#when we said injustice in one place means injustice everywhere

[notetaeker]

[deadpanwalking]

I too once danced in a ring. It was in 1948. In my country, the Communists had taken power, the Socialist and democratic Christian ministers had taken refuge abroad, and I took other Communist students by the hands or shoulders and we took two steps in place, one step forward, raised the left leg to one side and then the right to the other, and we did this nearly every month, because we always had something to celebrate, an anniversary or some other event, old injustices were redressed, new injustices were perpetrated, factories were nationalized, thousands of people went to prison, medical care was free, tobacconists saw their shops confiscated, aged workers vacationed for the first time in expropriated villas, and on our faces we had the smile of happiness. Then one day I said something I should not have said, was expelled from the party, and had to leave the ring dance.

That is when I understood the magical meaning of the circle. If you go away from a row, you can still come back into it. A row is an open formation. But a circle closes up, and if you go away from it, there is no way back. It is not by chance that the planets move in circles and that a rock coming loose from one of them goes inexorably away, carried off by centrifugal force. Like a meteorite broken off from a planet, I left the circle and have not yet stopped falling. Some people are granted their death as they are whirling around, and others are smashed at the end of their fall. And these others (I am one of them) always retain a kind of faint yearning for that lost ring dance, because we are all inhabitants of a universe where everything turns in circles.

It was God knows what anniversary and the streets of Prague were once again filled with young people dancing in rings. I wandered among them, I came very close to them, but I was forbidden to enter any of their rings. It was June 1950, and Milada Horakova had been hanged the day before. She had been a Socialist deputy and the Communist tribunal had accused her of plotting against the state. Zavis Kalandra, a Czech surrealist and a friend of Andre Breton and Paul Eluard, was hanged at the same time. And the dancing young Czechs, knowing that the day before, in the same city, a woman and a surrealist had been swinging from the end of ropes, were dancing all the more frenetically, because their dance was a demonstration of their innocence, in shining contrast to the guilty darkness of the two who were hanged, those betrayers of the people and its hopes.

Andre Breton did not believe Kalandra had betrayed the people and its hopes, and in Paris he called on Eluard (in an open letter dated June 13, 1950) to protest the insane accusation and try to save their old friend. But Eluard was busy dancing in a gigantic ring between Paris, Moscow, Prague, Warsaw, Sofia, and Greece, between all the socialist countries and all the world’s Communist parties, and everywhere he recited his beautiful poems about joy and brotherhood. After reading Breton’s letter, he took two steps in place, then one step forward, he shook his head, refusing to defend a betrayer of the people (in the June 19, 1950 issue of the weekly Action), and started to recite in a metallic voice:

“We shall fill innocence With the strength that so long We lacked We shall no longer be alone.”

I wandered through the streets of Prague, rings of laughing, dancing Czechs swirled around me, and I knew that I did not belong to them but belonged to Kalandra, who had also come loose from the circular trajectory and had fallen, fallen, to end his fall in a condemned man’s coffin, but even though I did not belong to them, I nonetheless watched the dancing with envy and yearning, unable to take my eyes off them. And that is when I saw him, right in front of me! He had his arms around their shoulders and along with them was singing two or three simple notes and raising his left leg to one side and then his right leg to the other. Yes, it was he, Prague’s darling Eluard! And suddenly the people he was dancing with fell silent, continuing to move in absolute silence while he chanted to the stamping of their feet:

“We shall flee rest we shall flee sleep, We shall outrun dawn and spring And we shall shape days and seasons To the measure of our dreams.”

And then everyone abruptly began again to sing the three or four simple notes, speeding up the steps of their dance. They were fleeing rest and sleep, outrunning time, and filling their innocence. They were all smiling, and Eluard leaned over a girl he had his arm around:

“A man possessed by peace is always smiling.”

And the girl started laughing and stamping her feet harder so that she rose a few centimeters above the pavement, pulling the others up after her, and a moment later not one of them was touching the ground, they were all taking two steps in place and one step forward without touching the ground, yes, they were soaring over Wenceslaus Square, their dancing ring resembled a great wreath flying off, and I ran on the ground below and looked up to see them, as they soared farther and farther away, raising the left leg to one side and then the right to the other, and there below them was Prague with its cafes full of poets and its prisons full of betrayers of the people, and from the crematorium where they were incinerating a Socialist deputy and a surrealist writer the smoke ascended to the heavens like a good omen, and I heard Eluard’s metallic voice:

“Love is at work, it is tireless.”

And I ran after that voice through the streets so as not to lose sight of the splendid wreath of bodies gliding over the city, and I realized with anguish in my heart that they were flying like birds and I was falling like a stone, that they had wings and I would never have any.

Milan Kundera, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting (tr. Aaron Asher)

[jordanianroyals]

2 October 2023: Queen Rania urged young leaders to make the most of their time to further the cause of peace, a “lifelong mission” that requires “not only every ounce of our strength, but every ounce of our time.”

She made her remarks in the United Kingdom, while speaking to a gathering of over 2,000  youth activists and leaders at the One Young World Summit in Northern Ireland’s city of Belfast. This year’s summit commemorates the 25th anniversary of the Good Friday Agreement between the British and Irish governments, which was signed in Belfast. (Source: Petra)

Thinking back to the year 1998, Her Majesty recalled how the signing of this agreement inspired His Majesty the late King Hussein to remain hopeful about achieving peace in the Middle East. She also highlighted King Hussein’s role in the Wye River negotiations, which took place that same year, as he was battling cancer and undergoing chemotherapy.

She argued that, despite his poor health, he insisted on traveling to the United States to push for the signing of a memorandum between Palestinians and Israelis that aimed to resume the implementation of the Oslo II Accord.

“He saw our time on earth for what it is: finite, fragile, and never to be taken for granted,” Queen Rania said. She also relayed the late King’s words at the agreement’s signing, where he said, “If I had an ounce of strength, I would have done my utmost to be here, and to help in any way I can.”

“Cancer reminded King Hussein once again of how limited time can be. And once again, he chose to live in the fullness of that time…to give meaning to every moment he had so that future generations could live in peace,” she said.

Her Majesty explained that despite time’s limited nature, “hope can endure the test of time,” and people can expand the time we have “by using it well.”

The Queen also emphasized the urgency of the world’s biggest challenges, from polarization in politics to growing refugee crises, climate change, and ongoing discrimination and gender inequality.

“At a time when we’re talking about advanced technologies like AI, it is preposterous that many still fall back on the primitive thinking that the color of one’s complexion determines their worth. And it’s shameful that gender equality is still a goal, not a reality,” she said.

Noting that, 25 years after the Wye River Memorandum, the Palestinian-Israeli conflict remains a prominent example of an overlooked emergency in need of peaceful resolution, Her Majesty called attention to the injustice and brutality that Palestinians are subjected to on a daily basis.

“Already in 2023, more Palestinians have died at the hands of Israelis than in any of the past 15 years. And every second of every minute of every day, millions of Palestinians are being robbed of their freedom, their rights…their very identity,” she stated. “Palestinian families are being uprooted from their land. Worshippers at Al Aqsa are attacked and brutalized, while 12-year olds are jailed just for throwing stones.”

Her Majesty therefore urged leaders to exert every effort in achieving lasting peace and progress, recommending that they join His Majesty King Abdullah, who, despite headwinds, “continues to walk the hard, and often lonely, path of peace.”

“It is time we populate that path,” she said, asking leaders everywhere to “snap out of complacency and put in the hard work that lasting peace requires—in the Middle East and elsewhere.” 

Queen Rania also underscored the need to remain committed to hope  in order to resolve pressing issues, explaining that despite having reason for cynicism, hope remains “a choice  – a decision we make, irrespective of the circumstances.”

Referring once again to the Good Friday Agreement, Her Majesty noted that after its signing, it took nine more years of negotiations for the terms of the agreement to come into fruition. She also cited the years-long efforts of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which provided restorative justice following the end of apartheid.

“Miracles don’t happen overnight. Complex problems defy hasty fixes,” Queen Rania said. “You cannot secure peace with the stroke of a pen any more than heal a bullet with a Band-Aid. The truth is, we have to take our time in order to use it well.”

Noting the difference in approach among many modern politicians, Her Majesty said, “Today, many political leaders cater to the now; they care more about the next election cycle than the next generation. And many seem more inclined to break treaties than broker them.”

The Queen also pointed out that it is ironic that those most affected by conflict are often excluded from conversations about long-lasting reconciliation, “even though they have the greatest motivation to find the creative compromises that genuine peace demands.”

One Young World is a global platform that identifies, connects, and promotes young leaders from around the world, hosting an annual summit that convenes in a different city each year. Considered one of the world’s largest youth leadership summits, this year it takes place in Belfast, Northern Ireland, from 2-5 October.

Summit participants, who are working to accelerate social impact, include a number of young leaders from over 190 countries and more than 250 organizations. The participants are invited to deliver speeches and participate in workshops, and networking opportunities, as well as receive counselling by influential figures attending the summit. In previous years, counselors included U.S. President Bill Clinton, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, and the late South African human rights activist Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

[vro0m]

Thoughts about the Lewis x Jay Shetty podcast and how they relate to frequent themes, for my future reference :

Loneliness : (Abu Dhabi 2011)

I wonder what his socialization was like given he was bullied at school and then away on the weekends. Did he have friends? Did he get to spend time with other kids in normal situations? He said “missed a lot of that social interaction also.”

Couldn't talk to his parents, mom because she couldn't understand the racial abuse, dad because he would see it as weakness

It's interesting that he thinks basically the drivers should be friends because they have a lot in common but they can't because of how the sport is and it's also sad. I wonder how he feels about it, he didn't say. 

The loneliness of being the first and only

Injustice : (Belgium 2014)

The school trauma seems much more extensive than I thought although he mentions it often

He felt like the school system was against him -> feeds into things we talked about re: being repeatedly exposed to injustice and never feeling like anyone has his back (+ can't talk to his parents or any adults about it = loneliness) -> trust issues + need for control + gets paranoid at times

Anthony :

Tougher than I thought... I mean I knew he wasn't warm and outwardly loving but the whole crying is for the weak is explicitly harsh

It's curious Lewis mentions the effects of bad report cards in abusive households. Does he consider his household abusive, then?

He mentions needing to win to be accepted aka rejection if he doesn't win? That's harsh af.

Then he adds the not winning is losing bit I mean...

Mentions again the conflict with his dad which is A Big Thing in his life

Mental health :

I feel like he still has a lot of work to do because right now it’s “yeah everything was bad and I suppressed a lot of it but I’m fine lol.” Kinda feels like he's not done unpacking but hey what do I know (answer : nothing)

The rollercoaster you go through from the extremes that sports put you through is so fascinating to me and I wish I could do a research project on it like fr. I would love to do study cases of athletes to see how it impacts the way they function as human beings. I have a hunch it truly modifies the way they process things.

