#while knowing this is how most people live & i'm just not up for it like my body cannot handle even just this

[ohnoitstbskyen]

"If they introduce either of them, I hope they are straight up villains. I am tired of Jesus Was A Nice Guy Actually interpretations of that particular prophet, it lets Christianity off the hook far too easy."

That is certainly a challenge because, just as Tv Tropes explains in their page for "Jesus Was Way Cool" (a.k.a: this trope), he is God in human form who routinely mingled with and was willing to forgive those who were considered outcasts even to the church primarily through the pen and not the sword

9 times out of 10, you will look like a asshole because you're demeaning what might essentially be the most universal "Greatest Of All Time" to ever exist

See this is the shit I'm talking about. It's this shit right here. I am so tired of this exact thing.

"Jesus was so nice" he was a cult leader who claimed to have the divine power to define and forgive human sin, and you live in a culture which is pathologically obsessed with worshipping him, even while the religion he founded has slaughtered and persecuted untold millions of people over the course of two thousand years in his name.

I'm not particularly atheistic as a person, but I feel vomit well up in my throat when people uncritically and without a hint of irony take it as Literal Gospel that Jesus Was Nice Actually, and that it would somehow be unfair to him to use him in fiction to embody literally any of the bad things that his religion has done.

I dunno man, maybe the apocalypse cult leader's eschatological teachings are partly to blame for how the followers of his religion obsess over sin and purity in the eyes of God? Maybe his claim to be an instrument of universal divine justice on Earth is partly to blame when his followers abuse and murder non-Christians as enemies of that divine justice?? Maybe some of the things Jesus said and did have a causative impact on how the followers of his teachings behave??

But no, I'm just talking crazy talk here. Everyone knows that the things Jesus said and did can never be to blame for any bad thing that Christians do, but they can always be credited for all the good things that Christians do.

Only the good things, because Jesus Was Nice. He was the universal Greatest Of All Time. It says so on tv tropes dot org

[capsensislagamoprh]

"You know," she said as I turned the corner, "you're dangerously close to something."

"Is it your liver?" I asked, pressing my knife in deeper.

"Not quite. Good thing too. The god of medicine is a buddy, and pal, he do get mad when I show up with random holes I didn't previously have."

I admit, I was taken aback. "Say what now?"

"Oh yeah. Lives over on 3rd and Pine."

"There's a god. Living on 3rd -"

"And Pine, yeah. So anyway," she smiled, dusting off her robes. "I work for the messenger god - fabulous health care, pension, I mean how could I not? He says to watch it. You're dangerously close."

"To what?"

"Becoming one."

"I'm going to need clarity." Perhaps demanding was a strong word, but it was heavily implied I should put away my knife as she pushed her rather pointed boot into my groin in the most unpleasant manner.

"That should help."

By the time I recovered enough for the letter she'd dumped on me to stop swimming through my vision, she and her burgundy trench coat were gone.

Three hours latter there was a knock at my door. The sun set and so did my senses. She was back with pizza and a twelve pack. By the time I'd decided I was to intrigued not to let her in, my small apartment was full of people literally crawling in through the fire escape. Except that one guy who walked in through the closet door like it was Tuesday. There were more than a dozen of them taking over my living space, raiding my fridge. One guy pulled out things I *knew* weren't in my fridge. All I could think was 'what is happening'?

"So, you're the new kid," a particularly buff old gentleman with the sort of beard one can only describe as a cloud said as he sipped from an IPA, bright eyes taking me in. "Interesting."

I was so off put all I could say was, "What?"

"Don't mind him. He's new," said the messenger's assistant, divesting her burgundy coat. "So new he doesn't know what he's done yet."

The room stopped. Glances were exchanged. "At all?" asked one particularly colorful being, his heart shaped shades some how clashing violently with his Hawaiian shirt and cacky shorts while completing the image at the same time. She set down the six pack and grinned.

By the next morning I knew what I did. I knew what I'd done. And I knew what I was in for.

Old gods exist, sure. Saw a few myself last night. (Don't ask the guy in the loud shirt to take off his glasses. Just an F.Y.I.) But so do new ones. They exist for a thousand little things. And they have a portfolio or radius. Mine? I'm the 'generous god'. The giver. Some praise me by words. 'What a lucky day!' Some sigh in relief or look confused and pleased. But what matters is that they have started talking. And I have become.

Right now I am an urban legend. If I keep doing what I am, I will become part of the fabric of this place. And from there I can gain power, followers, more. If that's something I desire.

It comes with perks. Immortality based on gathered belief and those who warship - even if warship isn't in a structured temple thing - and the ever present stuck-at-the-age-I-am-now-forever bit. The down side? Power comes and goes. You do tend to out live everyone else. It leads to a tight net community of small gods. And they will randomly show up on your couch to crash for a few days.

But the thing they thought was great was that I came with my own built in set of moral codes. Most people have a hard time not letting power like this go to their heads. That's why they seem immortal in life but die tragic or forgotten. I'm not Robbin Hood. I'm not a saint. I'm a new god. A small player on a cosmic stage.

I think I'll grab a couple of friends and film them handing out flowers to people to make their day. You have to start your following somewhere. Might as well do with with a smile. We'll get coffee on the way.

You’re a rogue with enough gold to last ten lifetimes. But old habits die hard—you sneak through crowds, slipping coins into people’s pockets. The kingdom is buzzing about the mysterious, generous "thief."

[missconchshell]

I loved this new episode of Miraculous! Oh my gosh, I didn't even realize it was coming out, but I'm so happy it did!

I've never been too too attached to either Marc or Nathaniel, but this episode really won me over! It was neat getting to see both of their parents, and show just how much of a difference unconditional support can make. It really reminded of just how lucky I am that my own parents are so accepting.

I also love the contrast in the setting as well, with Nathaniel's family physically further apart, while Marc and his parents are all bunched together on the same couch. I feel like the show has been putting in a lot more care into framing and the setup of scenes this season, and I'm all for it!

Also, this is one of the first times I've seen their new designs up close, and I'm a huge fan! Love all the little details, like Marc's eye makeup, Nathaniel's self-painted shoes and his wavy little hairclip. Just look at the happy boy!

Now, onto the meat of the episode. Nathaniel's passions (and by association himself) being rejected by his parents did get me to tear up. It hurt and felt so real, I'm amazed to see this sorta thing in a show like Miraculous.

I felt so bad watching him destroy his work and try and force himself to conform to his parents' expectations. It was a very realistic picture of this type of struggle, and is definitely something I and I'm sure many others have struggled with before. And I was shocked at how blunt the writers got with the implied homophobia with lines from his mom about making Nathaniel "go straight."

Then once it got onto the mom being named Ruler, I just kinda started laughing, like, oh, they weren't gonna be subtle at all!

And dang Lila, willing to even use homophobia to get those miraculous. Tsk tsk.

The Akuma's power was definitely pretty creepy, like I hate these eyes so much, but Lila got really dang close to getting those miraculous this time, far more than any of Gabe's minion-based akumas! And despite this being the billionth time Chat Noir's been controlled, the physicality of the animation and voice acting did a decent job of making it funny.

It was also neat that the Akuma's powers got to be used against them, with Nathaniel finally stepping forth and taking back control from his mother (side note: I loved his transformation literally having him come out of the closet, the animators knew exactly what they were doing).

I know I've ignored them most of the episode, but I will say that Marinette and Adrien were adorable as usual! And I love that he feels comfortable enough with her to tease!

Then there was the ending. I'm so glad Nathaniel's parents came to accept his love of comics (and Marc). It was a sweet moment of acceptance that not everyone is lucky enough to have, so I'm glad we at least got a happy ending here.

I also really appreciate that little serious moment at the very end. I was expecting more Lila dialogue when the ominous music started playing, but having a serious moment where they discuss how they're attacked simply living their lives was a sad but pleasant surprise. It's cool that they're acknowledging a reality that so many people face every day. But I'm so glad these boys have each other in this!

And even if I know for a fact that the identity reveal is going to blow up in their faces one day based on the show's history, it still was so adorable and I loved the scene! Just the joy on each of their faces, knowing they're not alone, was so sweet!

Overall, I'm just really impressed with the writers this season! They're tackling a lot more serious topics in these one-off episodes, and honestly doing it far better than I ever expected from this silly love-square show. So many of these stories have resonated with me, and it's been really neat getting to see so much representation of different struggles. And it's especially cool to think about how these episodes could meaningfully impact the show's younger audience as well! These are the sorts of things I wish I saw more of growing up, it would have changed little miss shell's world for the better. So, keep up the good work Miraculous Team!

[elliesglock]

okay so i'm gonna preface this by saying, i haven't wrote an analysis for a bit so im sorry if im a little rusty but im trying to rebuild my masterlist. hope you guys enjoy, happy reading 💕 always remember to lmk anything i forgot as well!

the lives starts off with aubrey and crackhead kk just doing shit. just being bad. they're giving a dorm tour and decide to go to another dorm where everybody's kinda hanging out.

when they walk in, immediately ines comes firing saying kk and aubrey are assholes. which says to me that none of the people in the dorm they're walking into know they're on live. therefore, azzi clarifies with kk and aubrey if they "are still on live" because for reasons i will get in soon she wants to make sure she ain't going to say nothing incriminating. as soon as kk sets her phone down she goes in the back kinda whispering to azzi which brings me to my theory (it's kinda not a theory cause it gets confirmed later) that this entire live azzi is on ft with paige. azzi kinda calls kk over and kk realizes she's on the phone w her girl. this is able to spearhead mission annoy tf out of azzi with aubrey and rope in paige while they do it. will explain in a sec as well. they whisper and act super completely normal (spoiler they don't but they think they do). azzi has her laptop opened and is shopping? with ines for something but ig ines is being indecisive cause this whole live she keeps giving options for things and ines can't figure out what she wants. i just find it funny in general that pazzi are literally 8 inches from each other and STILL facetiming. like personally im not doing that with my friends id just text them. now this might be delusional but theres a moment where the comments see azzi and they're like ohhh she's so pretty! and kk points this out and tells azzi they said you're so pretty...and yall why i lowkey hear paige flying off the seat of her pants on facetime jealous as hell. now this alone really wouldn't convince me she was talking but everyone's reactions are lowkey so not nonchalant cause why kk hooting and hollering saying "ohhhh!!" and giggling as soon as i hear paige's voice? girl what was she saying? she was cussing some little twelve year olds out huh? what also convinces theyre on facetime is the fact that azzi is talking and holding up a conversation while everyone around her is not talking. so obv if no one is talking back to her that we can hear she's having a conversation on her phone. most likely with paige. i lowkey think paige is helping azzi out with whatever ines wants or is doing, because there's moments you can hear paige talking while everyone has their mouths closed. like look at them helping their first born pick out her outfits aweeee.

now when they turn this game on it starts getting chaotic as hell so just bear with me. i'm trying to listen to background convos while these mfs got their tv on 85 burning the paint off the walls so. during about 17:55, it's silent enough to hear FOR SURE paige is on the phone. she says something about glasses and we know how her minnesota ass says glasses. which tells me that that whole time azzi was helping out ines paige was in the conversation too. now what they were doing i have no idea. now, i think the shopping or studying or whatever was happening near azzi is done, everybody disperses and moves or leaves.

now rhis next part blows the fuck outta me 😒 a comment asks, "where's paige?" to which kk answers "minding her business!" immediately you hear azzi in the back go paige! and it almost sounds like she's saying it to her phone and she lowkey sound irritated like why is anybody bringing up my girl. kk and aubrey catch this tone and decide yeahhhh it's time to troll tf outta her rn. aubrey kinda makes a teasing remark to azzi like, "yeah where is she?" hinting at the fact azzi is on the phone with her and knows EXACTLY what's she's doing and where she is. aubrey is doing that annoying friend thing where she's maybe teasing azzi for being on the phone with her girlfriend and trying to be sneaky about it. now i think azzi over the teasing cause aubrey asks to say hi to paige on the phone (basically confirming that paige was on the phone the whole time) and azzi says, "i'll twist your knee into the thing!" before handing the phone over to her. aubrey gets the phone from kk and blows an air kiss to paige. she watches the phone and you can hear paige whispering. i personally think she's asking what azzi is doing or how she's acting. cause aubrey immediately looks up at azzi and smiles like she knows paige is trying to see if azzi's mad at her. and then aubrey, not giving up on the teasing, says "i told you i miss you man!" really loud into h the phone, immediately looking up to watch az's reaction. i think they tryna tease azzi but acting like azzi and paige do on the phone. but personally that's just how i read the situation and in my head i feel like that's what their behavior is showing me. now aubrey hand the phone off talking about "im being a menace" which girl we know but you better be careful around big az like im scared for you and even more scared for paige....

