputation grew both of his physician's duties, and of the great mind he held. He was referred to as “the greatest mind of his age” by some.

Ra’s had heard him referred to as this on occasion, but he didn’t realize just how far word of his miracles went until the Sultan’s guard requested his aid in healing the prince who had fallen ill.

As the guards left his shop, leaving him with the letter asking him officially of his aid he immediately turned to Sora with quite possibly the largest smile he ever had on his face, “If I could cure the prince-- our reputation would be made, I’d have the funding to push my research forward-”

He was cut off by Sora who he only realized was rubbing her temple with her hands at his rant, “The prince is nothing but a cruel young aristo-- I’ve caught him leering at me in the Bazaar!”

“Don’t do this Ra’s. We can do without the Sultan’s money!” Sora pleaded to him. She held a look of concern on her face that Ra’s completely ignored, rather thinking about what he could possibly do with the benefits of healing a prince.

“You’re wrong! When I walked through the desert, I nurtured a dream. This is my way to fulfill it!”

Ra’s turned away from Sora, and headed down below the shop, to the Pit.

----

Everything went wrong. And Ra’s had no idea how.

Everything was going fine.

The royal guards had brought the sick prince to his shop as requested by Ra’s. The moment he saw the prince Ra’s knew that he was on his deathbed… he knew the only way to help him was using the Lazarus Pit.

He had the guards bring him down the ladder and he followed them, with Sora by his side.

They dipped the prince in the Pit. They let him wade. It was only seconds, maybe a minute, at most, before the prince burst out from under the water. Certainly not sickly like he was, to the point of not being able to walk, not like he was when he arrived.

For the briefest moment Ra’s lived in this fantasy where the Pit healed the Prince, and Ra’s got the reputation he wanted, the funding he needed, and got to continue the research that he always wanted to. He lived in this fantasy where he and Sora worked side-by-side, studied medicine, and became great physicians known for their miracles.

This fantasy ended when the prince left at Sora his eyes, we're not the same as they were when he went in; they were yellow and feral. There was a snap before the guards were able to subdue him. They only realized that the snap was from Sora’s neck. And Sora laid on the ground with scratch marks on her face, her head bent at an unnatural angle, and a small drop of blood dripping down her cheek, from her mouth.

Ra’s fell beside her body, unmoving, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, the prince stopped struggling in the guards' arms and seemed to gain some form of coherency of the situation, but he could not look away from her. He didn’t even breathe until the guards grabbed him as well and put a bag over his head.

Everything went wrong.

----

They said he killed her. The Sultan was told by the prince’s guards that his son had killed the wife of the physician that treated him for his illness.

That he had snapped her neck. In return the guards were killed. They could not have the truth be spread. It could cause uprising if such rumors were told to others. So, the moment he was told the story, directly from the prince’s guards who had been there, and he got assurance that they had taken the husband -the physician- and put him in the dungeons, and after that assurance was placed, he had his personal guards slit their throats.

It wasn’t hard to say it was the husband who did it. Without the guards to tell what happened, and the physician in such a state of shock he wouldn’t even talk, no one questioned what the Sultan said.

How did this happen again?

Why did the prince look like that?

He looked feral?

His eyes were near yellow?

Why would he attack her?

Why would he kill her?

Why did he seem to be fine after a minute or being restrained?

Why?

Why?

Why?

They were the only questions Ra’s was asking himself of late.

He was completely unreactive on the outside but was perfectly aware of what was happening. He was perfectly aware of how the Sultan was placing the blame on him. How the Sultan was saying he killed Sora. He killed his wife.

And yet he knew that regardless of the fact he was innocent, he would still be blamed and persecuted for her death. So, he sat still and continued to ask those questions in his head.

How did this happen again?

Why did the prince look like that?

He looked feral?

His eyes were near yellow?

Why would he attack her?

Why would he kill her?

Why did he seem to be fine after a minute or being restrained?

Why?

Why?

Why?

He knew he was being gagged, tied up, and dragged from his cell from the dungeons beneath the castle. He knew that this is when they would punish him. It would be death.

How he would die?

He did not know.

Likely a public flogging, beating, or torture of some kind before then bend him over a rock and to take his head off.

And to be honest, Ra’s couldn’t feel anything, he was completely numb as his knees, calves, and feet were dragged over the dirt, and cobble leaving long scars. He knew they were supposed to sting, and burn, and just hurt, but he couldn’t feel a thing. He knew that was a bad sign, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He didn’t start to see anything until he saw it. There was a cage in the center of the courtyard, black iron, probably burning hot with the sun as it is, but that is not what caught his eye. It was the body of Sora that laid in it.

He started to feel the burn of the metal as they forced him in the same small cage as Sora. He was forced to curl in on himself as her body lay not 6 inches from him. Sat up against the side of the cage, with rope tied around her neck and waist, keeping her sitting upright, and facing the rest of the unbearably small cage. Her eyes still opened in the same shock they were in when he first was beside her body.

He felt as the cage was lifted up, the burn of the hot metal only worsening, as they carried the cage out to the city walls, to leave him in the desert to die.

----

His eyes never stayed off Sora’s for long. He remembered what her eyes looked like…

… these are not her eyes.

Sora’s eyes held none of what it used to. Her eyes held confidence, charm, they held stubbornness and defiance. All the things that made Sora the woman she was. All the things that were devoid in those eyes.

Those eyes were open and held only one thing: fear. And that was unlike Sora at all. Sora was never afraid.