Always the search for bigger meaning and sense, his place in the world -> need to belong (-> loneliness + injustice)

It's interesting how much tension he lives in with his perfectionism and the whole life flashing before his eyes in his last lap for the 2020 WDC, and the pressure he puts on himself and other put on him, and all that. I wonder what it's gonna be like for him psychologically once he doesn't have to live like that anymore. I wonder if he'll be able to let go of it. 

The competitiveness never going away is another type of energy that I wonder about. Where will he put it? What will he do with it? How is it gonna affect him without the F1 outlet? It might be good or bad.

Very interesting asking him about being alone with his own thoughts in the car, too bad he didn't really answer. 

Not surprised he wasn't kind to himself, that goes with the perfectionist/control theme + Anthony + injustice

The need to belong but the difficulty to build trust because of past experiences is everywhere (injustice + Anthony + loneliness)

F1 :

The whole part about it being intense when he got in F1 because he wasn’t PR taught is spot-on with things I noted in the rewatch, aka the video where he said he didn’t know if he still enjoyed it.

The three steps of you part is spot-on re: the recurrent topic of his true self vs his PR persona and the difference between the two and the circumstances that gave birth to the latter

I love that he said you get more and more in your shell and you become harder to relate to. Great insight.

The way him and Toto relate to each other although being different -> the parallels in their trajectories (cf. the essay)

I like that he didn't wanna wear the stupid race as one shirt.

He is indeed preparing his retirement very actively.

Other :

The whole part about him being from a biracial family is so interesting. Good insight.

Kinda tired of the inspiration pxrn ngl but I like that despite that and him saying you can do whatever you want he ultimately understands that it's not that easy and that there's social structures in place preventing that from being true. It's interesting how he goes back and forth about it at the moment but not surprising (cf. end of positive thinking post)

Jay Shetty has really good questions but a lot of time Lewis doesn't really answer them, it's a shame.

I admire his sense of responsibility but also it's so hard on people like him. You get the few or lone person fighting their way into a world that's basically closed to them and then they have that added work of taking on that responsibility on top of everything else. Unfair.

Storytelling as a tool is something he uses a lot actually, hence maybe all the maxims or whatever they're called.

I didn't see the criticism of capitalism coming lol. Easy to make fun of but in his defense, it's not like there's a manuel on what to do with your money when you think you shouldn't have that much. We will see, it's an interesting development.

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

grey clouds gathering over the hills

I have completely let go of the house selling process

whatever happens happens and I'm happy to go

but I'm stormy inside so there must be rumbling grief

the first three years here were magical

no less than magical to me

I had wildflowers growing everywhere

I had gardens and learned so much about plants

I named and make friends with every tree

my four sister blue spruces

my triad of lilac bushes planted in a perfect triangle

the long grasses and the bunny skeletons

the illegal chickens and and the laughter

it's the closest thing I ever had to a place I wanted to stay

it was the first place I really called home

that was a house and land and full of dreams

and like everything else the overwhelming neglect

has everything overgrown and empty and sad

I can't remember the joy of the beginning

without the bitter truth of how it ended

and it didn't fucking have to be this way

and isn't that the root of all suffering?

dwelling on some sort of desired outcome?

maybe it is and maybe I'm playing into it

I suffered here more than I loved it here

but those first years were full of a type of sunshine

that usually only comes right before a scene

where everything you found beautiful is ripped away

and the wars are waged and the blood falls and

the fires burn and injustice reigns

and then maybe the eagles and the lightning comes

the birds outside my juniper

the tree that made me want to buy it

I named him mycroft and often sat at his trunk

and the union of roots to soil and told him

my problems while the kids climbed the branches

I'm not sad to leave because this place

isn't what it was but I'll miss my nature friends

I'll find new ones and the first step to that

farm I have somewhere in the most painful part of my mind

is walking on the glass on my disappointment

I could have been happy here

but I wasn't after being betrayed

even if I could keep the house

I fucking hate it

even if it went back to how I found it

I'd still want to drive past and keep going

I guess that's the weird thing about grief

Wanting those days you feel were ripped from you

when you lived them and that's all you had

I just wanted more of them

I wouldn't go back and I like who I am better

I'll still hang up pictures of the kids in the trees

and look at them with smiles that I mean

I'm glad it's happening and at the end of the day

I don't care how incompetently it's done because

it doesn't fucking matter anymore

it's hard to think about my next plan

even shopping today I saw things that maybe I could

envision in some new space but I still

can't go forward in my mind without a blockage

but it's still only been a few days of the process

I'll know what to do and how to do it

it just doesn't work like it used to

and maybe it shouldn't

this is a really shitty place to be

it hurts to think I won't see all my cardinals

the family of blue jays and whatever else I

desperately clung to to overcompensate for

all the various layers of emotional avoidance

like belle talking to the fucking furniture

it would be embarrassing if it didn't hurt so much

let it hurt and let it rain and let it storm

if I feel it it'll tell me a message and pass

it's not wrong to feel attached to a place

where you were made promises that just happened

not to come true in any sense of fashion

I wasn't dumb for believing them

at least I keep telling myself that

it'll stick one of these days when I'm not looking

I'm going to be so much happier

on the other side of this

I'll live somewhere where I like to use all the rooms

just imagine that kind of freedom

and when I was being told what was happening

knowing better than to believe half of it

he kept saying "that way we don't have to do the work"

he said that in some way three or four times

and it helped a bit because that's what I was

always fucking willing to do

the work

man if it's for something I'll do all the work

except ironically for myself in come cases

that's likely what's got me in the feels

if one person is willing to do the work

and one person is doing everything they can not to

this kind of incompatible disaster is bound to happen

I wonder if I froze to death or drowned first

whatever happened must have felt like both

what a sad little game that nobody won

all the jewels in the crown were plastic

horrible design really I should have looked closer

but it's over and the corpse is being carried away and sold

and this will just be a place where we lived

I think this is processing emotions

I don't feel any better

but that's okay

[diaryofanangrybitch]

Anger / Apathy

September 2024

I’m a crier. I cry all the time, about everything. I cry when I’m happy, I cry when I’m sad, and I cry when I’m angry.

Angry is something I’ve been a lot lately. Not frustration and annoyance, but red, hot steaming fury. Rage sits beneath my skin and festers there for days on end, begging to be released. I am a kettle on the verge of boiling over, and when the kettle boils over, my tears spill out, too.

Shame comes along with it. Anger has negative connotations, and so do tears. People view anger as something they need to expel — as something to hide or dismiss. It’s something they don’t want others to see. I’ve felt that, too, recently.

Voicing anger is hard. It’s an art form. There are strict social guides around it, and to an extend, these are reasonable. When you’re angry towards a loved one, you must remain contained, avoiding yelling or other aggressions. When you’re angry towards political situations, you must be loud and demanding, but not too much, or you’ll be viewed as violent.

In my case, when I’m angry, I assume people view me as unstable. Why? Because I cannot feel any strong emotion without shedding tears over it. I cannot articulate myself properly. I become one giant human sack of feelings.

That being said, there are only a handful of things that truly make me reach that point — where the feelings are too large for me to hold.

One of those things is injustice. And there seems to be a lot of that at the moment. I’ve always been used to exposure to some level of injustice. I work in violence against women, for Christ's sake. I see it everyday. But right now… the world seems to be in a place darker than its been in years. There is conflict everywhere. From Palestinians being massacred, to children shot dead at school, and from mass rapes to police violence. We cannot get away from it, no matter how hard we try.

The world is a really fucking awful place, and yet somehow, most of us seem to be able to function within it.

It has always baffled me how people can carry on with their lives, making small talk and talking shit, when people (and let’s be honest, mostly men) are out here harming innocent people with no concern. How can people spend time at parties when children are having their limbs blown off? How can they stay silent when police abuse their powers to oppress us?

For me, when I see these things on the news, I can’t leave them alone. I can’t put blinders up and carry on with my day. My whole mood has shifted.

I see these things on the news and feel deflated. That’s the thing with anger, it’s never just anger. It’s hurt. It’s betrayal. It’s disappointment. It’s pure heartbreak. It’s devastation.

People will say that this doesn’t directly effect me, so why does it bother me so much but how could it not? They want us to be silent — to sit still and let it it happen. They don’t want to see our tears or our cries. Our silence gives them what they want — complicity.

Complicity is easier than deviating from the norm, to any extent. If you’re not complicit, you risk your reputation and your own comfort. It’s not easy feeling frustration and hurt and hopelessness. Ignorance truly is bliss. But I don’t want bliss if it means complacency to the abuse of millions of people — if it means allowing injustice and abuses of power to continue to occur.

You’re wrong if you think these don’t effect you. These injustices are so deeply ingrained in our systems that you don’t notice them. That’s their whole purpose and they’re succeeding it in. It’s not normal to have the constant threat of homeless or gun violence looming over us — having our safety depend on our ability to conform.

And I’m sick of it. I’m sick of hearing politicians talk about the importance of public transport, and investing billions in tax payer money to upgrade facilities, just to see PSOs at every single station, ensuring only those deemed deserving by the state are allowed the privilege of movement. It’s the pinnacle of gate keeping. These people with power and authority are not here to keep us safe. They are here to control us.

This increased sense of anger I’m currently feeling, has lead to a steep divestment in over aspects of my life. Things I used to care about have been completely overshadowed. I’ve lost interest in what used to matter, because it doesn’t.

I’ve lost compassion for others concerns, too. Their complaints about minor parts of their days seem so mundane. Everyday life inconveniences pale in comparison to the atrocities occurring across the globe everyday. Don’t be mistaken, I still care, just not to the same extent as I have in the past, which arguably, was already too much.

I’ve been desensitised. It’s not just the news, but my work, too. I see the worst of the worst every single day, knowing there’s little that can be done to stop it, because their struggle is necessary for those in power to uphold their power. More injustice.

It bothers me. It irks me. It weighs on me so heavily I no longer have enough strength left to carry the same compassion to my peers that I used to.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling. I worry I’m dismissing those around me or undermining their experiences. I worry about what others will think when I share my anger. I feel ashamed, but I’d rather sit with that vulnerability than without it, if it means remaining complicit in the persistent abuse and oppression of our fellow humans.

[spellucci]

Doom!

Monday, August 7, 2023

Margaret and Tim went into the Cape Breton Highlands National Park Visitor Center to read maps, inquire about hikes and learn about the history of the area. In particular, we were interested in learning who the Acadians were. We learned they were French who were forcibly removed by the English. In this area, families were removed to make room for the park. One resident we talked to said her grandparents were getting old and didn’t speak English, only French. They were duped by government officials into giving up their home to make way for the park. Injustice is everywhere.

--

We balance our activities by discussing who wants to do what when and then doing some negotiating. Jeanne had a Zoom meeting mid morning, and Margaret and Tim wanted to go for a hike at the same time, so we compromised: Jeanne went to her meeting and Margaret and Tim went for a hike, and when Jeanne was done with her meeting, she joined the hike.

The hike was along a loop trail called Le Buttereau (meaning small hill). It was an easy, mossy walk thru the woods. We passed eight or so ruins of Acadian homes. Each homestead was marked with the name of the family and the number of children. Almost all had at least 10 kids! When Jeanne joined, we walked to the beach and a separate loop of the trail.