so kk and aubrey are talking about being menaces and paige sounds like she says, "what's she doing?" and they most likely flip the camera around. aubrey wiggles her eyebrows almost like paige is watching azzi and she knows she being extraaaaaa heart eyes central today. and in my humble petty opinion i bet azzi flips off the camera or says something and they all start laughing and gasping. but this parts iffy, paige could also be saying "ofc you do". now this next part is CRAZY ASF i think this is probably something you could use to convince deniers paige and azzi are together. so there's a comment that pops up that says "aww her girl otp" obviously implying azzi's on the phone with her girl. aubrey reads the comment and goes beserk and starts laughing and pointing it out to kk. kk giggles showing paige. we know she shows paige because her no survival instincts head ass goes, "yeah kk's girl on the phone." this is around the time azzi comes running up to the phone asking what the comment said. now this live we get some juicy juicy jealous/pouty azzi and she lowkey sounds like she's mad as hell. so paige and azzi are bickering back and forth cause u know she just gonna dogpile on azzi when she's pouty cause she, for one, has no self preservation skills and 2 she likes when her girl gets mad at her (kinky ass). paige being a lil sassy masc on the phone huffing and puffing mocking azzi and she says "take a break." to which paige replies, "take a big break!" in that sassy little tone of hers. i think she can recognize azzi's pouty and moody and doesn't like being made fun of so she's having fun watching her get all upset when she teases her. poor azzi girl i know when my girl teases me when im already about to jump and fly off the handle it makes me soooooo irritated but at the end of the day thats the good stuff. im sure they would rather be annoying each other all day than be apart and that's just the truth. kk makes fun of everybody asking for paige by saying its "pilates bueckers" and that's azzi's "cousin"

and it's so funny to me because if they were GENUINELY JUST FRIENDS they would not react the way they do. they'd be laughing adding onto the joke like they do with everything else but they don't. azzi most likely makes a fun and is like ewwww and paige goes "you sick." mostly because who tf wants to be called your gf's cousin? yuckkkk. now paige spends a minute just flaming the audience for no good reason other than she getting a ki off of annoying everyone on planet earth atm ig. so paige got some guac on ft and these hungry hungry girls see it and say oooo we wanna go downstairs and get some. azzi immediately stops what she's doing and is like im gonna come down there too in this threatening ass voice. now here's my theory. paige and azzi were talking about having a movie night on the phone you can hear them. so obviously azzi is gonna get annoyed when her friends go down to paige's room (where she was just about to go) to go eat. it's almost like she says "i'm gonna come down there too" to warn paige when she need to quit acting cute and get everybody out so they can have their cuddle sesh. basically hinting at paige, when i get my ass down there that means everybody need to clear out. i also think her voice just sounds so urgenttrrr, she's like waittttt not without me i wanna go downstairs and see my girl too just not with all yall in there. i think that's why she sounds so impatient/irritated. missing p-itis got her good.

so girl. after they go downstairs. all a mess. poor amari they was clowning on her guac so bad. so in between the puking and fighting for her life that kk's doing for 5 mins, i'd like to point out that paige really doesn't act like she knows kk is on live. kk kinda bursts in her room and is fake puking for some reason .... and she never really sees kk is still on live. i'll break it down more in my script but, we hear a little robot voice go, "call from azzi fudd." and it dings like paige picks it up. now yall why this bitch say babyyyy when she answers it. and then says hello. mind you she says baby in a weird voice but that's how she answers it. sigh my babygirl/baby paige agenda is thriving atm. now i'm gonna end this exactly how i thought azzi meant by when she said "im finna come down there too." kk is sitting on paige's bed and talking to her when we hear the door open. very obv you can hear azzi say, "cmon don't piss me off" like basically shooing kk cause she wants some time with her girl. and i jus imagine paige holding her hands up like what the wife says goes when kk looks at her. cause she know she damn wrong for how she was teasing and she's not trying to get in anymore trouble, smart girl. but also they just wanna spend time together too and i know that cuddle + movie combo SMACKED. i wish i was a fly on the wall.

suarrrr i know how much yall liked this analysis so i had to bring it back. sorry if it isn't the og but hey it's something! i'm also releasing the script for this live tonight about the same time i release this...thank yall!

[veliseraptor]

a couple people expressed some interest in this so I'm going to try noodling on it in a more coherent fashion

The first thing is that - as other people have written about - when constructing a modern AU it is important to think about how characters in a historical or fantasy setting relate to violence in a proportional rather than literal way. MDZS has a setting where killing is more normalized than it generally is in modern society, both on a personal and a societal level.

(This is also why acting as though a fantasy villain blowing up a planet is equivalent to the concept of a real planet being blown up is silly on a level that's not just the equation of fictional and real; it's also a matter of scale in the setting or genre.)

So looking at Xue Yang's propensity for violence in canon as a way to consider how he might behave in a modern setting firstly needs to examine the ways in which that violence is calibrated to his canon setting.

It is definitely true that, even relative to other characters, Xue Yang's violence is marked as beyond the pale and extreme. So it would follow that the same would be true in a modern setting - but my argument is that it's not quite as straightforward as that, because there are certain contextual things about Xue Yang's violence that I think are important to take into consideration.

The first is to note that his most notorious act of extreme violence - the massacre of the Chang Clan - is one that occurs while he is under the protection of the Jin Sect, and he knows it. (In CQL, he gets permission from Wen Ruohan, though it's true that he never invokes that as a defense.) There is every indication that Xue Yang is thoroughly unconcerned about the prospect of getting in trouble for the massacre. Xue Yang isn't acting without being mindful of potential consequences; he's acting in the knowledge that he won't have to deal with them. The second is contextual: who Xue Yang chooses to target, and where. For instance: the people he tricks Xiao Xingchen into killing live in a remote area where he's a little risk of authority intervening. In both cases, Xue Yang is acting under conditions where he's unlikely to face consequences; where his violence is, if not considered acceptable, then something he can get away with.

Xue Yang can be reckless, but that recklessness is tempered by a very strong survival instinct and a recognition of what he needs to do in order to stay free and alive.

So then, to carry this into a modern context, particularly in a setting with a state-sponsored police and a defined legal system: I think that consciousness of the risks he'd be taking with acting violently would be even more acute, particularly because it's likely that he would be existing in a state where he'd come into contact with the legal system early for more minor crimes. Connected with that, there's the fact that the tolerance/acceptance of authority for violence outside of warfare or state acts is significantly lower, so any shielding he might have for acting violently illegally would be much thinner. Xue Yang is aware of the extent of what he can get away with, and "what he can get away with" is less, under a modern legal apparatus, than he could in the decentralized jianghu with its ad-hoc justice system.

When I say that I think Xue Yang's violent tendencies would be tempered by the existence of a modern legal system, I'm absolutely not saying that it's out of respect for that system. (I would hope that'd be obvious.) And I'm not saying that a modern Xue Yang wouldn't still possess violent tendencies (I think he probably would). I just think he's highly motivated to consider the context and targets for his violence in such a way that would keep it much less visible and extreme than it is in canon. There are still acceptable targets. But he's not going to kill a whole family. And I actually think he's likely to stop short of murder in general.

[fractoluminescence]

Okay so I agree with this to a certain extent BUT

There is something fundamental that OP and I disagree on based on her manifesto and I'd like to talk about it

(Note, however, that I'm not really addressing OP here - I'm actually not really into discussing this stuff, as it tends to send me down spirals of rumination. This is just because I think what OP pointed out is interesting and that I think both that AND my caveat tend to not be considered in conversations, and I think bringing them together is a good thing. Hence I'm gonna try doing that here)

Yes, art should be free. But we are people. How people feel about things SHOULDN'T be the be-all end-all, but it SHOULD be taken into account most of the time, for the same reason that freedom is important, but shouldn't be the be-all end-all. For the same reason that I probably shouldn't be sent to jail for slapping a stranger out of nowhere in the street, but it's still not great to do it, and I probably shouldn't.

I don't think AI artists are evil. I know some people who do. And I know some people who don't care. And both sides seem convinced that there is no possible in between at times.

But AI is arriving at a plateau. Beyond a certain point, it stops improving. If there is no need for AI to eat up an infinity of data, then there is no need to scrape the works of artists that don't want their works scraped.

And you don't have to understand. For the same reason that I don't have to understand why my parents would enjoy a specific movie to understand that, even if it's not gonna ruin their lives, and if necessary or if I really want to I should be allowed to walk across out living room screaming while they are trying to watch it, it's still not the greatest thing to do.

I've never been one for politeness. Hell, I get into arguments all the times over people saying I shouldn't be saying so and so. But even I recognize that life is more peaceful and less distressing when we have specific codes to signal to each other that we're not seeking to do them harm.

For the same reason that I don't think AI artists should be harrassed, I don't think the works of artists should be scraped if they don't want them scraped. Because it causes unnecessary distress. Hell, if people only got scraped by opting in or uploading their art into a website, I'd gladly accept, personally.

But because it walks all over the feelings of people who don't want to be involved, I -cannot- endorse AI as it exists today. And yeah, people's feelings -are- important. Because that's all our lives are made of, most of the time, isn't it? Feelings. Emotions. And I think that matters.

My point is - soulless art? Souls are a thing now? And do people not marvel at nature even though it has no intent? Do people not marvel at even rock structures when they are pretty, even though they contain no life?

Stop trying to make AI evil because of some made-up characteristic you assigned to what it creates. You can have that feeling, if you want - but then, when anyone suggests otherwise, I've seen so many people pounce on them like they have been contaminated by that abstract evil that people assigned to AI.

Let people goddamn think. There can be nuance to a thing.

And feelings matter, too. And I'm tired of people pretending that they don't.

(Edit: To clarify my personal feelings towards all this, in case it wasn't clear enough, I do not like AI art. I don't reblog it if I know or can tell that that's what it is, and don't use GenAI myself. I just think the argument that anything that incorporates AI into it is automatically soulless. But some people are annoying or downright offensive in the way they bring up AI at times. It just personally gets on my nerves, and I am against the scraping of the art of artists that wish they could contest to it)

(Also there's the overtaking of stuff like google by AI images that is just. I mean it kinda gives me anxiety)

(At least AO3 has a filter for it...? I just hope people tag appropriately, as is the tradition on there)

(But I'm getting a bit far from the topic of image generation here)

hey what’s up, i think you’re pretty cool but disagree with you on the whole ai can make art thing. to me, without the purpose from an actual person creating the piece, it’s not art but an image; as all human art has purpose. some driving factor in a work, compared to a program which purely creates the prompt without further intention. i was wondering what your insight on this is? either way, hope you have a great day

well, first of all, does art require 'purpose'? there's this view of art which has very much calcified in "anti-AI" rhetoric, that art is some linear process of communication from one individual to another: an Artist puts some Meaning into a unit of Art, which others can then view to Recieve that Meaning. you can hold this view, but i don't! i'm much more of a stuart hall-head on this, i think that there is no such transfusion of Intent and that rather the 'meaning' of a piece is something that exists only in the interplay between text and reader. reading is an active, interpretative process of decoding, not a passive absorptive one. so i dispute, firstly, that 'purpose' is to begin with a necessary or even imporant element of art.

moreover i think this argument rests on a very arbitrarily selective view of what counts as "an actual person creating the piece" -- 'the prompt' is, itself, an obvious artistic contribution, a place where an artist can impart huge amounts of direction, vision, and so on. in fact, i completely reject the claim of both the technology's biggest detractors that genAI "makes art" -- to quote kerry mitchell's fractal art manifesto: "Turn a computer on and leave it alone for an hour. When you come back, no art will have been generated." in the past, i've posed questions about generative art pieces to demonstrate this

secondly, of course, the process does not end after image generation from prompt for serious generative artists--the ones who are serious about the artform (rather than tech guys trying to do marketing for the Magical Art Box) frequently iterate and iterate, generating a range of iterations and then picking one to iterate on further, so on and so forth, until the final image they choose to share is one that contains within it the traces of a thousand discrete choices on behalf of the artist (two pretty good explanations of this from people who actually do this stuff can be found here and here)

third and finally, that very choice to share the image is itself an artistic decision! we (and by we, i mean, anyone who cares about what art is) have been talking about this since fountain -- display is a form of artistic intent, taking something and putting it forward and saying 'this is art' is in and of itself an artistic decision being made even if the thing itself is unaltered: see, for example, the entire discipline of 'found art'. once someone challenged me, yknow, "if you did a google search, would that be art?" and my answer to that is, if you screenshot that google search and share it as art, then yes, resoundingly yes! curation and presentation recontextualizes objects, turning them into rich texts through the simple process of reframing them. so even if you granted that genAI output is inherently random computer noise (i don't, of course) -- i still think that the act of presenting it as art makes it so.

since i assume you're not familiar with anything interesting in the medium, because the most popular stuff made with genAI is pure "lo-fi girl in ghibli style" type slop, let me share some genAI pieces (or genAI-influenced pieces) that i think are powerful and interesting:

the meat gala, rob sheridan (warning: body horror!)

secret horses (does anyone know the original source on this?)

infinite art machine, reachartwork

ethinically ambigaus, james tamagotchi

mcdonalds simpsons porn room, wayneradiotv

software greatman, everything everything (the music is completely made by the band, but genAI was partially responsible for the lyrics -- including the title and the several interesting pseudo-kennings)

i want a love like this music video, everything everything

cocaine is the motor of the modern world, bots of new york

poison the walker, roborosewatermasters (here's my analysis posts on it too)

not all of these were necessarily intended as art: but i think they are rich and fascinating texts when read that way -- they have certainly impacted me as much as any art has.

anyways, whether you agree or not, i hope this gives you some stuff to think about, thanks for sharing your thoughts :)

[cursedcola]

Prompt: YOU ARE LIKE PAPA!!!! Aka. I'm seeing a trend. The boys are all literal carbon copies of their mommas (or one parent) at this point - so how do they feel having a child that’s THEIR spitting image? In which your genes didn’t even try. Physically...and personality. Masterlist: LinkedUP Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: House-Wardens Format: Headcannons+ imagine (Yes, I know I said I wouldn't be doing bullets anymore...but one more? It's mixed. Can't just cold turkey a gal) A/N: Do I want to make this a series?...I do not know. Maybe? It's really hard to write without the kids having names - and I'm just here like...can I use the names I want? I already made them up in a past post. Would that ruin the experience for people? I mean - it's my stuff and I can do what I want but hmmm.... Warning(?): For this to be, MC's the one who popped the kid out and has reproductive ability to house spawn. Kiddos are biological. Talk of pregnancy and general child-rearing. Use of mother and she/her pronouns to make my life a bit easier.