But maybe she was of death. Maybe her eyes held fear because she realized what was going to happen…

...because she realized she was going to die.

----

Ra’s didn’t know how long he sat in that cage outside the city walls, staring into the unfamiliar eyes.

All he knew was that the trance was broken by the sound of creaking metal. The hinges. And the feeling of hands going under his arms and pulling him up. He had the strength to turn his head and be met with a face that was faintly familiar.

“Who are you?” He weakly rasped out. “Sabih, I’m a slave for the al-Hafiz family. You saved my mother from dysentery four months ago… I figured I owed you the same.”

And that’s all they said. That’s all they said when he walked back towards the al-Hafiz property. That’s all they said after Sabih settled him in the stables and fed him some water and leftover scraps. That’s all they said as Sabih handed Ra’s a small bag with some water, and food in it. That’s all they said before Ra’s returned to the outside of the city walls, and left on a search for the nomadic tribe he was born and raised in.

He didn’t know what to do, but he was going to figure it out, but not do it in that city.

----

It took him a few weeks, and some manual labor in return for supplies, before he found his uncle’s nomads and took control. It was relatively easy.

By the time he had found the nomads he had been able to sort through his mind. Find his priorities.

And right now, he wanted one thing: he wanted the great city to burn.

He wanted them all dead, he just had to be smart about it. He was thankful, now more than ever for the lessons Sora’s father gave.

He learned of how diseases spread, and the common ways they would extend across the city in the matter of weeks. How if they started within the markets, they would quickly spread across many of the peasants, and other middle-class folk, but they wouldn’t get much farther, and how if the diseases started amongst the slaves, they would spread much faster due to the unsanitary conditions, and they would often then be picked up by someone of upper class, as they traditionally had slaves, and spread.

It would be easy, he would start by giving a disease to the slaves, if the disease would spread quick enough, it could be passed down the classes and severely weaken the city. Especially if the slaves were hit first, considering that the city was built with them as their foundation.

----

The city was ravaged. Those who didn’t die of disease were killed by Ra’s and his men. When the priests of the Zoroastrian Delegation asked if they spared them and their Holy Towers of Silence. Ra’s turned to the man who was the messenger of the request and bared his teeth.

“Kill the priests. Burn their sacred buildings!”

Ra’s stood in before the destruction he caused. He returned to the city a very different man from when he first arrived there.

A man with a different dream…

Ra’s walked back to the old shop. One that he spent much time in. Leading the others down to the opening below the shop to allow them to see the Lazarus Pit.

“Uncle, you are still the leader of our tribe, but the tribe I am describing will stretch farther than the sands of Arabi. Stretch into every land… past the wall of every city.” Ra’s spoke keeping his voice low and authoritarian. His uncle let off a chuckle.

“Oh, nephew. Just like your father. You were always the dreamer. What you speak of it too… fantastical.” His words made Ra’s a bit angry, but a bit smug at the same time. His uncle had no idea what the Pit in front of his very eyes was capable of.

“*tch* My father never had half my vision, Uncle, nor half my talent.”

His uncle just sputtered in response, “But… it would take several lifetimes for one man to accomplish what you speak of!”

Ra’s just smirked at his words, “Yes, uncle. Yes indeed. And it will be quite some journey.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ra’s focused on the pit, reminded of Tikki’s words…

“You don’t understand, the wish has major repercussions, you can always ask for a way to heal the injured and dead, but that wish will have untold side-effects.”

“We cannot stop you from making the wish, but we must tell you, it will have repercussions, and the one who makes the wish will feel them deeply.”

He truly did. The creation of this wish helped him achieve one of his life’s greatest desires, one of his greatest loves, and in return he lost the love of his life, Sora.

And if you are to use the Lazarus Pit to heal physical injuries, you will suffer from temporary loss of sanity.

Truly a balance.

“You will learn in time. Time is something we have a great deal of. The destruction of this city… has unleashed a demon.

And I… Ra’s al Ghul… I am truly the Demon’s Head!”

----------

Heavily based off of Batman Annual Vol. 1 26

‘al Ghul’ translates to Demon’s Head in Arabic. Notice how that ‘al Ghul’ is only used during the quote at the beginning of the story(yes I did use a quote from the Nolan movies. It fit really well), and at the end when he loses it.

This is the closest I could possibly get to DC canon on Ra’s al Ghul’s origin. In the original Ra’s does not create the pits he simply finds them, with the help of maps left behind by the physician. I wrote this because I really wanted a Miraculous created Lazarus pit, but one that also had Sora in it. I really like her for the scene with the goat’s milk (that is comic accurate, you can check) and what happened to her was NOT deserved. I also wanted to show the human side of Ra’s, and how rage drove him to be such an evil person.

Also a headcanon of mine is that any miraculous jewelry that is some sort of piercing, does not actually require a piercing to wear, it will just go through the skin as if there was a piercing.

The ‘light blue flash’ that Ra’s thinks he hallucinated was a holder of the Rabbit miraculous leaving both the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous to him. This is done because the Lazarus pits are necessary to a stable timeline, not because whatever holder of the Rabbit miraculous is active, thought it was a good idea. They were practically forced.

Ra’s and Sora were closer to each other than anyone else, she was referred to as the love of his life, and they really had a deep bond and when Sora was killed he was broken. In the comic I based this off of, Talia even says, “[...]the death of Sora broke your grandfather’s heart… and forever darkened his soul.” when speaking to Damian.