We stopped for lunch on a beautiful spot on the Cabot Trail overlooking the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Tim had just finished setting up the table and chairs when he saw rain coming across the gulf and threw them in the back of the van just in time. We watched several squalls heading either for Cheticamp or us or both.

After the rain stopped we drove further along the Cabot Trail to a short boardwalk loop path along a Bog. Jeanne, Margaret and Dora went to look for carnivorous plants so Jeanne could send pictures to Jake. After spotting the bladderworts and pitcher plants, Jeanne was eager to helpfully point them out to passersby. A family with a rather bored little girl came up behind us. Jeanne started explaining how the plant catches insects, “the insect sees the fake flower and then goes to the pitcher to drink the water, then DOOM!” The family were all startled. The little girl was finally interested in the bog. Success.

We headed back to Chéticamp for laundry. RVers all meet at the laundromat — there was the couple with Storyteller van like ours from NJ. We did laundry and exchanged stories of places we recommended.

No one wanted to cook, so we cruised the village discussing potential restaurants. Gluten free pizza! Who expected gluten free pizza in rural Canada? A gastronomic delight for Jeanne.

[empressofthesunwriter]

Friendly Faces Everywhere

Codename Dovahkiin Part 2

Now that the Stick of Truth RPG is over it's time for N.K. to face the normal everyday life of South Park.

She should have known nothing in South Park is ever normal!

Day to day the craziness of this supposed quiet little mountain town she has to combat now.

Thank god, she has Tammy, Wendy, her boys, and her Social Media/Magical Girl Powers on her side.

This gonna be a wild ride!

Main Pairing: New Kid/Kenny McCormick/Kyle Broflovski

Chapter 7:This is not you!

The Christmas break is over soon.

Too soon for my taste.

I enjoyed it greatly.

Having dates with Heidi, doing something with my female friends, and spend time with Leo.

I totally and completely ignore the fever dreams I had on Christmas.

Just ignore it and be a good girlfriend, friend, and sister.

Nothing to see here officer.

Only a normal pre-teen living her normal life in a…really fucked up city.

But we will ignore this.

Ignoring is good.

Anyway, the first school day after the break starts with a school assembly where also our parents participate.

I’m sitting between my parents, wondering what will happen next.

Mr. Mackey explains to us that Principal Victoria got fired since she didn’t react right to a student calling rape "hot Cosby" and that we will get a new principal.

The men that walks in…I get shivers all over my body.

Not because he is creepy or anything.

I know his type.

That’s a dudebro who is full-on political correctness.

My gut is right as he tells us clearly: “I don't know about you, but frankly I'm sick and tired of how minority groups are marginalized in today's society. I'm here because this place is lost in a time warp! Students who still use the word "retarded"! A teacher who said women without wombs should get an AIDS test! A chef "person of color" who the children had sing soul songs and who the children drove to kill himself!”

“No, he got brainwashed by a cult.”, corrects him Leo.

This earns my little brother two days' detention.

P.C. Principal is not joking around. Alone his name says it all.

Hey, I’m the first one who is against injustice and all that, but these dudebro’s are too extreme.

Even Mr. Mackey gets detention because he answered P.C. Principals question where the minoritys are correct.

I mean, we do have only Token.

Yet the dudebro doesn’t care.

We will need all to watch our tongue around him.

After the little assembly our parents go home or to work and we start our school day.

When it’s break time I call all my friends and my girlfriend over to my locker.

“Okay, my amazons, listen up.”, I begin in a hushed tone. “I hate to say it but we have to be careful now what we say, because we can’t even make jokes anymore. P.C. Principal is out for blood and he will pick up any political incorrectness, even if it’s sarcasm or the likes.”

“You are white as a sheet.”, points Heidi out and rubs my cheek in comfort. “Are you alright N.K.?”

“Yeah, I never saw you this scarred. I thought you would find P.C. Principal awesome!”, wonders Bebe.

All our friends make agreeing sounds.

I take Heidi’s hand and shake my head with wide eyes.

“I know his P.C. from when I lived in Miami. All and nothing is an offense to this guys. And the worst is you can’t argue with them because they will throw at you the racist, bigoted, or queerphobic card. They even don’t care if you are part of a minority. So from now on we have to watch our mouth.”

Wendy frowns at me.

“This sounds like a personal experience.”

“It is. When I lived in Miami I was dating an Hispanic girl. It wasn’t anything serious, but we had a good time with each other. Well till the day we were at this Starbucks.”, I recount my first time facing this kind of P.C. I still shiver thinking about it. “I told her she looked tired. That’s when a dudebro literally jumped up from his chair and called me out because I stereotyped her as a sleepy person. Even her telling him she really was tired, didn’t help. That guy was not stopping. I’m not ashamed to say I cried like a river. Never has someone completely destroyed me like this dude.”

All their chins meet the floor and Heidi hugs me to console me.

“Oh damn, this doesn’t sound good!”, say’s Red.

“If some of them made N.K. cry it’s serious.”, adds Nichole.

“All right, we need to watch what we are saying around P.C. Principal.”, reminds them Wendy. “Anyone who gets our pretty much real Amazon crying and being ashamed of herself is not someone you wanna mess with.”

The school bell sounds, meaning we all have to go back to our classrooms, which we do.

Only one day has to pass before the boys come to me.

And with boys I mean I saw how they send Leo over to talk to me, while Stan’s Gang minus Cartman and Craig’s gang look from save distance on.

I’m standing with Heidi at my locker, putting my books away, so we can go to the cafeteria to have lunch with our girl group.

“Hey big sis, hey Heidi.”, greets us Leo nervous. He so doesn’t want to do it. “The guys…I mean I was wondering if you N.K. will do something against P.C. Principal.”

I just look around him to fix the little cowards with a glare.

“Really brave of you all. Send my own brother in hopes I agree more. If you have to say something say it.”, I make clear.

At least the fourth-grade boys do look a bit embarrassed.

“Please N.K. you are the strongest person we know.”, Stan begins. “If you can’t get rid of P.C. Principal no one can.”

“Also since you and Heidi are the only same-sex couple, maybe you can go together to him. He will surely listen to your more since you are a minority.”, adds Craig monotone like always.

I can’t believe what I heard.

“We will certainly not get on P.C. Principals’ bad grades.”, I tell them, taking my girlfriend’s hand. “People like P.C. Principal don’t see reason, they see only their way. You can’t win against him in normal ways.”

“So we should just give up? That dude will ruin anything, what is with free speech and all.”, ask me, Kyle.

It’s weird talking to him after…well all that happened.

“No, that’s not what N.K. means.”, answers Heidi for me. I’m so thankful for her. “If you wanna get rid of P.C. Principal you have to play dirty.”

“Go to Cartman, he is the evil psychopath you need.”, I point out.

With that, we make our way to the cafeteria.

When school ends we all heard the news.

Apparently P.C. Principal kicked Cartman’s ass so hard that the fatass is now at the hospital.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m happy about that. Cartman deserves all the beatings in the world.

Yet, I’m disappointed that our local psycho couldn’t win against P.C. Principal.

I have a feeling the dudebro will stay for a long time.

The P.C. party the next day in school and hearing there Kyle stopped saying Caitlyn Jenner isn’t a hero is proof enough.

Still, I can’t help but wonder…I have my Social Media Power and my Magical Girl Form…maybe I could have WON against them.

Why did I not fight?

I’m asking this myself later at night laying in my bed.

Did I lose my will to fight?

Yes, I had a bad experience with a dudebro before, but I never backed down.

Not if I have all this power on my side.

Or…I’m just a little girl with powers who thinks she can change the world but when she should do it she shows her true colors.

The colors of a coward.

I’m so confused.

That’s when I hear how someone is knocking on my window.

…What the fuck I’m on the second floor who is crazy enough to climb up my window?

I get my answers as it opens dramatically and I see a masked boy with a dark cape and a green M on his chest and a little question mark on his hood.

“Novella-Karin Campo.”, says the mysterious boy my name in such a deep voice that sends shivers down my back. Not out of fear…I have a voice kink. So you can imagine what I’m feeling. “We need to talk. Transform and meet me at your front yard.”

“Wait a second who are you, you mysterious caped dude with the sexy voice?! How do you know me and my powers?”

“Mysterion. All will be clear to you soon.”

Dramatically he jumps down and my chin meets the floor.

I don’t know what is going on, but this Mysterion is the hottest guy I ever met.

I have a girlfriend, I have a girlfriend, I have a girlfriend I like a lot! Don’t be a thot, N.K.!

Still, I transform and float down to the ground.

Mysterion just looks stoic at me, a dark intimidating silhouette in the moonlight. I swerve dark shadow tendrils dance around him.

I feel a power coming from him…so dark…so old…so not understandable.

This turns me even more on.

I may be bisexual but I admit I always dreamed of meeting a dashing mysterious superhero and being whisked away at night in his strong arms.

But I’m no damsel…I kind of a hero too…okay more a Magical Girl but whatever, you get my point.

Once again remember I have I girlfriend and don’t be a thot!

“So Mysterion.”, I begin curious. “Will you now tell me who you are and what you want from me?”

Something similar like a smile is on his lips.

“You can’t guess?”

“I would remember someone with a voice like that.”

“You only need to know that I’m your friend.”, he tells me. “And as your friend, I have to ask you…what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hey!

I cross my arms and send him an angry look.

“So not only do you not want to tell me who you are, but you also insult me. Doesn’t makes you look good Mysterion.”

“Some needs to be straight with you-“

“-I’m allergic to straight, ew!-“

“-I’m not even commenting on that. When you first came to this town you were this unstoppable force of nature but since you are together with your girlfriend you became tame. The N.K. I meet would have done something against P.C. Prinicipal, yet you told us to go to Cartman. So I’m asking you, what is fucking wrong with you?”

Speechless I stare at him.

…I hate to admit it, but he is right. The same thoughts tormented me.

“Look dude, you are one of my friends, as it seems. Also, I will be frank with you…Heidi is important to me. I messed up with Kyle and Kenny and made Heidi unsure about our relationship. I will not destroy it only to help the boys.”

Mysterion has only one thing to say to me: “Coward.”

I wince, but I don’t disagree.

“So you put your relationship before anything? You have a gift, it’s your damn duty to use it for the good of the people.”

I’m remembering my fever dream where I was divorced from Heidi because I put my powers in the first place.

“What do you know about gifts? I NEVER ASKED TO BE MADE THIS WAY!”, I shout the last part into his face, pointing an accusing finger at him.

The masked boy… just looks so tired and defeated now.

“I understand you better than you think.”, he starts to tell me. “I have also a gift…a curse I didn’t ask for.”

This…didn’t expect that. I feel the sincerity of Mysterion. He looks like he lived a thousand lifetimes and only saw the worst of humanity.

“What is your curse?”, I ask quietly.

“I can’t die.”

What?!