Riddle couldn't care if his child looked like him down to the last freckle on is butt. What mattered most in that delivery room was that the child came out healthy with no complications. He's the father that doesn't shy away from asking the doctor + midwives questions - perhaps too many, since you nearly toss him out of the delivery room for causing unneeded distress.

In all honesty? Had he studied medicine like his mother pushed - Riddle would've been the one delivering his own child. He copes with stress through control - so imagine THAT scenario.

After birth, he cares much more for the child's skills and manners rather than their appearance. Do they wash their hands before every meal? Say their please and thank you? Do they trust him enough to state their opinions - respectfully, not a potty mouth.

Riddle can and will make them lick a bar of soap if they utter a curse word before the age of 15.

How's their academic drive? Are they social? It's very important that they get along well with others from an early age. He wants them to have many friends.

He's so focused on their personality - aiming to raise a happy, confident, healthy child - that Riddle takes compliments on their physical attributes with a grain of salt until his hard work all those years child-rearing amass into... well, a second less intense version of himself.

He's adamant to ensure the child's homelife is better than what he had growing up. In a way, he misses much while worrying about other things. 10/10 an anxious father, but very doting despite being strict.

"Must I paint a heart on my cheek every day? Why not a crown, or something more fitting us? Like a rose?" his daughter huffed, yet went to paint a large red heart over her cheekbone regardless.

Just like her father, she'd received her invitation to Night Raven. The girl was expecting it, her certainty fueled by perfect grades and a strong aptitude for magic. She did not lack confidence.

Just like her father, she was assured to land in Heartslabyul. Already prepping her cheek-mark before the mirror made any verdict.

Just like her father, she aimed for the position of Housewarden before setting a single foot on campus.

Yet unlike her father, she held no issues in speaking her grievances. She bemoaned about packing, groveled at her mother's feet for her favorite biscuits before living off cafeteria meals, and surely had no reservations stealing Riddle's best fountain pen for her studies.

She keenly resembled a certain ginger that still calls the Rosehearts' household every day despite getting blue-screened by the answering machine.

That’s the last time Riddle allows you to chose the godfather of his child. Ace is an insufferable influence without that power to toss around.

Riddle sighed, plucking the brush from her fingers and pinning her V-shaped bangs back to examine her uniform. He flattens her lapels and redoes her necktie.

His necktie. Gods he’s raised a little thief.

For a moment, as he loops the tie-knot, he's a young boy calling the girl's mother over each morning to straighten her uniform. It's nostalgic, especially with how his daughter squirms under his appraisal.

Definetly her mother’s daughter, he thinks.

It is then that Riddle sees himself through her wide eyes - they're the same greyish blue that were hardened on his first day. His daughter's are much kinder, he notes. She'll easily find companions to eat her meals with.

Her cheeks are full with sweetness- his were too, but by genetic design rather than an extra treat here and there. To this day his baby-face lingers.

Her cheeks were 100% rounded with uncle Trey's spoiling. Not that Riddle could deny her when he'd eat just as much sweets while toiling over papers in his office. He remembers the familiar patter of feet slipping in, tiny hands pushing a cookie on his desk and coating it with crumbs.

He'd scold her to bring a plate next time, but take a break from work to enjoy the moment. Strict yet not domineering. A child that shares should be encouraged, at least that's what one of his many parenting manuals said.

She shared his button nose and tiny stature. Except she loved wearing matching Mary-Janes with her mother, while he wouldn't be caught without a heel at that age. She inherited his height but not his insecurity. Thank goodness.

Perhaps all those comments about his genetics weren't solely in regard to her magical prowess or ambitions. "....Father? Hellloooo?" she side-stepped to grab her bags, just as he reached to flatten her hair for the fifth time. His heart mellowed enough to not scold her impropriety.

"Ah - " Riddle coughed into his fist, " - apologies, little rose. I just never realized how much you look like -"

"You?” She cut in, “Yeah, psssssh. Mother says it at least once a day. About time you listened."

Riddle snorted, pinching between his brows. Yes, of course it was said. Although only now was he beginning to believe it.

"In appearances, yes. Yet your manners are as deplorable as ever."

Leona hopes his children are nothing like him. Which is impossible, since beastmen carry dominant traits when pitted against humans. He's not surprised in the slightest when his child has two little cub-ears atop their head, or that tiny chord barely passing as a tail. A ready snack he threatens to bite off when they misbehave.

At the very least, he hoped for your eyes. His piercing citrine was attractive, no doubt about that. He's not displeased to have them peer up at him from a bassinette each morning. Yet it is your eyes that carry a softness that this palace needs for him to get through his day.

Hey. At least there's no question of paternity. The joke falls flat with the midwives though. 'course it does.

Multiple times, by the way. For someone who claims to dislike loud children, Leona's genes are intent to sire three spitting images of himself.

In every which way - from their squeaky yawns after a mid-day siesta, to the magic flowing in their veins.

"Papa! Look what I learned how to do!"

Leona barely had time to look up from his endless pile of paperwork. The damn thing was near endless, and he'd missed three scheduled siestas just trying to get through the civil dispute filings. His brother spared no mercy in delegating the less 'enthusing' tasks to his 'smart, wise, people-smart' - pah - little brother.

He hated the sea of menial administrative filings.

His eldest daughter was well aware - she hated her homework just as much.

"A stampede's on it's way! Better freeze up before it's too late!"

Which is why she chose that moment to turn her beloved papa's woes to stone. Literally.

The moment her little fingers touched papyrus, the entire stack turned into solid rock. As did the blood in Leona's veins. Sparkly citrine eyes looked at him expectantly. Somewhere in the palace the lioness' tutor was undoubtly scouring to find her, take her back to magic theory, maybe try to cover this up from the other servants.

"You - OI! I needed those - urk, what else have you turned to stone?" he drops the pen in his hand and tries to move the now frozen stack into a drawer.

"Dammit Ki'faji...Where are your tutors? This is exactly why I told your mom combined lessons with Cheka would be a hassle," Leona grumbles and kicks from his desk, quick to check the hall outside. The kid was a bad influence - rambunctious as a twerp and even more riled up as a preteen.

Upon seeing no servants, guards, or even Cheka running up after his cousin - Leona's both relieved and angered.

Angered that his daughter was left alone. She probably escaped to avoid classwork, which he did too at that age but she deserved better. A proper education outside of solitude. One where she could hopefully grow up optimistic about this country and the people inside of it.

Relieved that no servant witnessed her Unique magic. They wouldn't understand. He can't bear the thought of them speaking of her like they did him.

Except it would be inevitable.

Then angered again, because in his hurry her little tail tucked between her legs. She hugged the side of his work desk with her hands fisted at the hem of her tunic. Her lips set in a scared pout, looking up at him past that untamed mane in her eyes. Worried.

"Papa...did I do something wrong?"

He wonders if this is what his father felt like. Being confronted with your own child, knowing that by cruel fate they'd have to face hardships and hatred for something out of their control.

Suffocating. His own throat felt full of sand. The leather on his hands too tight. She looked so much like him. Acted like him. That much Leona never once contested. Ki-Faji bemoaned to the skies that it was like time never passed, and he was stuck in a loop teaching the same unruly child.

It was funny, until it wasn't. "Nah, kiddo. Nothin' like that," he tried to keep his usual drawl. Unclench his fists. Forget about when he first slipped gloves on, "ya gotta warn me before a shock like that. So you finally got your magic tamed down, huh? Good job."

He shut the door and it set closed with a load thud. Leona might have an idea of what his father felt, but right now? She came first.

Ensuring she felt wanted, strong, and damn right accomplished - came first. Everything else later.

So with just a few strides, he swept her up over his shoulder and out from under that desk. She giggled and squawked about turning 'him' to stone if he made her go back to classes.

And Leona made no promises, but set her on the edge of his desk with 'threats' of turning her sweets to sand if she didn't at least try.

"With Unique Magic like that, you'll out-class your cousin before he even catches wind," and a bit of rivalry never hurt to keep the bloodline strong too.

Which judging by his daughter's immediate squirming to go and turn the first-prince to stone? She inherited Leona's competitive streak as well.

Unions between Merfolk and Humans are rare. Roughly 1/100 and that is giving benefit of the doubt. There were too many boundaries and complications. Prejudice born from history, the need for transfiguration, differing lifespans and culture.

One strong deterrent, perhaps the most impactful, is childrearing. The genetic output - while not impossible - is exceedingly unpredictable. Each species of merfolk reproduces differently, and their genetic dominance when put against a human's gene (especially if the mother is human) can cause complications. Capricious complications.

And as we all know - Azul is not fond of chance. Were his child to be born on land, yet have gills? Their lungs are so small, so new, they wouldn't make it to water in time. The same could be if they were born underwater and needed air.

One thing he is certain of, is that Octopi carry strong genetics. Literally. Should the child inherit his strength its kicks could do much more to your stomach than be a tickle to fawn over.

His mother wanted grandchildren, as did his great-grandmother did great grandchildren. Truth be told he wouldn't be opposed to raise one to leave his legacy to. Yet the Ashengrotto genes were strong with each descendent, so much that when he discovered you were with child? He couldn't be happy. Not truly - because too much was at risk and out of his control.

He prayed, which is not something Azul ever does, that the child would take after you. At each stage of development you were monitored down to the last detail, looking for any complications. Even the slightest hint of a tentacle or incompatibility.

Luckily, the child formed feet. Its first kick scared the hell out of him, but at most left you sore. Yet he wasn't able to relax. Not until you were taken care of in the best hospital on land, with a literal aquarium set up next to the bed just in case.

A medical marvel. That's what this child was.

Not a miracle. Not a blessing.

A medical marvel, and the most beautifully unpredictable thing that has ever happened to Azul in his entire life.

There was no clear picture of how his son might look at birth. He waited with bated breath, mentally running through every text he could find on mer-human unions. Banking on all the preparations He arranged and trying not to bite through his nails from the anxiety. The success rate was too low, but you insisted.

And he was most fortunate, because had you not then he wouldn't be holding the most cherished prize of his life.

The baby didn't cry, yet neither did he according to his mother. He was pale, no gills in sight but the wispy swirls of light gray on his head showed Azul's genes wouldn't rescind everything.

It was hidden from view for now, but there were signs of mixed blood on his son's skin. Plentiful black dots spotted his entire body, too dark to be freckles yet too light to be like Azul's outer skin in his mer-form. Time would only tell if Azul's genes really did overtake all, and if his son would look at the world with wet purple eyes.

Yet what struck Azul the most wasn't these obvious traits, ones he predicted at the very start of your pregnancy after endless nights of research.

It was that right below his son's lip, in the same spot as his father, was a small mole. That truly was by chance with no genetic influence.

He thumbed the little speck, marveling at something so small yet he didn't realize he wanted until it was there.

"You weren't lying, huh? Those are some strong genetics you carry."

Azul balked, just barely stopping himself from whipping around too quick. He turned to scold you for not sleeping, worry ebbing at him all over again.

Yet you rest your head against his shoulder, cheek pressed into his ruffled button down to sink against him. His heart still spun like it did as a teenager.

"Look at his little head of hair," you laughed, and he mutely did just that, "if he gets glasses, then I think my bloodline's finished. Might as well say you did mitosis"

That got him to scoff.

"Hardly," he said dismissively, but his lips pulled to smile regardless, "I don't recall giving him feet. That's all your doing."

"Well excuse me for not having eight legs."

"You are excused," he snickered, "Truly, he would be so much more productive with them."

Azul didn't mean that. Well, partially. Yes his son would get much more done with four sets of arms but with other costs.

You hadn't pressed, and he was grateful.

Kalim wants a large family. Not only because it is expected of him as the eldest Asim, but also because he is a family man. He adores his siblings and does his absolute best to give them all attention despite their large quantity.

He's the most doting husband, and is even more attentive as a parent. One thing he will do differently from his father is keeping his family 'small'. Four children minimum, six children maximum. Monogamous as well. As much as he loves all his siblings, the unspoken tensions are too much to endure. Kalim's also a one-spouse kind of guy, and the thought of sharing - while normal for someone of his status - is not for him. No amount of suggestion or pressure will change that. It is bad enough that his children will be subject to worries about their uncles, aunties, and cousins possibly harboring ill-will. Kalim is set on ensuring that they are part of a true family, one without such tensions, and that he can give them all the love they deserve.