“I've experienced death, countless times. Sometimes I see a bright light. Sometimes I see heaven. Or hell. But eventually, no matter what, I wake up in my bed, wearing the same old clothes.”

Shocked I put my hand on my mouth. His desperation is clear as water. Something like this you can’t fake.

“And the worst part? Nobody even remembers me dying. I go to school the next day, and everyone is just like, "Oh hey Kenny." Even if they had seen me get decapitated with their own eyes.”

…Kenny?

Tears trail down my eyes as I cry for him.

For my princess.

I should have known it was him.

He wants to say more, but I just hug him to me.

I hug him with all the love I have in my heart for him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”, I wail. “You must think I’m the biggest egoist in the world. I never wanted to hurt you guys, no one, but it seems I can only do that. You are right I should have helped you guys…but I don’t wanna lose Heidi.”

He hugs me back, petting my head.

“There is more, isn’t there N.K.?”

“I had a dream on Christmas Eve. I saw a future where I abandon you guys for Heidi and then I abandon her for my powers. I don’t want this future to happen!”

It feels good to finally speak about it.

Mysterion…Kenny hugs me tighter, rubbing my back in comfort.

“N.K. it was only a dream.”

“It felt so real!”

“Maybe that was just your fears getting the best out of you.”, he hypnotizes. “I can promise you that I will never abandon you…I like you to much for it, even if you don’t like me anymore this way.”

A wet laugh escapes my lips.

“Silly Kenny, it’s a mess of emotions, because I STILL like you and Kyle. I’m sure Heidi knows this too and yet she told me I should stay friends with you guys. I don’t deserve her.”

Careful Kenny wipes away my tears, tutting at me.

“Now N.K. that’s too melodramatic, even for me. Why don’t you just talk with us and make a mess like this? If you don’t talk your dream will come true.”

I sniffle and Kenny hands me a tissue. I blow my nose loudly. Something like a tiny smile is on his lips.

“I love you, Kenny, I really do.”, I confess finally. “Now knowing you are just like me…it makes me love you more. You understand me. You did from the moment we meet each other as princess and mage.”

“I love you too N.K., I never felt this way for a girl. You are so important to me, please don’t push me away again.”

“Heidi…I love her too…I just…I can’t break up with her…I love her…”

The hooded boy signs, stroking my cheek.

“Babe…you know… I don’t have anything against it if you want to date Heidi still…she is a cute and nice girl…I could learn to love her too.”

…I blink rapidly at him.

Did I hear him right?

“Kenny…what do you mean?”

“I read this up on the internet. Polyamory-relationships? I would be okay with this. Don’t know how Kyle thinks about it, but if you want to date other people while we also are together I would accept it. I just…want you so much…in any way you can give me.”

My chin meets the floor.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing!

Mamma was right, I should have fucking talked with the boys before and not assumed things!

“Kenny so that you know, I would literally jump you now and make you cum with my mouth till you are dry because this makes me so happy! But we need to talk to Heidi first. She has to be okay with this too.”

I hear how he has to bit down a moan and gives me a hot look.

“You are a tease, but you are also right. Let’s talk with Heidi first thing in the morning.”

We both smile brightly at each other.

 Maybe…it really can work.

“One last thing, why did you dress up in your superhero persona to talk to me?”

“I had a feeling you would have ignored Kenny because you are also stubborn.”

“…You got me there.”

We say goodbye to each other with a hug. Back in my room, I send Heidi a text that we need to talk before school about something.

I hope she will agree to this too.

But if I have to choose between Heidi and Kenny…god this will be difficult.

God, if you love me make it go a way we all can be happy.

Me, the author, points at you, the readers: Will you hear N.K. prayer and make N.K., Heidi, and Kenny canon? Review!   

Next time on Pokemon, I mean, Chinpokemon, no wait, on Friendly Faces Everywhere the thrilling conclusion.

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[halsunisland]

Meeting The Librarian

Our first meeting with the librarian, Adam and small talk with him about nowadays issues.

I was sick past days but I’m finally back to bring more stories and topics for you.

Today, I went to one of big libraries here to read more books about this island. I also went to talk with one of librarians, Adam.

We talked about a lot of things, but he wanted to express his concerns about nowadays issues and discuss.  “The end of the world?” He wondered. “No one knows of course, I mean yes a lot of signs appeared, but there’s more, when and how they will happen, no one knows.”

He started telling his story and how he spend his life doing researches not only working as librarian.

I love searching and reading, I’m always curious how far this world has reached, crimes, morals, greed, injustice. It keeps getting worse than better and when you think you saw enough you find more, you think it’s like before dark times then good times but when you look how much people and world changed you no longer think good times will ever come back. It’s actually said before the end of the world, the world will suffer from three hard years including drought and hunger then more events which we all may think fantasy and does not make sense, hard to imagine, but they may happen and when they do happen it’s the end nothing will matter anymore, not your good work, helping others or anything, it is the time world stops and comes to its end. Everything has start and end, why would be here on this earth if it is meant to go on forever?

One of those famous signs the sun will rise from west instead of east, some of the scientist says a reversal of the planet's magnetic field will happen and is already slowly happening. Gog and Magog famous story which some believe it is just a myth.

Another about a man who’s said that he’s chained inside island or cave where no one will find him, even now that people travelled everywhere and discovered almost all lands, it seems like this place is hidden from our sight. When world forgets his story he will then come out and play as god, he will be able to bring heaven and hell, rain and fire, travel fast to deceive people who are not faithful enough or at least does not remember his story to discover his tricks. Then Jesus will come back to earth and kill him.

This seems like a fantasy story you can read in a book or watch in a movie but the world saw so many strange things over years so maybe it is real.

Anyway, I had a friend who was reading and researching all of the end of the world signs and keeping up with world events, he was even writing books about, he used to say the end is near and repeat same line almost every day, how close? He did not know but he knew it was close. Even time length change or so we think, in past we used to feel like the day is long now it seems shorter and getting shorter, maybe because life now requires more work or maybe time is shrinking over years so end seems to be getting closer but we will never know. What he did not know is that his end was near not the end of the world, he went to sleep one day and did not wake up next day. 

We all do mistakes and bad things and no one knows when the end of the world or our own end but the least we can do is trying to do something good, work hard and love each other. 

…

I thanked him for the information he’d given, I will surely meet him again later to talk about other things as well as learn more information about this island.

[slytherinsnekxvii]

let's talk about lily evans and the marauders, aka moony, wormtail, padfoot and prongs. given that i didn't use their actual names, i think you can figure out where this is going. it's also long as hell, so. canon vs fanon, marauder edition, except snek is sleep deprived.

now, before we begin, i don't dislike the marauders. or lily, tbh. if I'm being perfectly, genuinely honest, i still go back and forth sometimes but they've been growing on me for a while now. the canon versions, at least. fanon does them real dirty, and that's part of why i'm writing this, because i'm genuinely tired of it. it's an injustice.

you can at least make excuses for james and lily, who were so undeveloped that jkr practically dropped a fill-in-the-blank sheet of character information in our laps, but sirius, remus and peter were around long enough for y'all to get real acquainted with them.

in canon, sirius black is an unhinged mf. genuinely. this isn't to say he's a bad guy, in fact, we see that he's still capable of doing good things, still capable of love, still capable of all the things that prove he's actually not bad at heart, just,,, severely traumatised and very steeped in negativity from his time with the dementors. what i'm saying is that this man is absolutely, no questions asked, no holds barred demented, and how could he not be? the guy sat wrongfully imprisoned in azkaban for twelve years, a good portion of which he spent as a dog in order to protect himself from the dementors. he certainly wasn't completely insane, but you cannot tell me that he was all there. he got out of azkaban fuelled almost solely by the intent to get revenge on pettigrew, tried to commit murder in front of three witnesses who were also children—one of whom was his godson—ate rats and was also malnourished, which i'm certain did not help the situation any. this man is off his goddamn rocker, and you know what? you love to see it. good for him.

oh, but, snek, that's what he's like as an adult. what about when they were at school? before azkaban? my guy, the reaction he has to grimmauld place is not the reaction of someone without trauma. i don't believe that walburga and orion were the type to physically abuse their children, but whatever happened in that house helped to fuck him up enough that he skipped the joke of part of practical joke, and pranked snape by telling him how to meet a werewolf that he knew would be fully transformed and dangerous to humans. more than that, the werewolf was remus, whom he's friends with, and who—best case scenario—would be facing a trial if james hadn't stepped in. you can say that maybe he didn't think about or understand the gravitas of his actions, but at the end of it, that's not how properly sane people react to people they dislike, and that's not how they treat their friends. if anything, it reads like he was in the middle of a breakdown and absolutely losing his shit and he wasn't thinking at all.

my guy went through some serious shit, and was in no way completely mentally stable. we can see pretty clearly that he's got a serious dark side to him that probably would have gone unbridled had he not disagreed with his family, and yet, fanon took one look at him and went, "teehee, uwu bad boi go vroom."

fanon said padfoot is a pretty boy with nice hair who is tastefully traumatised from his horribly abusive household. sirius rides his motorcycle and plays jokes and flirts with anything that moves, but he can do no real wrong and always comes back to his soft, bookish, chocolate-loving boyfriend remus, who will laugh about his lycanthropy and quietly disapprove but secretly laugh at his friends' antics while hiding his smile in his cardigan.

respectfully, what in the absolute fuck.

i'd put that meme in here if i could, the one that's like, "well done, you've broken _______ down to its bare essentials," but no. i can't bc it doesn't even apply. this isn't a meme, it's theseus' fucking ship.

fanon broke it down, and replaced the pieces one by one until we got to this point, where we need to sit down and ask ourselves, "is this even the same character?"

the answer is no, by the way. it isn't. when people talk about woobifying characters—you know, taking away every flaw they have, romanticising everything they do and making them only capable of doing good, wonderful, lovely things?—this is what we mean.

and it'd be one thing if it was just the one character, but, no. fanon went all in and made them all squeaky clean and boring, especially peter, who draws the shortest of the straws.

remus got fucked, too. not just because fanon insists on sticking him into a relationship with sirius. which, we'll tackle wolfstar in a bit, but that's not even the worst of it. here, we have yet another example of blatant, rampant woobifying. again, is he a bad person? no. we know he's a good guy, we know he's generally kind and well-mannered, we know that he wants to fo the right thing but hey, fun fact. did you know that you can be nice and a coward? did you know that you can be benevolent and good and kindly and have the greatest of intentions and still be shady as fuck? no? ask dumbledore. the man played people like chess pieces when he needed to, and he was a twinkly grandpa. these are things that can coexist.

teenage remus is a coward who, understandably, does not stand up to his friends, likely for fear of being ostracised, and doesn't uphold his prefect duties as he should and takes part in their bullying of snape as a result. he lets them romp with him in werewolf form while they are in their animagus forms and then, he lets them continue to do so even after they have multiple close calls, which, again, had anything happened, would have resulted in a trial in the best case scenario.

grownup remus is still a coward, he tells no one that sirius can move about the school in his animagus form despite wholeheartedly believing that he's a mass murderer, he tries to run out on his wife and unborn kid. he isn't deliberately making attempts to harm anyone, but he's content to sit back and let things happen to him and around him so he doesn't rock the boat, although he is capable of action, which we see when he is more than willing to help sirius merk pettigrew in the shack. he can be careless, he runs out to the shack knowing he hasn't taken his wolfsbane and ends up transforming in front of the students he, as a teacher, is meant to be protecting. of course, this doesn't negate his good qualities, it just bears repeating that his flaws do exist, and they're pretty serious.

fanon moony is always pleasant and kind and soft-spoken and bookish, and he always has to have his chocolate. he knows when to tell off his friends, and he'll do it, even if he's secretly amused by everything they do and laughs about it with his best friend, lily evans, who coincidentally spends all her time with them so he and sirius can go on double dates with james and lily and no one has to remember peter exists.

why. theseus' ship 2.0. does the actual character still exist or is this something entirely different thing bearing the same name?

as for peter, who needs peter pettigrew, the actual, legitimate, fourth marauder when you have lily evans? canon pettigrew is opportunistic as fuck. he's latching himself to the biggest bad on the block and he's going all in. for teenage peter, that was james and sirius, and for adult peter, that's voldemort. canon peter is good enough at transfiguration to master the animagus transformation, just like his friends, and he's good enough at potions to brew the potion that gives voldemort a body. and honestly, you can't say he wasn't brave. he could've run off somewhere and died, or changed his identity or something after he faked his death and framed sirius, but, no. he goes and resurrects voldemort. that's fucked up, yeah, but it happened and honestly, i respect that it. he stuck to his guns.

fanon wormtail is lucky if he exists beyond being a spineless sycophant for james and sirius, or an evil conniving little rat who's looking to toss his entire friend group to the wolves at eleven.

of course, this isn't meant to negate his bad qualities, he still murdered people and framed sirius and sold out the potters to die, but his good characteristics do exist, and james, sirius and remus genuinely were his friends.

and now, we get to lily and james.

we have hardly any information on either of them. they're a pair of cardboard cutouts that we can paint and stick flyers to and colour outside the lines however we want. we can do whatever the fuck, as long lily is brave and smart and somewhat kind and james is brave and willing to die for his family. we were essentially handed a pair of ocs.

and yet.

what little bits of canon we have are thrown out of the window regardless.

james is privileged and rich, and he throws hexes for fun. he's willing to hex lily when she disagrees with him, and then, he goes behind her back to continue hexing snape after she believes that he's stopped doing so. and that's all we know about him until he dies for his family at twenty-one years old. once again, say it with me: this does not negate his good qualities. he definitely had them, he took sirius in when sirius ran away from home, he became an animagus to keep remus company as a wolf, and he saved snape in the shack, thereby saving remus and sirius by extension. him having flaws does not make him a bad person.

fanon prongs is a feminist. he fights for equal rights for women everywhere, and he constantly treats his girlfriend, lily, like an absolute queen. he's the hottest boy in school and everyone claps when he walks through the halls. mcgonagall and dumbledore are always patting him on the back and making jokes with him. he has a built-in dark detector that helps him sense when someone is a evil and needs to he punished.

give me a break. the dude's cool and all, but was the gary stu treatment necessary?

...oh, he needed to match fanon lily? right, right.

canon lily is a contradiction unto herself. she's supposedly a great friend, but since we see her at a point where they were already drifting apart, we see her putting little effort into keeping their friendship afloat. she victim blames based on rumours, she doesn't seem to care over much about what snape has to say about the people who have been tormenting him since day one. and she's justified, of course, she doesn't have to stick around. canon lily is a bit of hypocrite, she says that snape calls everyone of her birth mudblood, but then that begs the question why she still hangs around with him if that's the case. he calls her mudblood, she retaliates by calling him snivellus, and finishes up with a dig about his underwear, which, sure, it's kicking a man with a rusty spoon and pouring salt in the wound, but she's, again, justified. i get where she was coming from. and then, of course, she dies for her kid after marrying the guy who relentlessly bullied her quote-unquote best friend for their entire school careers. but, like i said, canon lily is, in many ways, a contradiction.

lily is basically a plot device. she pushes everyone's narrative but her own, and does little else.

of course, this trend would continue in fanon. fanon lily exists to be the perfect girl who gets really angry over the slightest injustice, and of course, she gets to be one half of one of the oldest enemies-to-lovers "it was just sexual tension" cliche pairings in the book. she's just,,, a mary sue. in so many fics, so many headcanons, she's just pettigrew's stand-in, a girl to form a gang with marlene, mary and dorcas—who happen to be more undeveloped ocs who also get the woobify mary sue treatment—to parallel the marauders. there is nothing compelling about her character when she's presented as a saint, and even less when she's supposedly the other moral compass for the marauders that doesn't actually work because she thinks that james is cute.

and this brings me to the next topic. jily. what, why, how. this was supposed to be a healthy, happy relationship that would have lasted in the long run? absolutely not. even for its time, i can't say that i see it lasting.

first of all, jkr presents james' crush on lily as just that: a crush. a mildly obsessive one, but a crush nonetheless, which she tries to liken to the pulling of pigtails. and then, we see that james' way of getting her to go out with him consists of blackmail, and when that doesn't work, he resorts to threatening her. this could have been set aside if he had actually, genuinely changed when they started spending more time together, but as we're told by sirius and remus, he didn't. he just got better at hiding what he was up to. and it has to be that he hid it, because if she knew, this further damages the character that she's set up to have and paints her out to be either unable to stand up to him or an enabler.

regardless, they get married. and while i have trouble believing that it was out of genuine love, there are scenarios that could make some semblance of sense. it's wartime, after all, and maybe lily is worried about her stability in the wizarding world, so why not marry into an established family whose son is already showing interest? or perhaps, she falls into the trap of every bad boy cliche ever, and she thinks to herself, well, i got him to be better then, maybe i can get him to do even better in the future. or maybe, she doesn't get into a relationship with him immediately and sees him on and off, until eventually, she accidentally gets pregnant and they scramble to have a shotgun wedding so as not to leave lily alone at nineteen with a baby. or maybe they marry each other because they're there and sure, neither of then is ready and they don't know what love even is but what else is there to do when there's a dark lord about? anyways, the point is, they get married.

and then what? if we count pottermore into canon, he goes on to further damage her relationship with petunia and vernon, to the point where she ends up crying. if we don't, she fades into the background enough that nobody has anything to say about her. she's harry's mum, she's james' wife, lily potter, she was kind and smart and brave and that's it. her agency is gone, anything else we have of her personality is gone.

jily just,,, wasn't built to last. and, yeah, this,,, this is a hill i'll die on.

same with wolfstar, honestly. there are so many reasons why it wouldn't work, but fanon has made it so fucking prevalent that it's literally everywhere no matter where you look.

first of all, i've said it before and i'll say it again. sirius is more likely to get with james that he is to ever end up in a relationship with remus. their chemistry is just,,, underdeveloped. net zero for a relationship.

secondly, sirius instigated the werewolf prank, and lupin would have paid the price for it. this could have been overlooked, but he doesn't seem the slightest bit guilty about any of it when it's brought up in poa. he could have been responsible for lupin losing the security of his place at hogwarts in the best case scenario, and in the worst case, his life. and he seems to look forward to full moons, even though they clearly aren't pleasant for remus, which,,, yeah, you're going to have fun, but like, maybe be concerned about the fact that your friend undergoes excruciating pain and it isn't a pleasant time for him? read the room, my g.

thirdly, they don't trust each other as much as fanon seems to think they do. they were both willing to believe each other the traitor before ever suspecting pettigrew. sirius thought remus gave away the potters, hell, he thought remus was a spy for voldemort, and remus was convinced that sirius was a mass murderer. neither of them needed to be convinced.

fourthly, maybe i'm reading too much into it, but like. sirius had money. remus had no money, since, yk, he was a werewolf and struggling for cash and still, sirius,,, did not leave him any money. i feel like if you had money to spare, you would give to your friend who is literally poor. but, again, maybe i'm reading too much into it and this isn't as valid a point as i think it is.

and ehh, the fifth reason is that it's,,, actually very much not the representation for the ltgbt community that fanon says it is but y'all aren't ready for that conversation.

anyways, just,,, even when you set the couple shit aside, the power dynamics between everyone here is fucked. like, james and sirius are clearly at the top of food chain calling the shots and egging each other on. then there's lily, who isn't even a marauder, but is always ever-so-slightly above remus but still not on their level, because, well. neither of them actually listen to her. remus is the novelty friend, the friend who's,,, alright, i guess, but you keep them around specifically because they're funny or they can dance or they have something that you can either show off to other people or keep as your little inside joke, your little secret, yk? and peter is just sort of there. like, yeah, he can do what we can but does that make him as good as we are? no. does he have a funny little something about him that we can exploit? nah. therefore he sits at the bottom. and like, yeah, james and sirius are on the same level, but james is yanking sirius' chain, not the other way around. anyways, like i said. power dynamic's fucked and it bothers me that we were given all of this, and fanon decided to take it all and throw it away so they could give us flamboyant!badboi!sirius black x softboi!motherhen!remus lupin going on double dates with feminist!trustfundbaby!james potter and saint!lily evans while ignoring peter pettiwho?

theseus' fucking ship, indeed.

anyways, this needed to be said. it might not make as much sense as i want it to, considering it's 4:12 in the morning as i'm posting this, after taking a break from writing to do some research and coming across way too much content about fanon marauders, but it's here and it still makes enough sense that you can read it and understand what i mean. and like, at the end of the day, you can go ahead and headcanon whatever you please, you can write fic and make art and do whatever you like, just,,, remember that they're exactly that. headcanons. stop presenting fanon as canon. please. i'm literally begging. we actually have evidence against it. just,,, acknowledge that they're headcanons and stop putting them forward as though they're able to fit into canon. please.

[iheartbookbran]

I personally dislike the idea of Arya leaving Westeros after the series, even if it’s years down the line, because she already did that going to Braavos and it hasn’t really solved anything for her. I think her abilities would be better used with her helping the smalfolk and protecting them, especially in the Riverlands where she’s spent so much of her arc and has seen the worst of what the nobility can do when abusing their power.

Like, from a narrative standpoint, why have her be witness of the atrocities and injustices that the lower classes have to endure because of the uncaring elites? Why have her be so outraged by it and care so much? Only for her ending up skipping off to another continent in which she’s already been to and didn’t really fix anything of her problems or gave her any peace. Instead of being with her people and in a home she’s constantly yearning for no matter how much she tries to push her desire down.