Perhaps he feels guilt as the eldest. He received the most attention from his father as the heir, but he has siblings who barely know anything about their father aside from how he looks. He has step-mothers he has met only in formality, and as time went on there were strains between his siblings that he couldn't ignore. Not after taking his official seat.

Kalim will not be the same as his father. Regardless for his respect and love for the man - No matter what the future does to him, no matter if he lives a long life or one cut short. Kalim will make sure his spouse and children are cared for. He loves them more than anything on the planet.

Should he have a family, and the situation demand it? He'd give up his spot as heir in a heartbeat and move far out into the dunes with nothing but the clothes on his back. All for them to be happy and safe. That's the kind of dad he is.

"Baba?"

Kalim resisted the urge to giggle. His eldest son hated when Kalim acted too childlike, and he was already pushing the boy's patience. He was just past thirteen, his fourteenth birthday already planned for a week-long celebration in just a half-month. It would be the biggest banquet the Scaldings Sands had see since Kalim's wedding. His son would soon start officially training as the next head Asim, just like Kalim did at that age.

Yet it was never too early to celebrate one of the best days of Kalim's life. Which is exactly why Kalim hovered outside the boy's window at an hour long past their family's 'bedtime'. The carpet under his feet familiar as ever, as was his son's exhausted disapproval (we wonder which attendant he inherited 'that' look from).

"Come on! Let's go for a carpet ride. Just you and me tonight," Kalim gently pat the space next to him, his smile adamant, "we don't even have to tell your mother."

His son deadpanned. Even Kalim grimaced at that one.

"Okay! If we get caught, I'll take the hit for both of us. Please? It's such a lovely night out. Perfect for a flight~"

Normally it would be the son begging his father to sneak out, not the other way around. Yet Kalim's eldest was much more mature than he was at that age. Despite being his physical copy, those ruby reds never sparkled with excitement like his father's. They were aways fully concentrated - be it on his studies, his charity, or whomever captured his attention. There came a point when a rumor surfaced that he couldn't possibly be Kalims, yet they didn't reach far thanks to the physical resemblance.

The 'only' resemblance. Since the kid hadn't cracked a laugh since he was in diapers.

Something Kalim learned to accept, but never gave up trying.

His son observed from his bed, the boy's nose wrinkled with thought. No doubt wondering if he should tattle to his mom. He was a doting momma's boy, at least he had that in common with his father.

"Fine," he sighed heavily, and rolled out of bed like it was torture.

Kalim waited, holding the curtain open eagerly until his boy hopped the ledge and sat cross-legged on the carpet's far edge.

Then they were off. High above the city where no one would see. Kalim bobbed his head happily, pointing out buildings as if his son hadn't memorized the entire map of their homeland at the ripe age of five.

"Oh! And there's the restaurant I took your mother on our first date. She loves their Kanafeh -"

"Baba, I know. We have it for breakfast twice every week."

Kalim guided the carpet towards lower ground without a response - keeping air, sassy teenagers, and his messy turban from whacking him in the face.

Only two of those three succeeded.

"Why are we even out here? Shouldn't you worry more about your responsibilities? What if mother wakes to an empty bed, did you consider the consequences? Her worries?"

There came those older thoughts out of such a young mouth. Kalim couldn't help but slump inwards, although his smile still hung on. "You're turning fourteen soon," life will change, "Don't you want to enjoy life a bit more before starting your studies? Baba will understand, you know." he said, and perhaps that was not what his son expected to hear. The boy puffed up. His tanned skin rouging with lost composure.

"I'm not like you. Being al Asim means something to me. Maybe you'd understand if you were a proper sultan who took his job and family seriously! Rather than sneaking off in the night for merry rides on a flying carpet!"

Under the moonlight, his son's perfectly primmed white hair bounced in the wind. Even in sleep he managed to keep his appearance tidy. There were times it was like Kailm was looking in warped a mirror. Those rare moments when he caught the boy lapse, usually with his younger siblings or cousins. When he looked softer, his garnet eyes full of kindness rather than the contempt held in them right now.

Except in these moments too - he still saw a mirror. Just one he wished to avoid.

He too disliked his father's way of doing things, to a certain extent. That his own son felt similar wasn't a surprise. It did not lessen the sting regardless.

"Tifli..." Kalim started, and his son faltered at the endearment, "think what you want, but there is nothing that means more to me than our family."

And even if his son wouldn't admit to it - Kalim knew he saw the mirror too. Just because Kalim disliked his father's choices, didn't mean he did not love him.

He reached for his son without a second thought, pulling the boy down to roughly rub his cheek over his head.

and just like that, Kalim was back to being happy and his son back to groaning complaints - albeit less agitated, to Kalim's delight - and pretending he was much more mature than he was deep down. Kalim's opposite yet perfect little replica.

"Ahahaha!!! Look at you! Just wait until the council has to fight against that fire! I can't wait to bring you with me! "

"AGH LET ME GO!!! WHY DID I EVEN AGREE TO THIS?!"

Papa Vil - now that's one unexpected title to tack onto his Resume. Contrary to what everyone might believe of a superstar leading a life on the go, Vil is proud to be a father. His own raised him while juggling his goals, why should Vil's career deny him the joys of fatherhood?

No. When Vil's daughter is born, he is more than prepared to balance family and work. He locked in when taking a spouse, and is never one to be unprepared.

When you were pregnant, he announced a hiatus in his career just as you entered the third trimester. He can afford it. The public loves a family man. He has money money, and wasn't going to risk missing the birth of his first child while travelling.

Also. Supportive husband to the maximum. Considering you were carrying his child, the bare minimum he could do was be readily available as you go through the roughest stage. That baby had a college fund made and filled before she was even born.

Not that he'd just let her mooch - no child of his would grow up without ambition and practiced life skills. He was not 'aiming' to create a replica or enforce his standards...but she wouldn't lack drive. No Schoenheit - not even you - is going to go through life quietly.

His hiatus was meant to extend until she turned one. Old enough to enjoy life on the road, for you to recover, and give 3-5 years for him to work until she started school. Unlike him at that age, she wouldn't be chartered around as much for his work. Nope.

He already had it planned. She'd be enrolled in a private academy, you'd work as you liked in a good neighborhood, and he wouldn't take any contracts outside of the Shaftlands until she was a teenager. Balance. She would have every opportunity, proper support, and hopefully independence to grow outside of his shadow.

The last thing Vil wanted was for her to be influenced by his career - well, other than admiring his films and being that perfect little face to single out int the audience while at a talk-show or photoshoot.

Speaking of Schoenheit genetics and their blossoming careers - heavens above, he fell in love the moment she first opened her eyes. There were few curly blond ringlets that grew out at super speed as the months past, and she inherited his lavender eyes. Although on a baby they were more rounded, doe-like, and would most definitely take his sharp edge as she grew. Every time he booped her little nose, the little giggle that came was almost melodic.

Such a well behaved baby made a cameo in one of his largest projects to date. He took the role of an unruly ostracized duke, where the special effects makeup made him both enchanting yet horribly frightening to young children. His character gained his redemption through raising an orphan, and Vil's little girl was the only baby they could find who wouldn't cry when seeing her father act so heinous.

"Vil, everyone here is itching to know, is it true that the baby we see in 'Redemption of our Finest ' is your own daughter? There are rumors and speculations from those on set yet we'd love confirmation."

Vil shifts in his chair. The many cameras at all angles did little to deter his focus from the interview in progress. It was one of many, and the talk-host across from him looked very eager to get the first scoop on his latest hit success. He smiled to the camera with his eyes, pretending to be in thought for a moment. The questions were all pre-approved, after all.

"Your assumption and the rumors are all correct," he started, crossing his legs and folding his hands together in them, "unfortunately we struggled to find a child that would not cry when faced with my appearance. Poor little things - it is a struggle to rear child actors. Especially babies."

The reporter blinked, somehow still shocked despite knowing the already.

"And you're saying that your daughter is a cut above the rest?" they asked, and he tutted inwardly. The phrasing was poor, as always with these reporters.

"Yes," he gave them a moment's victory, "and no."

He didn't wait for further inquiry.

"My daughter is remarkable - she is my greatest production, a work of perfection alongside my beloved spouse. Yet this film is rated PG-13, and includes scenes not fit for young eyes. Babies act on instincts alone, and for the majority of this film my appearance was...ah, I so rarely say this, but I was unsightly."

His tone carried warning for them not to twist his words, and the message was received as they gestured for those behind the scenes to alter the backdrop.

"We could even argue your acting ability is that good! To make such a beautiful face and poised demeanor come off as cold." they said, and with the click of a button the screen behind them changed.

On it came a picture of an old, tattered bassinette left on the front stoop of a castle. The picture flicked to show inside, and in it was Vil's precious little girl. Special effects added some dirt on her cheeks, and they wrapped her in a tattered blanket for the scene. Yet despite their efforts to make the child look abandoned, Schoenheit genetics demanded the world see such an adorable baby for all she is.

The audience awed at the picture, even without a cue card. Vil himself took on a genuine lift to his practiced smile when seeing her.

"And just look at her folks! Such an adorable little baby! Can you really expect anything less from THE Vil Schoenheit and Eric Venue's heritage. An actor before she can even count! Your wife's genes didn't even try here, did they Vil?"

The crowd appears insatiable as the host scrolls through a series of photos. Some taken from the film, others from photoshoots and the occasional candid photo snuck by paparazzi. He knew better than to try and hide his family, but said nothing as they all made assumptions.

After all - he was beautiful, and his daughter was undoubtedly the most beloved baby in all of Twisted Wonderland. It was only natural and who was he to turn his nose when faced with one of the few facts these reporters have gotten right.

Although, he wasn't entirely content He laughed into his palm, unable to resist the chance and made direct eye-contact with one of the cameras. Knowing full well that you were watching somewhere back stage, lips likely puckered from being disrespected and just waiting for him to come sneak your family out before the public was dismissed.

"I'm afraid there is nothing to argue there. My genes are perfection, not to mention competitive," he smirked seductively at the camera, propping his chin in the palm of his hand, "but I'm not opposed if my wife would like a rematch for a chance to win the next battle."

And with that - he simultaneously spiked his popularity rating and soft-launched what would likely be a second replica coming to life soon.

Maybe.

If you didn't kill him for that stunt first.

Prodigies spawn prodigies. At least in this case.

Idia never pictured himself as a family man. Hells he never thought anyone would even look at him with anything other than disgust (minus that one ghost lady. He doesn’t like to talk about it) let alone marry him. Needless to say that he cannot decide if you are an idiot or if he has plot armor - because those are the only two reasons you could possibly ever agree to give up your entire life and move to STYX just to be with him.

**see Marriage series for settling THAT can of worms

Yet you do, and now he’s got not only his little brother but a whole ass spouse. He’s on cloud nine. Life cannot be letting him have such good luck. The RNG is rigged

Until he learns that you’re with child - and it all goes boom. Literally. Since not only does his daughter inherit his curse, his fiery flames that never tame themselves, and his spiked teeth that nip his lips way too many times for comfort -

She inherits his genius.

Raising a child in a contained base is a living nightmare.

Raising a child with a need to infiltrate the laboratories and experiment is hell. At least he kept to his room when tinkering as a kid. Idia’s daughter has his brains and your craftiness for going around undetected…and your habit of initiating dramatic events. Needless to say that she does NOT keep to your family’s apartment, does NOT submit to any security (he regrets teaching her how to decode the base padlocks), and very much enjoys making STYX ‘lively’….haha…yeah

No one has ever met such a happy Shroud. Excluding Ortho. He was a sweet type of happy. You spawned a menace.

But let’s not derail. Even if he didn’t want her per-say - Idia loves his daughter. His gut twisted seeing the Shroud curse start taking hold over such a tiny body. She was just a toddler and already burning through enough blot to tie her to this place. He knew the feeling of those youthful amber eyes looking at him for guidance. She looked so much like Ortho as a toddler, and as a child began to resemble him more with longer flames.

It was a constant battle every day. Balancing his work while also trying to do better - because his attitude sucked. He knew his attitude sucked. You warned him about using self-deprecative language and for the most part he did learn to reign it in.

Except old habits die hard, and deep down he still struggles to like himself. Seeing his daughter follow in his footsteps burns brutally, since she has all this potential and just like him she’ end up working for the family business without a choice. All because of these stupid flames and these stupid teeth and these stupid genetics and this STUPID curse -

“MAMAAAAAAAA!!!! DADDY’s BEING A BIG MEANIE AGAIN!!!”

Her shrill high-pitched cry carried throughout the apartment. Idia had just enough time to swipe the alarm system off before it processed. He wishes he could regret putting a system to detect and alert if she was distressed when alone here - but couldn’t. Even now. Since this was totally 100% his fault.

Dammit this kid has lungs of steel.

“Nonononononono - No Mama! No! Shhh shh shh shh!” He grapppled at her little shoulders with clammy hands, “Look! Look I’m not sad, see??? We have pretty hair! Super cool hair! Please please please stop crying -“

And then she did.

The tonal whiplash. The way this tiny manipulator just ceased all her tears, mouth clamping shut with an audible click. A literal child pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket to pat her eyes dry - like some twisted 60yr old swindler at a poker game who’s been training for this moment for decades.

He should have known.

Honestly. Idia can’t even bring himself to be mad. The amount of gaslighting it took to get this kid off his Ninswendo last week already put his best tricks to use.

He is the one who created this monster.

Just like her dad - his little girl was hyper aware of people. Including him, and picked up all his weaknesses. She knew damn well that he genuinely had reason to fear only two people - her momma and her grandmother. Both of which lecture him about being a good model. She knew that system was put in place, and to be good when no one was around to watch her. Not that she ever stayed quiet in their home with S.T.Y.X labs to infiltrate.

He just never thought the day would come, when her demon like tendencies would be used for something like this.

“Your her father, not her friend” his mother said.

“It’s bad enough you turned me into a living photocopier - don’t you dare get lenient with her at this age” you warned.

“That child scares me” he thought, and you agreed. Awful. Awful parents. You both mean it in the most loving way possible.

“Hwee hee hee! I’m glad you think so, daddy,” she grinned up at him all sweet-like, with those pointy little chompers ready to stake their claim. She snapped her teeth at him like a piranha, “hehe~ Mommy says our teeth are cool too. The pointies make eating steak easier - oh! Oh! Can we please have steak for dinner tonight? Please?? Pleaseeeeee?”

Something told him that should he say no, those distress detectors would be set off before he could catch them.

“U-uh…yeah, kiddo. Sure thing. Just go play and I’ll put an order in.”

He tried desperately to hide the quiver in his voice, but knew he failed. She skipped off to her bedroom much too happily - even if father’s were supposed to want their kids to be happy, that was too much - and whatever work remained for the evening didn’t seem important

As Idia slid up to one of the house control panels to check for instant-card delivery, he wondered how this became his life, and if this is how his parents felt having a prodigal spawn of the under-hells for a son.

No. He wasn’t that bad….was he? Did he even want to know at this point?

Boom

“DADDY!!! MY EXPERIMENT BLEW UP AND IS LEAKING RED GUNK!”

No. No. He really did not want to know. For the sake of whatever relationship he had with his parents.

He wants as many children as possible. The definition of that one clip of of the kid who wanted 100 children, so that they'd all have to be his friend. Not that Malleus would force his children to be his friends - well, it would be a plus surely - but he does want a large family to live his life beside.

He finds comfort in solitude, but comfort's close companion is loneliness. He wishes to never be partnered with that feeling. There was opposition. Union between the Briar Prince and a human? Unheard of. Not to mention the life-span difference. Not just between himself and you, but also for his children. Half-fae live long, but not as long as full-blooded fae. In time he will still come out alone, but he hopes to have many memories. Much love and warmth to take with him.

Yet this isn't meant to be sad - no, let us focus on the absolute joy he felt when his first child was born. A boy, his magic exceedingly strong despite his lineage. Even the elders were surprised at the magical prowess this child held. It was almost as if Malleus' nightly wishes for his child to be well, to be loved, to be healthy - taking every precaution to ensure you were well cared for during pregnancy, speaking blessings to your stomach in the dead of night - it all just manifested and out came the world's most perfect child.

A Draconia who would grow up with both parents. He'd be protected, nurtured, loved, and never ever alone. Some might call the King overbearing, making sure his spouse had a desk in his office and attending his meetings with a bright yellow baby sling over his chest. It definitely stood out against his royal attire but Malleus didn't mind.

In magic - there was also physical appearance. Being half-human, the child physically aged quicker than Malleus did in his youth. Yet he still retained the Draconia genes, with two curled scaly horns poking out above his forehead. He had no tail at birth, but around puberty many little scales began to poke their way through at his temple, back, wrists, and neck. No one predicted this since the Draconias have never reproduced with humans, but you tried to calm him with poorly convoluted jokes about ' fancy dragon acne'.

Yet according to Lilia, the boy looked like a near carbon-copy of Malleus once he sprouted up. His hair may have been kept shorter, slicked back, and he may carry himself entirely different from his father. Yet the look in his slitted-emerald eyes was exactly the same. His aura was the same.

And Malleus hadn't any idea how to handle that observation. Surely it was meant as a compliment. In the moment, he laughed and took it as one. Who wouldn't be prideful to see themselves in their child? Especially one so accomplished, growing into his scales with pride and eagerly stepping into his role as prince.

Except Malleus wouldn't, because the thought of his child sharing the feelings he had at that age? It unsettled him greatly. Perhaps one of his worst nightmares as a doting father.

“Father?”

Three sharp knocks echoed in Malleus’ study. He needn’t look up from his book, since the door opened with a thud without waiting for his approval.

Not that he minded - no, quite the contrary. He felt excitement building up at the first knock after all. There was only one person who it could be.

No one would dare impose on the Briar King during his downtime.

None had permission for such rudeness.

No one except his dear family, of course. Although as much as he wished for them to cling to his side and be a welcome reprise from his duties - Malleus was rarely afforded such a gift. His eldest son in particular conducted himself more as a knight or distant consultant than a loving son. Perhaps that came from leaving him in Sebek’s care - as much as his knight was ecstatic to become the first prince’s personal guard, his constant reverence to the elder briar ways likely left an impact on an impressionable child. Instead of bedtime stories, the little Draconia likely fell asleep to Sebek's long-winded lectures on the daily.

Back when he was a starry-eyed toddler, of course. Now the boy wouldn't dare let his guard down enough to sleep, even if his safety was guaranteed. Somehow despite Malleus taking every last precaution to rear a tranquil child, he raised a stickler instead.

“Hm? You look troubled, my son” Malleus met his eldest’s rare lack of decorum with amusement. He didn’t bother to hide a fanged smirk from him.

His son, who seemed to bristle in the doorway when under Malleus’ eye, clearly struggled to contain himself into the proper prince he was trying to be.

“Because I am troubled, father” he grit out, hands flexing at his sides. Sharp black fingernails pricking barely pricking at his palms.

“Oh? And what seems to be the problem? You so rarely come to me with such matters” - to anyone who didn’t know the king, the sentence read as a bitter slight.

Yet it was merely a father sulking for his son’s attention, in his own prideful way.

“That’s precisely the issue,” his son huffed, “with all held respect, you cannot just drop in on my classes whenever you feel like it! It’s disruptive!”

Malleus merely turned the page in his book, “and whose fault is it that I had to resort to such measures?”

His question met a guilty conscience, and so he continued.

“What else am I to do? My child no longer behaves as my blood. He writes home giving stale reports as if he is one of my soldiers and bids his precious family far too few visits,” Malleus looks up from his ‘reading,’ and gestures to the uniform his son wears, “What else am I to do to see my precious son, other than visit his school? I was a student there once. Your headmaster wouldn’t dare to deny my entry.”

“Father - I understand your anger with my negligence but that is not an excuse for disrupting my classmates -“

“They looked quite please with my presence. I even supplemented material for your lecture -“

“They were scared beyond their wits! - And what of mother?! Surely she was against doing something so drastic! Think of our image! The King of Briar Valley cannot just casually drop his responsibilities whenever he so pleases.”

The boy’s composure finally cracked - and even for a half-blood, his power easily contorted the world around them if left unteathered.

Crackles of electricity buzzed across the study, flickering through a lit desk-lamp. As did the temperature lessen some degrees. Rather than be miffed by his son’s explosion, Malleus laughed in the face of it.

So this is how he must have looked during his moments of impulsivity. Hah.

“You’d be foolish to assume she didn’t try and come along. I thought to spare you her ire, as a mercy.”

At that, the lamp ceased it’s flickering to beam a steady light once again. The teen’s cheeks flushed a shameful color, so rare for one who prides himself more than any of his siblings.

"That was not necessary," he softened almost instantly. Even if she nearly committed the same 'crime' as Malleus, it seems favorites were at play.

"You know with certainty that it was."

A Draconia through and through. What was the term Lilia used? “Momma’s boy”? Considering that none disrespect the Queen - the King included - as her ire could strike the most sore spots of their family after all.

The boy pulled at his collar, out of arguments and simmered to displeasure rather than anger. He muttered an apology for losing his temper, and Malleus found himself wishing for the argument to continue just a bit longer.

After all, these were the times he felt most like a father, a husband, part of a family - rather than a king. He misses the early days when he was only the first three, before the council and other influences pushed his children to focus on responsibilities and their lineage.

“I’m sorry for not writing home…or visiting…I hadn’t thought it would trouble you. I simply - I thought it best to place distance between us.”

“Distance?” Malleus balked, “Distance from your family?”

He couldn’t understand why his child would want distance.

How could the boy he worked so hard to instill belonging within, whom he raised from egg to man, whom he would give up everything for - possibly say such a harrowing thing.

His own blood. His heart and soul. To spew such things in the face of ancestors who were bound to loneliness.

Whatever explanation for his manners didn’t matter so long as he was happy, but to intentionally want to be away from all Malleus thought worthwhile in life?

Never-mind. Malleus wanted the argument to cease. Indefinitely. And to tie himself to this desk for a decade or more.

“Yes, Father. Otherwise it is too difficult-“ he hesitated to continue, but one look at his father- whatever expression he might hold that couldn’t be contained despite his efforts - seemed to be the last push, “- being away. From my family. Leaving. I do not like it, but it is my duty. Coming home, hearing from you, mother, even the care packages I receive from grandfather! I can’t eat them but somehow just smelling the burnt food makes me falter! How can you expect me to preform up to our family’s standards, if I am homesick all the time!?”

It was the first time since he was a boy, clinging to Malleus’ legs, begging his parents not to leave him with his babysitters, that his son cried so openly. Malleus nearly gave in each time it happened too.

The pressure of royal duties, of perfection, on his shoulders was the same as those who came before him. Yet Malleus found himself more relieved than anything, even if his child might never recover his pride.

It was also the first time in many years that Malleus hugged his son, careful to avoid his growing blunted horns, and wasn’t pushed away.

“You are already doing more than enough. Loving your family is nothing to be ashamed of, and it is one of my greatest regrets that you thought otherwise for a single moment.”

[unrealcities]

So a friend shared an old classic standby of Filipino sociopolitical poetry, Amado V. Hernandez's Bayani, to our group chat for labor day. It's a great poem, and I'm always glad to be reminded of it. And I thought: I should share it to this Tumblr. Surely the English translation must be floating around the Internet somewhere. It'll take five minutes.

The definitive English translation, if such a thing exists, is by Cirilo Bautista. I have seen it once before, in our high school library. I have never read it. It is not floating around the Internet somewhere.

And then I had the stupidest idea in the world: Let's translate it, I thought. It'll be fun. It'll be an exercise.

Reader, today I have learned that I know approximately zero languages. I don't know English, and I definitely don't know Filipino. I don't know how translators don't go insane, and I don't know why anyone decides it's a good idea to translate poetry.

Like. This is the original fifth stanza of the poem:

Sambundok na ginto ang aking dinungkal, kahi't na kaputol, di binahagihan! ang aking inani'y sambukiring palay, nguni't wala akong isaing man lamang! ang buhay ng iba'y binibigyang-buhay habang nasa bingit ako ng libingan!

And this is the J Unrealcities crack at translation:

I have hewed mountains of gold from the earth, but have yet to be given a glimmer of ore. I have plowed acres on acres of rice, and yet have nothing to serve at my table. I have fed so many lives from their births, while I live not one foot from the grave.

Like. The plowed acres of rice line is pretty straightforward, acres on acres to keep the meter and for emphasis. The next line is literally "but I have no rice to cook," but just saying that misses the nuances of "saing", the word that specifically means "to cook rice": that having no rice is equivalent to having nothing to eat; that you don't cook rice for yourself, you cook it for your household. I toyed with "not a grain". I gave up on "cook" and "food". How do people do this.

The line after that is literally "I have given others life while I am one foot in the grave." But again: meter. The original poem- and most of Hernandez's poetry- follows the traditional Balagtas style: twelve-syllable lines, six-line stanas, made to be spoken. I cannot do it, but I did try. I did enjoy "live not one foot from the grave" as a convergence of a. the one foot in the grave bit, b. the echo of "buhay" (life) from the previous line, and c. a reference to the urban poor communities that live in Metro Manila's cemeteries, many of whom are the working people the poem is about.

When I see a real English translation I will feel monumentally stupid. I am translating "panginoong laging namamanginoon" as "a peer crawling at the feet of peers" and no one can stop me. I am having an absurd amount of fun.

[words-4u]

like seeks like - t.s

pairing: trinity santos x f!reader (last name: thorne)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: i feel like this goes without saying but this medically inaccurate just a work of fiction idk anything about anything except from what i see on tv okay thanks :)

being a legacy isn’t easy. the constant comparisons, the fear of people using you because of your name, the weight on your shoulders to live up to a certain expectation. it was all too much but there’s no escaping it. you are a thorne, and for better or worse, that name meant something at PTMC.

you unwrapped a protein bar as you stood in front of the patients board reading through the list of patients that still needed to be seen.

“anything good?” you asked dana, the charge nurse of the pitt, mother figure to all.

“don’t make me tell robby you’re cherry picking,” she said as she made her way to perlah and princess.

“not cherry picking if i haven’t picked yet!” you called out after her.