This idea that exists about Arya, as a character, being above or disconnected from the political side of the series is just such a blatant lie, else the whole Jeyne P/“F!Arya” plot wouldn’t exist. Because yes, the abuse and horror that happens in that plot are 100% about Jeyne, and it should be addressed as such. But also, it’s hard to ignore in all honesty how said plot mostly serves Theon, to add even more stakes to his journey and further his development (*gasps* sexism?? In my GRRM’s writing? It’s more likely than you think). I mean, it’s true that GRRM could have used literally any of the Stark kids (except Robb and Jon obviously) as a railing point for the Stark loyalists to gather around, but for me what makes that storyline stand out to me is precisely that Arya’s name is the one being used. Rickon being a hostage could have worked just as well if we ignore the fact that as a male heir Ramsay would’ve probably killed him in less than a day, but that didn’t happen. The reason D&D failed so spectacularly when they gave Sansa that plot (obviously besides the fact that Sansa is an important character with her own plot and journey that just got completely shoved aside because it wasn’t “interesting” enough for the show’s standards yikes) is that they only gave her the Jeyne-abuse part and not the Arya-northern conspiracy part, so it was only abuse and violence for the sake of it. And as I said, to me it is so significant that it’s Arya’s name being used as a symbol of resistance in the North because parallel to that, on another continent, we have Arya, the little girl who believes she’s not wanted, that she’s not important, who wants to disappear like a ghost and become No One because she doesn’t know how else to deal with her grief, not being aware that a whole kingdom is mobilizing itself out of, yes, love for her family, but also for her, not forgetting her name. And given that Arya’s story is so much about holding on to your identity and yourself, that’s powerful.

GRRM keeps on reminding us how much Arya matters in Westeros. Honestly her precence is everywhere. She’s present in the Riverlands where Brienne keeps on stumbling on places Arya’s been, meeting Gendry who feels so guilty about having lost her he’s frozen in one place waiting for her return, keeps getting closer to the Hound’s whereabouts who’s the last person able to confirm Arya was alive in Westeros. She’s present with the Brotherhood without Banners that are frantically looking for her with Lady Stoneheart as their leader, and of course we can’t forget that Catelyn was resurrected in the first place thanks to Arya, Nymeria and the promise Beric did to Arya. She’s present with Nymeria and her massive pack of wolves that people are taking more and more notice of. She’s present in the North as the Ned’s little girl, a key factor in why the Mountain Clans are willing to follow Stannis at all.

Arya matters so much to Jon, not as a Stark or as a symbol but as his little sister, that he almost loses his mind thinking she’s being hurt by Ramsay. Which again… it’s been said that Jon would care just the same for any of his other siblings, but that’s not even that important tbh? Because if you’re arguing that Jon loves all his siblings then the answer is yes, he obviously does, but the difference is that GRRM already spend so much page space directly telling us how much Jon and Arya love each other, how significant they are in each other’s lives, how much they miss each other, so Jon’s anguish and desperation and the emotional punch that comes with it is far greater than it would be with anybody else. We have Arya, where the only centrality she’s ever had is that Jon Snow would want her no matter what, no matter the things she’s had to do in order survive. And Jon, who wants Arya so badly he commits treason to get her back.

That’s the point, that’s why Arya, her name and the emotional bond that links her to so many people in Westeros, matters. Arya Stark matters and has impact in Westeros, and she should stay in Westeros.

[ingek73]

Progressive, except for Palestine

What starts with “P” ends with “E” and is too terrifying a word for many people to so much as mention? “Palestine”, of course! Simply uttering the P-word in a vaguely sympathetic way can be enough to elicit bad faith accusations of antisemitism. The topic has become so loaded that some people seemingly prefer to pretend Palestine and Palestinians don’t exist and just ignore the issue altogether. Nothing makes liberals abandon their progressive values, or their courage, like someone mentioning Palestine.

Vogue, I’m looking at you here. The magazine recently edited a reference to Palestine out of an Instagram post on its official social media page that was dedicated to supermodel Gigi Hadid’s pledge to donate her all her Fashion Month earnings to relief efforts in Ukraine and Palestine. Last Sunday Gigi, who is half Palestinian, announced that she was giving her earnings to “to aid those suffering from the war in Ukraine, as well as continuing to support those experiencing the same in Palestine. Our eyes and hearts must be open to all human injustice”. Vogue initially included the reference to Palestine in the post but removed it after it was accused by a number of pro-Israel voices, in very bad faith, of furthering antisemitism. After an outcry from people who pointed out that it is not antisemitic to support Palestinians, Vogue then amended the post a third time to put the reference back in.

This isn’t the first time that a Hadid has had their comments about Palestine erased on Instagram, by the way. Last year Bella Hadid posted a photo on Instagram of her dad’s US passport which listed his birthplace as Palestine. The social network quickly removed it. Why? According to Instagram the post violated “community guidelines on harassment or bullying” as well as regulations on “hate speech”. After Bella spoke out Instagram offered a few other explanations for it being removed, and then said “Whoops, it was a mistake!”

Like the Hadid sisters, my dad is a Palestinian refugee. Like the Hadid sisters, I’ve also found myself harassed and vilified for daring to suggest that Palestinians deserve human rights. (Unlike the Hadid sisters, alas, I am not a supermodel). As I’ve written previously, there is seemingly no acceptable way for a Palestinian to protest oppression or stand up for our rights.

The Russian invasion of Ukraine is heartbreaking. But I want to be very clear that standing with Ukrainians, as we all must do, doesn’t mean ignoring injustice and oppression everywhere else. It doesn’t diminish the struggles of the Ukranian people to ask questions about double standards. It doesn’t detract or distract from what is happening in Ukraine, for example, to ask why a viral picture of a small blonde girl standing up to a solider in front of a tank was celebrated when people thought that girl was Ukrainian but treated very differently when it was pointed out that the girl was actually Ahed Tamimi, a Palestinian, standing in front of an Israeli soldier.

Indeed, it is desperately important that we ask these sorts of questions. “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” Martin Luther King said. Those are not just pretty words. When you ignore international law in one area then you help weaken international law around the world. When you shrug your shoulders about oppression in one place, you help open up the doors to it in another. Solidarity is not a distraction – it is a verb.

[dredshirtroberts]

no you know what actually I do have shit to say about de-radicalization and how people on the whole (and i do include myself here, i am a people as well) need to be more compassionate towards those deconstructing their worldview and pulling away from radical/harmful ideology.

Cause y'all I don't talk about it much and so you might not know but like...

that was me.

My family is *ultra conservative* and maybe i've said that before, maybe i understood on some level how far down the rabbit hole they've become - but i didn't realize until relatively recently how fucking long it's been like this.

And how close I personally was to being just like them.

The EIB network - y'all might not know of them, but the radio network that hosted Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity and Glenn Beck? (do people even remember who Glenn Beck even is? he was everywhere when I was younger but i'm starting to realize that some of the people I grew up listening to were not big names outside of their fringe belief groups) - was the sound of summertime as a child. It was so prevalent that when my mother began homeschooling my sister and I, I would hear it and immediately think it was summertime - even in the dead of winter with snow on the ground. For years. To this day I can hear it in my head.

We mainly watched Fox News back in the day - we watched CNN and NBC for a while too. But ultimately it was Fox News where we got the majority of our information about the world at large.

I don't know much about Bill Clinton's presidency other than the Sexy Scandal because we didn't like him and no one talked about him except to say he was terrible (with no information as to why other than that he was a Democrat and all Democrats were the devil and going to steal our rights). We thought George W. Bush was going to save america.

I thought Sarah Palin was a feminist icon - though obviously we didn't need feminism because girls and boys were super equal. Racism ended in the 60s. The Civil War wasn't fought because of Slavery it was for property ownership, *obviously*. You know, like land. Because property meant land. Not *people.*

The government was terrible and should be kept out of everyone's business and if you couldn't shake it on your own, you weren't trying hard enough and the government didn't need to bail you out. Black people were lazy for not doing enough to change their station and everyone who thought racism was still a thing just hadn't listened properly when Martin Luther King Jr talked about dreams. but also that speech wasn't necessary even back then because Racism wasn't real - or if it was real it wasn't bad because stereotypes exist for a reason, you know.

My dad and mom proudly talked about their racial profiling of "'Sp*c Cars." But we never said the N-word (even though if the black people say it they shouldn't expect no one else to be able to say it).

The hardcore christian element didn't super settle in until the homeschooling years. My parents didn't own a gun until a few years ago. But we supported gun rights. The right to bear arms was integral to the constitution, the constitution was correct when the Founding Fathers wrote it and didn't need *changes*.

Trans people were just Ultra Gays and the gays didn't need rights because they were sinners and going to hell because God might love them but we didn't. Men in dresses were a joke and obviously no trans person could *really* become the gender they "claimed" to be.

Unions were useless and we definitely didn't need them anymore because they were never necessary in the first place. If you don't like your job, just leave it, you know? And don't get fussy if your boss fires you out of nowhere for an "injustice" because that just means you're looking for excuses for your bad job performance.

Women were meant to bear children and run the household and I guess you could be a business lady if you *wanted* to but like only if you also planned to have children - or had already had and raised your children. And why on earth would a man do any of the child rearing unless there was a boychild involved?

I met Newt Gingrich and got to shake his hand and that was a *bragging right*.

and all of that has been incredibly difficult to un-learn. You spend 18 years surrounded by that rhetoric, thinking that's the way the world is meant to be. You cannot just drop it and immediately switch to the "correct" way of thinking (there is no "unproblematic" political ideology in today's world right now. but that's a different rant).

I have to work extra hard sometimes to fight through those filters of bias and hatred. Because I thought my parents were *reasonable*. I didn't think they were radical my *whole* life until like...a few months ago. I thought they'd *become* radical. But...no.

No they've always been like this and I sounded like a moron trying to convince other family members that they hadn't always been that bad.

Deconstruction, de-radicalization, re-learning is *hard.* And it's *lonely*. Because when you start pulling at the threads, those who shared the blanket no longer want to talk to you, and those under the other blanket are blinded in their own hatred of your previous beliefs to help you learn.

So you have to make your own blanket by listening to how others' blankets are constructed. And you learn. And you challenge and you *fight* and it's hard.

But I'll share my blanket with you. It's cold and lonely on this journey - but it doesn't have to be. We can un-learn together. We can deconstruct our past belief systems together. We can expand our horizons and become allies with other communities as a community ourselves.

We can grow. Because where you're from might be helpful to know in battling prejudices ingrained in your since childhood, but it's not all you are. You are more than your roots and the dirt you grew up in. You're not alone. You're not the only one going through this journey.

And I'll help you if you need a blanket to rest under for the night. We're in this together. I've got your hand. Come on. <3

[tamhrayis]

Why Mikasa killing Eren is not a solution

Ideas and theories about AoT’s possible ending have been everywhere for a while and one of the most popular endings is Mikasa killing Eren, which will stop the rumbling.

No. Eren can’t control the way rumbling will go and how it will end. Ymir is, because she is the only one who can actually cause the rumbling.

But why she didn’t do a rumbling before? Well...There’re 2 answers.

Holders of Founding Titan were restricted by Karl Fritz’s vow of renouncing war, so they couldn’t use the power to change the environment created by 145th king.

Ymir possibly waited and created the perfect timeline to free herself and start the rumbling.

Okay, there’s a theory that was proposed by Ascension Anime on YT. So according to the author, Ymir created a perfect timeline so someone will free her and get revenge on the world, because of injustice and slavery that she experienced her whole life.

Because of her incapablity to be in physical world and directly change it, she needed a “tool” or someone, who will be as angry on the world as she is. That someone should have been from Attack Titan’s holders, because as Grisha described it (manga panels below).

Since the beginning, Attack Titan was created with a purpose to free Ymir herself. No other titan shifter can do such things as Attack Titan can. Even if memory transaction is a common thing between shifters, they can’t see the future memories or somehow affect the past.

So how it’s related to Eren? As we saw from chapter 121, Eren “helped” his father to steal the Founding Titan from Frieda.

By stealing the coordinate, not being from royal family and having a stong will to destroy the world, Ymir “created” a perfect “tool” to free herself and get revenge on the world. Since the beginning of the series, when Eren hasn’t inherited Attack Titan and Founding Titan yet, he saw his future memories as the long dream. As it was discovered later, Dina (Smiling Titan) didn’t eat Bertholdt, who was right in front of her, but went inside and ate Carla, which caused Eren to develop his hatred towards the world. Later on, many occasions just added extra reasons to start the rumbling, which eventually leaded Eren to “free” Ymir and become the person he is today.

So what do all of these things mean? It means that killing Eren won’t stop the rumbling and the only way to do so is to stop Ymir herself. I think that it’ll happen since Zeke and Armin are inside of the paths and they will somehow find a way to change Ymir’s mind (chapter 136).

Both Armin and Eren wanted freedom to see the outer world. But their views on freedom have been different since the beginning. Armin views freedom as an opportunity to discover new things and learn, while Eren thinks that freedom is where no one can bother him and there’re any enemies. Eren’s view is very similar to Ymir’s, because in her case, everyone wanted to exploit her for their own benefit. This also happened to Eren, because military used him as a tool to understand titans’ nature, close the hole in Shiganshina and etc. But of course Eren’s situation was far better than Ymir’s.

From moral perspective, killing Eren might be a solution, since he has committed many violent acts and millions of people have died because of him. But will it bring justice to the world? It’s debatable, because Eren is not an one-sided villain. He is regretting what he did and surely will do after being stopped. He is irredeemable as a villain, but there’s an another thing. He is doing this to save his friends and unite people so they will fight together against the villian. Even now warriors and SC united together to stop the rumbling. He is letting go his human side to become that inhuman monster. Because of his violent actions Marleyan Eldians are redeeming themselves (for ex. Gabi and Karina). Magath, who exploited Eldian soliders and turned them into titans also understood that he was wrong.

Eren is both a hero and a villian. Mikasa killing Eren won’t redeem him, because he is not 100% evil and his actions are bringing something good to this world. But as a massive murderer killing him might bring justice on victims’ side. Eren is both cruel and beautiful as the world itself.

He is the person, who showed both beauty and cruelty of the world to Mikasa. And killing him for her will be quite hypocritical, since it will be contradictory to her own views on life. I believe that she will safe Eren from himself as she always tried to do and as Grisha said to Mikasa in ‘Lost Girls’:

Even if Eren wants to die the end, she will try to safe him, because in our case...cruelty is not a solution.

Cruelty was the main reason why many people suffered and why titans exist in the first place. If someone actually cared for Ymir and showed Eren that he is a human that deserves to be loved, these things wouldn’t happen.

Cruelty won’t resolve this issue, but understanding and love will.

[peninkwrites]

For the ask game 18 and 26!

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

Okay. I think one of the unique things about writing for the dsmp is that because chat exists, I already have a silent role in this story. When I write fics, I am writing what is happening to them. I am not them. I am a witness who might mourn with them, but I'm always in the scene in a very specific way.

Although, to be fair, there are moments. Think the Wilbur line about life being about more than suffering, life meaning something. The hysterical creation in Limbo once they had a chance. Tubbo hoping with all he has and furious at injustice. Ranboo making soup– and no I am not kidding I think one of the greatest expressions of caring is making food for someone when you don't know how else to help them.

Those are always mindsets I want to be a part of. So I don't regret it. And I don't really leave, more so I just let it fade, y'know?

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

This is SUCH a good question and I have the EXACT scene from chapter 34 of tddd! I'll put it under the cut bc it's long, but my thoughts will go up here:

Okay. This scene is the emotional vulnerability of talking on a rooftop that you’re not supposed to be on. That's the only way I can translate it. It is the feeling of being young and laying on the top floor of a parking garage with someone you love when you feel like the world cannot understand you. That Feeling.

Wilbur and Tommy talking on Tommy’s railway above the trees.  The act of your legs swinging over a precipice but still feeling safe, of laying back on cool stone and looking up at stars and somehow that sight makes the ground comfortable enough to stay there for hours and for some reason whatever is spoken in that space will become something precious and even in the morning when you’ve forgotten the exact words you still remember how it felt to lay beside someone you love and feel like things are gonna be alright because you’re there together and that means something and nothing will ever feel exactly like this again.

This scene was always going to happen, the dialogue at least, but when I started writing, I had Tommy sit on the ledge and lay back and Wilbur sit beside him and that feeling was just. Everywhere. And I ran with it. That very specific feeling of being both young and so world weary and so willing to be a part of the world at the same time. Yeah.

“Fucking hell,” Tommy huffs.  His cane clatters to the ground, he sits, legs swinging off the path, the trees below swirling in the breeze.  “Sit with me.  And we'd better tell Tubbo we’ll be late for dinner, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Wilbur sits beside him, not quite touching shoulders.  He puts the guitar case down carefully on his other side.  He can’t resist a bit of comfort in the sight of the trees below.  Every time he remembers the world is living and breathing around him is a relief.

“So.  You talk about Limbo, I talk about Dream,” Tommy reiterates, waiting like he’s expecting something to happen from that.

“Easier said than done,” Wilbur sighs, leaning back, arms supporting him and palms pressed to the cobblestone.

“A lot of things are easier said than done,” Tommy says mockingly.

“Maybe we’re… Maybe we’re meant to start with something else?” Wilbur offers.

“We talk about something else to talk about the thing we’re supposed to be talking about?” Tommy scoffs.

“Well, what do you suggest, then?”

“Dunno,” Tommy shrugs.  “I’d rather talk about something good.  Not just… dig into the fucked up shit.”

“Something good?”

“Yeah.”  A pause.  “Don’t look at me, I don’t know what the fuck that’d be.  I’ve spent the last year begging for my life in a prison cell, remember?”

“I spent the last decade with no one to beg to.”

Tommy hits Wilbur’s shoulder with his own.  “Fucking show off.  Come on, then.  You’re the one who’s good with words and shit, right?  Tell me something good.”

Wilbur laughs, thinking.  These past weeks, he’s spent so much time just feeling and taking at all in.  He’d spent less time thinking.  He’s alive again.  The question from his first dawn back returns, still unanswered.  Now what?

“We’re not here just to suffer.  Being alive is meant to be worth something.  I don’t feel that way just yet, but I refuse to let myself think that it’s not.”  Coming from Wilbur, those words feel like a precious, breakable thing.

Tommy gives him a funny look, surprised and maybe almost impressed, but there’s something jaded there too.  “Yeah?  Where was this attitude in Pogtopia?”  He says it scathingly.

A moment of pause, Wilbur staring at him, taken aback by his daring.  This could end in bitterness, in resentment.  From either of them.  Instead Tommy laughs, barking and sharp, and Wilbur can’t help but laugh too.

“Right, then.  You got me there, I’ll admit it,” Wilbur shakes his head.  “I guess we’re at the point where laughing about that shit only makes sense, huh?”

“Now here you go with this bloody fucking optimism, those Ghostbur bits really worked wonders on you…” Tommy scoffs.  A pause, that moment of ease fading with the sun as it begins to brush the distant treeline.  Tommy’s lip trembles for a moment before his expression turns to something more grim.  His gaze remains locked on the horizon, jaw tense.  The sky has turned orange and pink again.  He gets tired of a lot of things since being back, the world overwhelming all the time, but he never gets tired of the sunsets.  “I have spent so much time fighting to believe that too.  That the world is worth it– And maybe it is, Wil.  I’d believe that.  I’d believe the world is… is worth living in.  It’s just… it’s harder to believe I can do this.  That… that I’m alive enough to live in it.  That I’m not just some corpse wiggling around in a live body.  And it was fucking hard before Dream ruined me, so now it’s just– Fuck,” Tommy lays back on the path, hands covering his face.

Wilbur spends too long trying to process those words.  “Dream didn’t…” Wilbur’s chest aches as he looks back at Tommy, at his hands on his face, at the finger missing from his left hand, a physical representation of what happened to him, a microcosm in an ocean of suffering.  “He didn’t ruin you, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” Tommy sighs, uncovering his eyes.  “You don’t get to be the one to say that, alright?  You don’t–” Tommy thinks back on another conversation, explaining to Tubbo that his Tommyinnit stayed gone.  “You don’t get to decide what survived of me.”

“I– Yeah,” Wilbur concedes reluctantly.  “I don’t.  I just…”  Another pause.  He sighs, laying back beside Tommy.  “I’ve got nothing I can say that’ll change your mind.”

“Well spotted.  Sharp as a tack, you are.”

“But let me try anyway, alright?” Wilbur says with weak irritation.  “Something survived of you, right?  Who else would I be talking to right now?  So… as long as this bit of you is here, you can…  It’s like New L’Manberg.  You all built that beautiful thing over the mess I made.  So, you rebuild, right?”

“How poetic,” Tommy tries to stay jaded and harsh, but that had done the trick.  Wilbur had brought L’Manberg into things, and that always makes a difference.  Tommy feels a lump in his throat, the clouds above blurred by tears.  “I tried to kill myself again, you know.  I properly did.  After I got saved and everything.  Not knowing if Dream would be able to fix it and I tried– I tried to–”

“Yeah, I know.”

Tommy turns to look at him sharply, surprised, almost defensive.

Wilbur just looks sad.  “I could feel it.  You getting closer, same way I felt it last time.”  A pause.  “It was because of me, wasn’t it?” Tommy doesn’t answer, but silence from him says enough.  Wilbur nods, as if replying to that unspoken confirmation.  “I am… so sorry, Tommy.”

“Don’t be sorry.  You didn’t choose to stay gone.”

“Yeah, but it’s like you said, isn’t it?  I chose to leave,” Wilbur shoots back sharply.  He sighs.  “I know we’ve already been through that bit.  In Limbo.  But I just…”  A pause, Wilbur looking up at the darkening sky instead of over at his brother.  “I couldn’t do better then and now I can.  So I promise you, Tommy.  We’re going to make it.  You and I, we owe it to each other.”

Tommy stares at him, and if Wilbur had been looking, he would’ve seen that old glow in his eyes of a boy who would have followed him anywhere, who believes him.  Tommy sees how much has changed and for once it doesn’t scare him.  Wilbur promising him hope, the same promises Tommy had given him back in Pogtopia.  The difference is, Tommy is going to listen.  Tommy is going to live.