“great! so there’s still time for me to steal a good one,” santos saddled up right next to you. she leaned on the counter, the scent of her immediately infiltrating your space. 

you shook your head at her, “no chance, santos.”

throwing your half eaten protein bar into the trash you practically ran to the most interesting case. santos hot on your heels. 

you opened the curtain with haste. “hi there, i’m dr. thorne…” you said at the same time santos introduced herself.

"i'm dr. santos. how can we—?” 

you stood side by side and stared at the man on the hospital bed. his entire body, his face down to his legs and feet, was covered in splinters. not the tiny ones you're used to, these were finger sized splinters penetrating his body.

“sir, how did this happen?” you managed to ask through your shock. 

the patient begin recounting how he ending up in the ER. he was walking to work, his usual shortcut through the woods, and a tree exploded. it's so cold outside that the sap in the tree froze and it shattered.  “i mean all i remember was hearing this loud sound, almost like a gunshot and then pain. all i felt was pain.”

“and how do you feel now?” santos asked, eyes still wide.

“the morphine is helping a little,” the patient admitted. 

“okay, hang tight, sir. we’ll be right back,” you said as pulled the curtain to give him privacy while you and santos found an attending.

it was then that your sister elise and garcia, PTMC’s surgical goddesses and best friends, walked past. 

“hey, odds. need one of you to glove up. we have a trauma incoming. it’s a doozy.” garcia said.

“which one of you will it be?” elise asked.

“me!” santos immediately volunteered.

“oh, come on.” you complain, while you were okay with the current case you just picked, for your sister and garcia to both be in the er, you know this trauma was gonna be a good one to be apart of. “elise…” you turned to your sister.

“hey, she said it faster.” elise held her hands up while santos smirked victoriously.

“is this like punishment or something? cause i chose emergency medicine over surgery.” you asked annoyed. your sister clearly picking favourites.

“no, that’s a personal choice.”

“yeah, tell that to mom.” you rolled your eyes. your mom also worked at PTMC but not just any regular job, she was chief of surgery.

"incoming!” dana yelled from across the ER.

santos looked back you and touched your arm condescendingly. “have fun with tree guy,” she walked away with a pep in her step but the skin where she held your arm ran hot.

“fuck my life,” you said walking away to find and consult with dr. robby.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

“okay, sir. last one,” you said as you pluck out the final spinner from his shin. javadi and whitaker also helped to speed up the process. you stood up and took off your protective glasses and gloves.

“i’m gonna call someone to wrap your open wounds but the good news is that the punctures aren’t that deep,” you said with a soft smile. you walked away heading to the computer to finish your charting. 

“extra hands!” garcia yelled poking her head out of one of the rooms.

dana looked over at you and tilted her head giving you the go ahead.

“coming!” you ran over grabbing a new pair of gloves and enter the trauma room.

you took a deep breath sneering the room. the floor was bloody, the little girl’s leg appeared crushed. 

“where do you need me?” you asked as princess tied your protective gown. 

“where santos is.” elise said as she and garcia try to relive pressure from the little girls other leg.

the monitor started to beep. “we’re starting to lose her!” you yelled.

“her chest. it feels stiff.” santos said, and both your hands are on it, feel her chest. 

“we need to do a thoracatmy,” you looked up at garcia and elise. "she needs it now.”

“so do it,” garcia said with full confidence. you didn’t even see santos grabbing the instruments. 

“what are you doing?” you asked, looking at her prepping the girl’s chest. 

“what does it look like, nepo baby?” she said rubbing the girls lower chest with rubbing alcohol. she takes a scalpel and makes a large incision between her ribs.

“move over," she said through gritted teeth.

“there’s barely any room,” you responded frustrated and moved even closer to make a point.

“then stop breathing on my neck.”

you shook your head at her immaturity while she completed the procedure that should’ve been yours. princess handed her a retractor to get a better look at her heart. the surrounding area was filled with fluid. santos made quick of getting it drained until you tripped on one of the machines cords and bumped into santos. she accidentally nicked the little girl’s heart and then there was blood. so much blood.

“garcia, thorne!” santos yelled out.

“what did you do?!” you freaked out from the sideline. 

“nothing! i tried to drain…” santos began to explain before garcia stepped in. “alright, let’s see.”

“everything was fine until you bumped into me.” santos whisper-yelled.

“that wasn’t on purpose. i was trying to see what you were doing. you know? the procedure that should’ve been mine!”

“yeah, you would think that, wouldn’t you?” she retorted.

your sister snapped her head at the two of you bickering in the corner. “okay! i’ve had it with you two! shut the fuck up!”

santos followed orders but not before letting out a sharp exhale. you stayed quiet watching garcia and your sister try to stabilize the girl on the table. they ordered more blood, they packed gauze, but it was too much and too late. they had to call it.

“time of death: 14:23.” garcia said taking off her bloody gloves. she walked off but not before looking at you and santos with disappointment in her eyes. 

“happy?” your sister rhetorically asked following garcia out of the room.

“i think i’m gonna be sick.” you said ripping off your gloves and white protective gown. you were too focused on running into the change room’s toilet that you didn’t hear santos running after you.

after spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, you wash your mouth and splash water on your face. the guilt washed over you like a wave. had you and santos just worked together that girl would still be alive. but it’s not your fault you couldn’t stand her. 

trinity santos was so competitive and always knew the answers anytime any of the attendings had a question and sarcastic. god, she had sarcasm by the boat load but despite all of that there was this unexplainable pull towards her. maybe it's because like seeks like.

you opened the door, surprised to see santos sitting on the bench. she looked up as you walked out. her face matching what you felt.

“we should talk,” she said softly rubbing her thighs, trying to get rid of the moisture on her clammy hands.

“there’s nothing to talk about.” you replied.

“are you sure? because we just… that little girl’s not going home because of us. w-we could’ve done something productive instead we…”

“we fought like we always do,” you took a seat next to her on the bench. she shifted her body to face you a little.

“why do you hate me so much? like what did i do to you?”

“trinity, i don’t hate you. you hate me.” you explained to her like you were explaining simple maths to a 4-year-old. “you’ve always acted this way with me and i never questioned it because… two can play that game.”

santos chuckles dryly. “yeah, well i'm tired of playing games.”

you remained quiet and let silence fill the air and this time you turned to her and spoke slowly. “maybe… there's a universe out there where we're friends.”

with santos' elbows planted in her thighs, she faced the floor but shook her head. “friends? no, i would never want to be just friends with you.”

“you… god, why do i even bother," you muttered to yourself getting up and heading for the door.

“can you let me finish, woman?”

you stopped in your tracks and turned around, arms crossed but your face softened when you see santos make her way towards you with an expression you can’t read.

“i don’t want to be just friends with you, y/n," she repeated herself slowly this time hoping you pick up on the subtext without her having to admit that she liked you. and you do this time. 

her eyes flicked down to you lips and back to your eyes. “would you want that?” her voice soft like if she spoke she’d wake herself up from this dream.

not feeling the need to respond with words, you grabbed her black scrubs and pulled her into you. your lips crashed into hers. it takes a moment for santos to register what’s happening before she takes a hold of your hips and opens her mouth to you. her lips were warm and soft. you slipped your tongue inside, making her let out a moan.

she pulls back after a moment. “i knew you liked me, thorne” you laughed into her shoulder. 

“yeah whatever, santos, you were the one just aching to kiss me,” you leaned in, teasing her.

“what if i was?” she smirked. her hands now snaking under your scrub top. you were a moment away from completely folding before you stepped back. the shock in her face apparent.

“i’d say take me on proper date before you get any other funny idea.” you walked backwards straightening your top. 

she shook her head at you as you walked out of the change room. “god you’re such a lady boner killer.” she called out after you.

santos stayed back for a moment, fingers on her lips. she couldn't believe what just happened. maybe like does seek like after all.

requests are open <3

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

NOW IM CURIOUS do you have a theory as to what happened to suo’s eye?? i’ve seen a few suggesting he’s a victim of human trafficking, was sold into slavery by his abusing/powerful parents, etc. i’m still not sure what i think happened 🥲

hmmmmmmmm ok so lemme be so frank here im still rlly new to the wbk fandom so im still no so familiar with the theories and inside jokes n allat so bear with me here ok

the human trafficking and slavery thing is actually really interesting because there are a lot of things about suo that stood out like a burning red flag to me while i was reading the manga. if you didn't know this, i'm chinese and i know a lot about chinese culture and i speak mandarin fluently. in chinese, suo can be written as 锁, which means lock. wbk has a lot of characters whose names represent them (ie; sakura - cherry blossoms are often representative of sakura in manga panels, endo - it can mean fire and it describes how he talks about takiishi like a "burning inferno"), and suo's meaning lock in chinese and him being fond of chinese culture and items is really interesting, because a lock holds something down or keeps it away.

and i know that there is a kanji (japanese writing) for his name, but this is interesting as well. the 2 kanji that make up "suo" mean "revive, resurrection" and "raft, wood". revive or resurrection almost means to be reborn in a way, or to live a whole new life or to come back from the dead, perhaps hinting that suo has revived from a near death experience or the lowest point of his life. the raft and wood part could imply that he escaped whatever he was locked to (likely trafficking) using some sort of raft. i also know that the letters combined means "sappan wood", which i just think is a reference to his character color because this is literally the color of sappan wood dye:

now let's get into the main part of this theory. we have heard time and time again that suo is fond of chinese items. his last name can be translated into "lock" in chinese. i've mentioned that he might've escaped from whatever he was locked to by some sort of raft. i'm going to talk about some heavy topics, so bear with me here. i believe that suo might have been born in china, got trafficked, then escaped to japan overseas using a raft with help, then changed the lettering of his last name. outlandish, i know. but i have evidence.

we know that suo doesn't move in his sleep from an official art by nii satoru. weird timing here, but in history, when african americans were on ships to be sold off to slavery, they were shackled to tight and compact spaces to sleep and eat. i'm so sorry if anyone is sensitive to these topics or thinks that talking about this stuff because of a manga is ridiculous, but since this is a theory, i had to bring it up. i'm sorry. but the slaves weren't allowed to move because there were so many people, and it would be too hot and too crowded if they moved around. plus, the shackles restrained most of their movement anyways. i suspect that suo might've been in a similar situation and just developed a habit of not moving around in his sleep.

i'd also like to mention that human trafficking is, unfortunately, still a heavy problem in china. north korean escapees--especially women--will nearly always require the help of a smuggler, who is a man (who, in this specific scenario, is chinese) who will smuggle them into china but sell them to human traffickers. i doubt that this is the case with suo, but i think it's still an important topic to bring up when we're making a theory about a character who could potentially have been trafficked.

now here's some more. here is a map of east asia.

as you can see, there are definitely ways to get to china to japan by boat. i don't think suo could have ever rafted here alone; i don't think some random kid would have been able to register himself an id or anything either. suo is 15 currently in the story, and we know that he's been in japan long enough to make a name for himself. and in case you're pointing out "but his first name is japanese!", people can legally change their first names.

the reason why no one knows who he actually defeated in middle school, if this theory is true (which is highly unlikely), is because he was middle school age, but not actually in middle school when he defeated them. maybe he was still in china at the time. idk.

so short answer: yes, he was human trafficked, and there was some sort of scar left behind. sorry i had a whole yap session, i kind of looked into the og mentioned theory because i'd never heard this theory before, but i ended up getting invested and made my own😭

[paracosm-draw]

Oh that's it. The worst thing about the success of the ROTS release is having to read through all the bullshit and one-sided views concerning Anakin's fall and his actions before, during and after it, and the way some people try to appropriate his character (imaginary) to justify their own twisted moral (real).

Disclaimer, I don't pretend to know better than other people, this is just my point of view.

First, it's pretty hard to ignore that Anakin's fall to the dark side is multifactorial. No, he didn't decide to slaughter children because the Council was unfair to him once, but the fact that most of the Council members looked at him as a child and perceived that something was wrong* with him from the start, and decided not to provide the help he clearly needed while never completely trusting him probably played a role in his construction and future mindset.

*Wrong as in fearing for his mother's life - the only family/caretaker/reliable person he ever knew - which is completely normal for a nine year old kid being ripped off his normality. Normality being to exist as a literal slave with all it implies (not being considered a person, being deprived of rights, care, protection, dignity, needs, being sold to unknowns when you're not simply killed because you're "trouble" or not useful anymore.) Can you imagine the impact of being born a possession and having to live in survival mode every single day has on the psyche of any individual ? Let alone a child born in slavery ? Some people really conveniently tend to forget that.

So now imagine that you've lived your first nine years of life as literally nobody, and suddenly someone comes and offers you a future. Like a real future. And a status as a person, but not only a person with free will and the right to exist, but one of the most respected people in the Galaxy. Oh but there's more. Because you're special. You were no one and now you're special. Unique. Because before you even learn how to live for yourself, you're expected to bring balance to something you don't even understand yet. People have expectations for you, a plan already traced for your life when your home planet is still visible in the windshield and you just learned what freedom meant.

I'm not a psychologist but I can imagine the impact this duality can have on a person's ego and view of themselves. The switch of power dynamic might be exhilarating. Suddenly you go from saved to saviour. From outlaw to vigilante. From nothing to everything. That's exactly when I think Obi-Wan and the Order had a crucial role to play. Anakin was not a stable kid and couldn't have been considering the childhood he had. He has deep psychological wounds and trauma that nobody ever addressed. He should have been psychologically taken care of from the start, and especially during his teenage years, when unhealed trauma can lead to unhealthy coping mechanisms and behaviours. Instead, the Jedi told him to let go of his past and not to take the path of fear and hatred, without ever explaining how he was supposed to do that. Instead, he got put under the care of someone who was just as emotionally immature and traumatised, and they were supposed to work this out on their own ?