[biot08]

Abstracted

(Shadowbringers spoilers)

The first one hadn’t been so bad.

Its aether had flowed into her, and it had given her skin a bit of a tingly feeling. Rather like being out in the cold too long, or perhaps like hitting that one spot in her elbow.

Not great, but easily manageable.

The second one had been a little worse. Now there was a slight pressure under her skin everywhere, and a weird feeling in her joints that she could only describe as ‘humming’.

And the entire time, Emet-Selch had been nearby, providing his commentary, providing his history, and occasionally even being helpful.

He helped bring Y’shtola back. A minor thing to him, a major thing for her. So he was tolerated, even entertained at points.

Until that fateful moment.

The last Lightbringer had been rather too much, far too much. And when the possibility of relief had been made, Emet-selch had ensured it was stolen away, and that she would be left here, like this.

He had told her, again and again, that she was nothing; less than nothing. That he did not view her as alive. That he viewed her existence as a mockery of life.

She should have kept a closer eye on him, been more wary of the inevitable betrayal. After all, it made sense. He was immortal; she was not. He could afford to play any game he wished, knowing he would always be the one to make the last move.

But now she was here, and the Light aether was threatening to snuff her out, once and for all, and replace her with something else, something worse, a terrible monster that would threaten the First and by extension the Source.

Her skin felt as though it would burst outward like an overfill sausage at any moment. Her nerves were all cold and afire, rather like frostbite. Her vision was full to white.

And now he was monologuing.

Insult and injury.

“You are a mistake. For we who have known perfection, the shattered Source and these shards are ghastly mockeries of the true world. The ephemeral lives you exalt are pale imitations, utterly devoid of meaning.” he’d said.

“Fool. Who are you? No one. Nothing.” he’d said.

“Weary wanderer! You’ve no fight left to fight! No life left to live!” he’d said.

And now she was collapsed on the floor, in a puddle of Light, watching as the world faded to white, motes of it drifting by her vision, a roaring in her ears.

She watched the motes drift upwards, and turn reddish. She heard the roaring die down, to snaps and pops and crackles. The ground beneath her continued to shift to white, but the white seemed to clear from the rest of her vision. She rolled onto her back to gaze up into a sky full of stars, and took a deep breath.

The snaps and pops and crackles continued. A source of fire, and heat. She turned her head, and saw a campfire. Across from her, she saw a hooded figure sitting on a log.

She recognized the form this time.

An ancient.

She propped herself up on one arm, and frowned, looking across at the Ancient. It turned its masked face towards her, and somehow, she could tell, she could just feel, that it was smiling. It was a feeling of genuine warmth. Of kindness. Of a kind of love and care.

She took several deep breaths, coughing a few times, before sitting up.

They were in the middle of a vast white powdery expanse. Above them, the sky was thick with stars. The horizon stretched infinitely in every direction. She saw the edge of a mighty sun slip behind it.

“I’ve been here before,” she said. “I… I remember.”

The hooded figure- the Ancient- simply nodded.

The fire continued to crackle and burn, giving off a pleasant heat. She looked around more, seeing little else in the plain. Some logs for sitting on. The sharp shadows cast by her and the Ancient. Some stars drifted lazily down from the heavens, settling to form vague ghostly impressions just beyond the little campsite, visions that refused to resolve even as she looked at them.

They were growing closer.

She looked to the Ancient.

“…am I… you?” she asked.

“Of a sort,” the Ancient replied in their language. She liked listening to them. They had a musical cadence to their speech. She leaned back on her arms.

“Aren’t you long passed?” she asked.

“Of a sort,” the enigmatic being responded again. She sighed.

She was tired. Surely being dead wasn’t meant to be exhausting.

“I am… sorry,” she said. “I have failed you. I think you’ll need to find a new Warrior of Light.”

“You think so?” the Ancient responded. “I think you have done splendidly. But in any case, the path you walk, we walk together.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she didn’t. Around her, the vague ghostly impressions beyond the campsite continued to get closer, and some of the began to come into focus.

The vague pale haze around each of them reminded her of the flood of ‘heroes’ she had had to fight on her way to get this far, but as each of them resolved a little more clearly, she felt as well as saw them for who they were.

She saw a younger version of herself settle down on one of the logs. Another one of her stood behind that one, dressed in some kind of sharp looking uniform with clean lines; a style she didn’t recognize. Another, dressed in a suit that looked to be some form of magitek.

More and more, some more like her, some less like her, coming forward and taking their seats.

“Are these all… us?” she asked.

“Every one,” the Ancient replied.

“So the vision from earlier… the one who became a dragon kin?”

“And the one who cried at the injustice of the Inquisition.”

She pointed. “Flew a weird machine.”

The Ancient nodded at another one. “Held the line.”

The fire continued to crackle, and more gathered in.

She saw one in particular. “…the one who I saw stand up for that young child.” she said, flatly.

That memory in particular was a sore one for her.

The Ancient nodded directly at her. “…and the one who learned something powerful about herself that day.”

She watched them for a bit, taking slow, careful breaths. She saw them bump into each other, greet each other, talk to each other; she could see them, but could not hear them, could not quite interact with them. They were there, but to her, they were not quite real. Abstractions of what it was to be herself.

Abstractions of what it was to be real.

She looked to the Ancient.

“How many of them are there?” she asked.

“Countless. There are many of you, as if stars in the sky. You, and others like you, and others not like you, and others not at all you.”

She saw a particularly odd looking one, short, with longer ears, and a strange flat disc-like hat that seems rather too large. And many of them did not appear to be Elezen at all.

And there was more, always more.

“They’re just… echos. Of you.”

“Perhaps.”

“…Echo. Hah. It seems obvious, in retrospect.”

That feeling from the Ancient again. Of a smile. Of that irrepressible kindness born of love.

She looked at the fire, and felt a deep sadness.

“That’s why he hates us, isn’t it. We really are just pale imitations to him.”

“Are you?”

She looked to the Ancient quizzically.

“Think about it. You may be made of the same stuff as me, but so is everything in existence. Everything is made of aether, is it not? That the same parts are used over and over again do not make the same thing.”

She considered the fire again. “…I think he thought I was you.”

“Of course he would. If you take a board from a house and use it another, can you not see the original marks on the board? The places where nails were before, the staining of age already upon it? That does not make the new house the old.”

“…it also doesn’t make the old house entirely new.”

“Ah, but here the analogy falls apart. The fault is mine. Because houses do not have experiences, and certainly, do not build new houses.”

She swept her gaze around to the other apparitions. They were a veritable crowd, now.

So many possibilities.

She wondered how many of them failed.

“Not as many as you would think,” the Ancient said.

She looked to the Ancient, then back outwards.

“Are they real?” she asked.

“As real as you. As real as anything. Let me pick a better analogy for this next explanation. Each of you… are a voice. A voice in a chorus. A chorus that tells a story. Your voices echo, and resonate with each other. One voice is a quiet sound in a vast room, but all of your voices together form a beautiful song that reaches out to the ends of existence itself. Every voice is needed in the choir. Some will falter, yes. Some of them already have. But so many do not. So many raise their voices, ever stronger. Each is real. Each is necessary.”

“A chorus.”

“Yes.”

She watched the fire for a bit.

“… what about Ardbert? Is he… part of my choir?”

“Not yet. But close. As you have learned about his companions, as you have learned about him, as you have learned about his story - your songs have grown closer. Your song is now part of his, and his now part of yours. You are harmonizing. Keep that in mind.”

“… I will.”

She watched the fire. It seemed to be growing brighter.

“…but wait. If we are a song, a chorus… then what happens… it’s a combination of all of our experiences, isn’t it?”

The Ancient looked directly at her then, and seemed to sit up a little straighter, lean forward a little closer.

“If I fail… someone else might not. If I succeed, then in a way, we all succeed. It’s not just me. It’s… it’s all of us.”

“And all of your friends, and those who are not yet, and others besides.”

“And you say it forms a song. A song… and… it transcends boundaries, doesn’t it? I may not hear it, but I am part of singing it, and all realities know it.”

The Ancient was nodding now, enthusiastically. “Yes, yes!”

“So it’s not just me. That’s what you’re trying to show me. You’re trying to show me… how much bigger you’ve become, how much more you are, how much we - “

She paused. A thought occurred. She looked at the ancient, and blinked a few times.

“I am not an echo of you. You… you’re long gone. But you’re the memories of what it was to be you. You’re... you’re…”

The Ancient nodded, holdings its hand together, leaning so far forward it looked to be about to fall into the fire.

“…you’re an echo of me. Of us. Of our shared experiences!”

The Ancient stood to its feet then, clapping.

Zoissette suddenly understood, and she flopped to the ground on her back, arms spread, laughing, laughing, laughing so it hurt, laughing so she cried.

She looked at the stars, and despite her sudden feeling of smallness, she felt grander than she ever had. And as she looked, the apparitions of all of her possibilities stood around her, and they drifted back up into the sky as stars.

Stars growing ever brighter.

The fire grew louder, and its flames licked higher.

The sky began to turn white with the brilliance of it star-like tapestry.

“I understand now,” she said, quietly.

She rolled over, gently, as the world went white. The weight in her limbs returned. The pressure behind her skin began to press out again. The pain drifted back into her awareness, and she struggled to try to push herself to her feet, and she grinned grimly at a ground she could no longer see.

She might die here.

She might fail here.

This might be the end.

And she thought of her friends, the Scions, behind her, and all they had done.

She thought of her friends on another world.

It would be alright.

This would be a good death.

But she would not go quietly into that night.

And then, she heard a voice.

“If you had the strength, to take another step… could you do it? Could you save our worlds?”

She looked up to see a man who had been her companion nearly since she had stepped foot on this world, and she smiled at him, and accepted his offer to join his voice to hers.

~~~

Emet-Selch watched as the so-called Warrior of Darkness - Warrior of Light, what a joke that was now - writhed on the ground like a worm as the Light overtook her. He had to shield his eyes as a brilliant pillar of light shot up and pierced the heavens, threatening to blind him.

Surely this was it. Surely this was the moment of triumph, the transformation completing, his plans come to fruition.

The end of a burden.

“This is not yours to end…this is our future. Our story,” said a voice that was familiar to him.

Emet-selch looked to the Light, and he saw… an imagine of one of his brethren. A familiar figure, in familiar robes.

“No… it can’t be.” he said, staggering back.

The light faded, and in its place, he saw Zoissette. She was standing tall, strong. Looking straight at him, with an expression of… was that pity?

“Bah, a trick of the light. You are a broken husk, nothing more!” he spat.

She inclined her head at him, with a slight tilt.

“You may be immortal, I have experienced infinity in ways you never can,” she said. “Until you are let go and in turn can let go.”

He clenched his fist, and fair trembled with rage.

“How can you hope to stand against me alone?” he seethed.

“We stand together!” another voice chimed in.

Together, Zoissette thought.

She looked up at the stars, and smiled.

She understood.