Obi-Wan is not a bad Master, but he was probably not the best for Anakin at this point in his life. Anakin needed someone stable and able to help him, not someone in need of help himself. They grew up together, yes. They learned how to function together and became healthier in some ways in time, yes. They worked the best once they were equals, also yes. They considered the other as a brother/best friend/father figure and it helped them, still yes. The thing is, they didn't have a choice. They had to push through and bury all the traumas and move forward because life is like that and the Jedi life is especially based around those principles. But never talking about an issue doesn't fix it or make it magically disappear. A lot of things could be said about Obi-Wan's responsibility as well, but I think I already posted about this. (Briefly : lack of communication and denial for the most of it)

All of this to say that what's been broken in Anakin had never been repaired, and worse, ignored most of the time.

What better ground for an ill-advised person to work with ?

I've seen people refusing to acknowledge it, but you can call it as you want, the facts are : Anakin has been groomed his entire life by Palpatine and this is clearly shown in the movie. Compliments, gifts, manipulation, false empathy, establishment of a "friendship" and a trust bond for future exploitation purposes, they tick all the boxes. Palpatine plays on his lack of recognition and paranoia to get what he wants, literally all the time. He feeds his ego and establishes a very clever mistrust between Anakin and the only family he can count on. He carefully places seeds of doubt inside of his heart. He isolates him. He exploits his narcissistic tendencies. He constantly reminds him that he's better, stronger, more powerful because he's special, because he's the Chosen One. Allegedly. He also places himself as the one who sees the truth, the one who isn't corrupted and thus, who can be trusted when no one else can be. He's very very smart. And it works because Anakin is starving for attention, because he doesn't have a true father figure, because he feels wanted and important and useful. And because he never learnt (and nobody taught him) that you don't have to be useful to be loved. How could he, when his entire existence is actually based on being useful ? When he knows he's been created by the Force itself to kind of fix it someday ?

He has a completely distorted vision of his own value as a human being. It's either black or white. Actually, his whole perception of the world is rather black or white. He cruelly lacks nuance. This is also something you learn (or not in this fandom, apparently.)

That leads me to his own responsibility in his fall. I'm not saying all of this to diminish the role he had in his downfall, and even less to justify his actions. I'm just saying that we have to consider that several factors had an importance in the choices he made before, during and after turning to the dark side.

Having a shitty childhood full of unadressed/unhealed trauma is usually a common ground for people committing atrocities BUT all the people having a shitty childhood don't commit atrocities. Why ? Mostly because of the way they've been handled after that, because of their socio-economic background, of the support and care they received, because of their mental health and predisposition to resilience and a lot more factors psychologists could explain better than me. But also because at some point you have choices to make. And Anakin chose to make the wrong ones, every single time. What led him to those choices was partly conditioned by all the things we talked about, but ultimately, he was the one to decide. The one deciding to slaughter an entire village, the one deciding to betray and turn his back to his friends and mentors, the one deciding to hurt his pregnant wife and to pledge himself to his groomer. Ultimately, he was the one digging his own grave, but he's been given the tools to do it.

There are a lot more things to talk about, including the impact of the war on his psyche, Padme, his relationship with Obi-Wan and a potential mental disorder but I think this is getting way too long already

I'm sorry in advance for the typos, I wrote it in one go and didn't edit it, and also it's 3am. Hope you'll get my point at least aha

If you're still there, thank you for reading !

As always, I'm open to discussion 🫶🏻

[lovely-writes-alot]

There's this story story compition that I'm planning on entering and I jsut finished writing it (editing with happen tomorrow lol) but I'm pretty sure there's several people who will want to read it so I shall gift it upon you all

I will have to cut out a good chunk of it cause it's like 450 words over the limit 😅

Unlike humans, I wasn't made from two people who love each other. I was made from clay, and was born in a kiln.

I don't remember being shaped, nor the process of coming into this world. I had no choice but to exist.

Humans, nor gods for that matter, tell you how hard existing is. I still can't really wrap my head around how much learning you have to do. Walking, Talking, Cooking, Cleaning. No wonder they get so exhausted.

Humans do have a significant advantage. They get to do more than just exist. They get to live. They don't realise how lucky they are to be able to do things so easily, feel emotions, just experience it all the way only a human can.

For the thousands of years I've existed I have longed for that, and I finally got my chance.

My creator, a god called Sanut, ushers me out the back door of him temple, continuous glancing behind him.

"Okay, dear. I'm going to busy for…. most of the day. Just come back when the sun starts setting. And just get out of view from the windows." He quickly turned to head back inside.

"What if I get lost?" I asked, my tone just as plain and monotone as normal.

"I'm a god, dear. I'll find you." I couldn't really argue with that, so I let him enter the temple again, before turning.

I wondered a little, trying to get used to the feeling of grass. It was a interesting texture. Spiky, but in a good way. I hoped it won't stain the white clay that I was made of.

The back part of the temple was in its own shadow at this point of the day, making it slightly cold. I didn't know shadows could do that.

Everything out here intrigued me. Whilst Sanut's temple was pretty, it couldn't compare to nature looked.

I continued to walk around the shadowed area, just taken all of it's beauty, and touching everything.

I'm surprised by how nice the bumps and unevenness of trees, rocks, and dirt felt. The way humans acted made me think the feeling would be unpleasant.

For the first time, I felt my curiosity override my need to keep myself safe, letting myself run my fingers across everything I could without worrying if my fingers would snap off.

I enjoyed my exploration for a while longer, before the bush rustles.

I completely froze. "Hello?" I call.

More rustling.

I stood there for a moment, not sure if I should run or investigate. Was rustling a good thing?

It rustled some more, the sound growing as whatever was in there came closer.

Whilst the rational part of me was screaming it run, I crept closer, trying to get a peek inside the bush.

Before I could get a good look inside, the creature walked out. It was a small, fluffy, rodent.

I stared for a moment, admiring it slightly, a strange feeling washing over me. It stared back, jsut for a second, before running off.

"Wait!" The words slipped from my mouth before I realised, and my legs started chasing it before my brain could catch up.

I trailed behind it for a while, weaving my way through the trees. I didn't know that the forest here was so dense.

I eventually came to a stop, letting the rodent run out of my sight.

I had stumbled across someone. A young girl, no older then 19, sitting in the middle of a ring of trees with a pile of flowers sat in front of her as she twisted them together.

I must've been staring for a while, as she eventually glanced up at me. "Are you going to continue staring or do you want to join?" She asked, her tone slightly teasing.

I imagined if I wasn't made of clay, I would've blush, but I welcomed the offer, and sat down next to her.

She had a small smile on her face, she happily continued weaving the flowers together as she hummed a soft tune under her breath. It was a beautiful melody, sometime I hadn't heard yet.

"What are you humming?" I asked.

"The night we met, by Lord Huron. It's one of my favorites."

I nodded. "Can't say I've heard of it."

The girls jaw dropped. "Do you live under a rock?!"

"Uh- no, I live in a temple-"

She chuckled. "I know that, silly."

"Oh."

Her gazed shifting following mine to the flowers. "Would you like to learn?" She asked.

"Learn what?"

"How to make a flower crown." She held hers round her head.

I nodded, quickly, hoping my neck wouldn't crack.

She moved closer grabbed a few flowers.

We stayed there, for most of the day. We make several crowns, we talked, we laughed, and it made me feel different. A nice different.

I learnt her name was Charlotte, and when she learnt that I didn't have a name, she demanded we fixed that. We decided on Delilah.

It wasn't until the sun set that we had to part ways, for now at least, but despite being alone once more, I felt like I had changed during that day, like somthing in me was unlocked.

***

We continued to meet up in the forest almost everyday, especially as Sanut's business increased.

Charlotte taught me a range of activities. Some went well, like drawing and acting, others, like swimming, weren't made for my body.

I started to grow fond of her, her presence becoming something that was intertwine in my life. Being around her, and experiencing this joy was something that was exhilarating. It was the only time I wished I could smile properly.

It was almost perfect, until it wasn't.

I started to notice that Charlotte's presence started to slow, only slowly, until it suddenly stopped completely.

The first time I was confused. she wouldn't just leave me like that, right?

I spent that entire day looking for her. I'm not really sure why I thought I would find her.

I felt a new emotion when I saw the sun setting. I started questioning why she hadn't shown. Was she sick? Was she busy? Did I upset her? Would she come back? All the thoughts swam around my head like a school of fish.

The next day, I went to look again. Still no sign of Charlotte.

The new feeling from yesterday came up even stronger, but instead of looking, I sat down, hoping that maybe she was just running late.

The same questions as before whirled around me, and other emotion started to build up. Anger.

I had seen anger before. Sanut had shown me anger before, but I didn't realise how much the anger came from the feeling I was feeling before.

All these feelings grew again as the sun started to set once more. Why did she stop showing up?

I repeated this cycle for multiple days, and after a while of nearly driving myself crazy with the questions, I started to feel different about it all.

Whilst I was still sad about the fact Charlotte stopped meeting me, another part of me was happy that I got to experience the memories with her I had.

I learnt a lot, about myself and the world, and that I really enjoyed doing certain things, especially stuff that was creative. If I hadn't met her, I never would've learnt that.

Once Sanut ushered me out for the 8th day, I walked much slower to the spot. I let myself enjoy the feeling of everything again. The grass, the trees, the sun. I soaked it all in like it would be the last time I felt it all.

I went to the same ring of trees I chased the rodent into. I hope it was okay after that, I must've given it quite the fright.

I looked around, only just noticing the wildflowers that had started to grow, adding bright colour to the area.

I went over, a picked some carefully, making sure that I left it all mostly undisturbed.

I took my little collect and I took it all to the centre area. I sat down, taking a few flowers, and started to weave them together, into a crown. I hummed a familiar tune to myself, a wave of joy coming over me again.

This time, Charlotte may have not been there, but I still felt happy, and that's all that mattered to me.

This joy was mine, no matter the circumstances.

Any thoughts and opinions are welcome and very much wanted

tagging people who I think will care

@hellincarnation @daonedaonlysk @jerry-the-leech @sunnies-theory-of-happiness @dreamboyinthedarkvoid @childofthewargod

[changingplumbob]

Day Nineteen - Connor Group 2/2

Berenice doesn't have any strong feelings about being in a park, but she is glad to have some space from everyone.

Deanna: When you were a kid did you enjoy school?

Berenice: Ooh yes! Well the school part was easy. And I liked most of my teachers. I would have preferred it if I didn't have to deal with the other kids though - they could be so mean! Ha, but I did the homework for the kids the year or two above me so they protected me

Deanna: Sounds smart

Berenice: Thank you! But maybe not that smart because I didn’t have a Plan B for when they went to high school! And I hadn’t yet manifested as a - well it’s important to always have a Plan B, and not just for after woohoo! That was uh… a joke. (But it is important to have a Plan B…)

Deanna: When you were little did you have a dream job?

Berenice: A travelling librarian! Or an astronaut. Though I wouldn't have wanted to reach the stars on a spaceship - unless it's a regular ship but made for space? That could be possible!

Deanna: The traveling sounds fun. I wanted to be a pirate

Berenice: Ha! With my flying ship we could have been galaxy plunderers together. Except I'm not very good at fighting - how good are you with a cutlass?

Deanna: Surprisingly, not terrible. Devin liked to act out sword fight scenes when we were growing up

Deanna: How about you? Any strong childhood memories?

Berenice: Okay so when I was still wearing my hair in space buns as a 10 year old, other kids made fun of me and said that was only for "babies." But the strange thing was that it was cool to wear your hair that way for college girls too! So how could it be for babies? That's why I never liked other children. They make no sense. Anyway I found out where the main girl lived, which turned out to be in the same neighbourhood as a really mean boy the year above us I was doing homework for. He wasn't actually mean! He just didn't think he was very smart and acted mean to hide it. So I told him about it and - they stopped teasing me about my space buns *grins*

Deanna: *laughs* Cunning and cut throat, maybe you should have been a pirate

After the date we head back to the villa where it is once again skill time! Will contestants focus on short term needs or play the long game with their study choices?

Today comedy was the popular choice! Isla and Isabella agreed it was a good idea to help calm them while Berenice was keen to read a joke book. Kaye learned more about rock climbing, wondering what extreme sports she was missing out on at the moment. Nyami thought it was sensible to work on fitness while Dee decided to sharpen her logic.

While contestants are busy Deanna works on grilling a treat for dinner. Time to see how she felt the date went.

Devin: What do we have here

Deanna: Vege patties for vege burgers

Devin: Very nice, was Berenice very nice

Deanna: Nice? Yes. Odd? Yes. They'll probably cut around it but halfway through she got up and sat at the table on the opposite side of the tree to me. I mean... why? She kept talking but we were kind of talking through the tree? But I did try Devin

Rather than heading to the dinning room for dinner contestants are asked to put on their active clothes and head out. They arrive at the local spa where they are greeted by Deanna and... someone else.

Deanna: Thanks for coming everyone. I know that this round must have been stressful. Meeting new people, competing, trying to decide if I'm worth staying for. That's why we're here with my best friend Reece, this guy. He is an outdoors loving genius with a desire to spread zen so he's going to lead us through a guided meditation

Reece: Hello. I look forward to meeting you all properly later. For now follow me to the meditation garden. It's outside but in the shade so we won't need to worry about sunburn

Reece led the group through a meditation, successfully lowering heart rates and ensuring everyone was in a good mood for the rest of the evening. Before going in the spa however, one more surprise. Deanna had grilled up a picnic for everyone!

The vege buns were a smash success! Even the meat eaters enjoyed them. Dee and Reece sat at the picnic table and talked while the rest of the ladies chose to sit on the pillows. Nyami told some good jokes while Kaye decided to talk about fish? Deanna loves the outdoors so was entertained.

Heading in to the spa everyone got a face mask! They were assigned to either relax in the sauna, relax in a massage chair or get a proper massage as their first activity. Autonomy was toggled on full from the moment the meditation ended so contestants had some time to chat or further pamper themselves. Remember, if they do not win a date from the upcoming cast challenge then this will be their last opportunity to talk to Deanna before the commencement ceremony. Reece is also around but friendship gained with him will not be judged.

In the sauna were our humourous trio of Dee, Nyami and Berenice. Alas bad luck struck again and Berenice's mask was… not right. Berenice tried to laugh it off, claiming she merely looked like a sad freezer bunny. I know she wanted to have matching animal masks with her friends though. Kaye and Deanna relaxed, and of course our two refined ladies Isabella and Isla got the gold facial masks!

When Isla had finished with hers she made sure to give Isabella a big hug. Being in the same group had meant that they could spend their days in the villa together as well as their days off set. Unsure if they would be in the same group again Isla expressed her happiness at having made a friend. And what do we have here? Nyami sneaking in another flirty compliment with Deanna? Clearly she wants her to know she's still in this even if she hasn't had a date yet. And of course, poor Berenice could do with a facial…

@corrienteallita, @eljeebee, @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants, @hashimasims, @jonquilyst, @riverofjazzsims

[penguin-stars]

gdcg 208 comment

crash out edition

WHEN I SAW PART 1, I THOUGHT THAT THE CHAPTER WOULD BE SPLIT IN TWO, NOT THAT WE WERE AT THE END OF PART ONE

WHAT WAS THAT???

I don't know how widely this is known, but when I was a kid, there was this Creepy Pasta that was very famous in Latin America.

It was claimed to be Captain Tsubasa's lost ending, and this supposed ending happened after Japan won the World Cup: "And then he woke up from a coma, only to find out that his legs were missing!"

It gave me that sort of feeling.

Maybe the real "good" friend was the Soleum we made along the way

Dragon parts, human blood, and everything nice

So Soleum's chronic case of being too kind for his own good was the result of the restriction placed on him by the good friend ritual...This is fine, it's cool, it's ok...

I clearly wished to return to where I was the day before joining the company. (...) Daydream found out came crashing in it was another trick before they could take Name-nim we smuggled them out hid them in the place with the most people please—

I'm a little confused, so let me get this straight:

It seems like the Research Institute was a subsidiary of the Luminous Church? But, weren't they the original Daydream? I might have to reread when Soleum went into the abandoned lab.

They make it seem as if this whole "summoning Ireum-nim" was done behind Daydream's back. And since when have the executives known that Soleum is the one that was summoned?

Soleum returned to the "place he was before joining Daydream." At first, I thought that he went back in time to before the new employee orientation began, but how would you make sense of Director Cheong's dialogue?

“Such admirable company loyalty. Coming back like this.”

So he just went back to the place, not the time.

“Ah, I see. It makes humans appear monstrous, doesn’t it? (...) “But when a real monster wears it, it’s nothing more than a mold that forces a body into shape (...)"

^^^ That's some real existential horror type of thing right there.

Finally, he acknowledges that he never talks about his previous world that he desperately wants to return to...shame it only took reality crashing down on him. Maybe the opening chapter was a dream he was having while in the capsule? A memory from the real KSE?

If the intent was to summon Ireum-nim and the "successful" result was our KSE...

Then the real KSE is Ireum-nim in this world. As a major contributor to the wiki —if not THE major contributor— it would make sense that he would be considered a god of sorts.

KSE might not even be his real name, only a pen name that he uses in the wiki. Since it has been said before, it's an odd name in the first place.

And just like that I started working for the company again.

Getting a job at Daydream really is like:

“We were deceived.”

This line will live rent-free in my head for the next couple of months. What does it mean??? Deceived by who??

[yanderes-galore]

Would it be possible for a romantic yandere concept of ace? I see how he was when dealing with rivals but how would he be???

Well, since I already covered how he deals with rivals... I won't really do it here. I will link it though.

Ace dealing with rivals

Yandere! Portgas D. Ace HCs

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Self-deprecation (Ace), Clingy behavior, Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Violence, Mentioned murder, Kidnapping, Isolation, Dubious companionship.

Ace, probably the most mature of his brothers, yet also the one with the most baggage.

I like to think Ace, due to his looks and manners, is the most experienced with romantic feelings.

I know that's not canon... but in my mind he seems like he'd have a better understanding of having crushes.

He's never acted on them... yet he understands having desires.

I find Ace interesting as he seems like a confident character due to his power and attitude...

But he's actually very vulnerable when it comes to you.

An important part of Ace's backstory is the fact he questions his existence.

He doesn't understand why he matters or why he exists.

Which often means he makes himself exist for others... such as Luffy or Whitebeard.

So, if Ace fell for someone, I can see him doing everything he can to commit to them.

If he doesn't plan on living for himself... He'll live for another.

You probably don't even see such a side of Ace until later in his obsession.

When you first meet Ace, he's confident and flirty.

You had caught his eye and decided his time would best be spent with you.

At the start, Ace would ignore his feelings.

He doesn't want to admit he has feelings for you.

He views himself as a devil, he doesn't want you associating with a person such as him.

Although, despite such thoughts, it doesn't stop him from coming to see you often.

Ace starts by wanting to protect you... That's all.

He wants to be a friend, he wants to dedicate himself to you...

But it starts more as just him trying to be protective of a new comrade he made.

I can see Ace as either platonic or romantic, yet he takes longer to show romantic feelings.

Maybe months after meeting you... or even a year... his feelings wear him down.

He loves you, no matter how he tries to hide it, so he stops hiding it.

He either shows it through actions by hovering or being overly friendly.

Although, when his confession hits, he tries his best to make it meaningful.

You make him feel wanted... So he's going to make sure you want to stay.

He hates forcing you to love him... yet even though he hates it, I'm not saying it won't happen.

Now, let's properly talk about behavior.

Ace is a protective yandere first and foremost.

He's seen the dangers the sea brings and wants to shield you from them.

You give him something to live for... if he doesn't...

It will devastate him if he loses you.

He has possessive behavior at times, but most of his actions are to protect.

Ace is incredibly affectionate once he gives into his feelings... even expressing some worship yandere behavior.

After all, he feels he isn't worth living for.

You're one of the people who makes him feel like he matters.

The others are his father figure... his brother(s)...

But you're meant to be his love... so how could he not worship you if he's letting you so close to his heart...?

He cuddles you, kisses you gently like you'll break...

He knows he can easily harm or burn you, so he tries to keep calm for you.

A HC I have for Ace is his body is hotter than others.

He can keep you warm with his body heat, which makes him perfect for cuddles.

He may even heat up when he is frustrated.

That's another reason he tries to be calm when holding you... He'd hate to burn you.

While he sees himself as a devil like the rest of the world... He never wants to hurt you.

In fact, he wants the opposite....

He wants to be the one who keeps you from harm.

To the point he's willing to use the power he wields to decimate other people.

Ace does give others a chance to rethink crossing you though.

He starts with words... but we both know what he can do.

This is the same guy who has punched through Marine ships in a blazing inferno.

So... safe to say, Ace takes your safety seriously. (Take a look at his linked HCs)

He's overall smiles, wrapping himself around you as you speak to others.

He can kill, yet has the restraint to hold back enough to talk things down.

He gives others a chance... Nothing more.

In terms of how a relationship goes, Ace is actually great.

He's affectionate, worships you, gives you all the love you could ever ask for...

Until he starts being manipulative.

Like any protective yandere, he gets paranoid.

After all, if Ace dedicates himself to you to the point of obsession...

He isn't going to want to lose you to anyone or anything, right?

He'd probably refrain from kidnapping... at first.

He wants to be honest, he'll vent his worries eventually as he tries to convince you to follow through with his plan of living somewhere with you.

Or, if you're not part of the Whitebeard Pirates, he'll try to convince you to join.

If that doesn't work, if you argue and try to leave him...

Ace may... snap.

He doesn't burn you, although there may be some accidental heat....

He doesn't like to force you... Yet if he's driven by his fear and insecurity...?

He may just get a bit... unstable.

Ace would feel guilty if you hated him.

He tells himself he can smooth it over... but he may never get what he had with you again.

He probably just ruined it for himself.

Maybe you'll get Stockholm Syndrome... yet it makes him feel worse.

He may have you to himself and safe... but if you don't love him?

What's the point?

Overall, Ace is a protective worship yandere.

He's insecure, yet you make him feel complete.

He wants you to love him genuinely...

Yet if it's between losing you one way or the other...

He'll want to keep you in whatever way he can.

[swaps55]

I'm probably going to sound ramble-y, apologies in advance, but Opus has rewired my brain chemistry and the limits of fanfiction and I need you to know.

I love mshenko. It's one of those ships that live in my brain rent free, and while it's canon execution has it's flaws, to see it play out on screen (the slow burn, their dynamic, the ease of it all) beyond the realm of fanon was amazing. Bioware, especially games like ME and DA2 (for example), give the illusion of character choice and development that is ultimately linear with little consequence. ME falls into this, ME2 less so, and ME3 provides maybe the most room (likely due to not planning a sequel with Shep). It's not all the time, and it's not always bad, but it's noticable if you play a lot of RPGs or wind up on your upteenth run. Sometimes the RP element falls flat, and thus the characters do, too, and you're thrown outta the loop by video game logic.

Your fic flips this entirely on its head. It's hard to explain, but the balance you've found between canon compliance and divergence is masterful. I read a scene and I'm struck by how *real* it all is, the way you've written the characters, their interactions, and how it fits into the world and the story so unobtrusively. It's the story of Mass Effect but with the characters given the first and final thought, especially Shepard, and it provides so much for exploration of what *is* canon by no longer making Shepard a vessel of player choice, but a complete character with his own goals and beliefs and development and it does *wonders* for the story of ME, everything hits so much harder because it's not "what will I do?" it's "what will Sam do?" We know him as a man and suddenly the stakes are so much higher. Maybe Opus isn't a novelization of the intricacies of the entire canon, but it's a novelization of Shepard, and of Kaidan, and I'm in awe of how you managed it.

The sheer numbers of this series astound me. The dedication, your passion, is so clear to see and so inspiring to a fellow fic writer. I too often get caught up in keeping my fics plot canon compliant that I don't realize just how much can be done in the margins of canon and still within the realm of possibility, and your work is a brilliant example of that. I applaud you, truly. To start such a project and share it with the world takes effort, drive, and you are infinitely inspirational. Opus is a masterwork, and a piece of fiction that will stick with me for a very long time. <3

Oh gosh, thank you. Mass Effect has been such a powerful experience for me because it’s impacted my life on so many levels in ways no other media has. My family, my friends, where I live, and even my day job, would not be what they are without it. So Opus, in many ways, is my attempt to put into words what it – and what Shepard – mean to me.* It’s a lot of feelings, lol.

Even though player choice often is an illusion, that illusion can be a really powerful one, and it’s part of what makes video games such a wonderful storytelling medium. You, as the player, participate in the narrative in ways you can’t with a traditional novel or a movie. Even if the story takes you to more or less the same place no matter what you do, the journey to get there feels uniquely yours. It’s exactly why I never want to see a Mass Effect movie or a TV show, because whatever linear, ‘canon’ story they decide to tell won’t look like the one that is so deeply important to me.

But that’s why fanfic is so special with games like this. It’s a multiverse where all of our experiences, all of our Shepards, all of our choices – canon compliant and canon breaking – get to co-exist. The Shepard Kaleidoscope is one of my favorite things about the Mass Effect fandom. Shepard is so many things to so many people.

Video games like this also pose some really fascinating narrative questions, because the necessary constraints that game mechanics pose on the story don’t apply in a traditional narrative. In Mass Effect, Shepard is the hero because they are the player character. Every piece of the narrative flows through them because the player is the center of the universe and the crux upon which all things turn. You don’t really think about why when you play, because the answer is self-evident – you are the player character. But a traditional written story doesn’t have that component.

So the thesis of Opus is more or less, “why Sam? Why is this guy the only person who can save the galaxy?” And Opus itself is the dissertation that makes my case. It is first and foremost a character study, so canon relationships and canon events have to be shaped and bent by him. People are messy and complicated and don't fit into binary systems like 'paragon' and 'renegade', and Sam is no exception.

It’s very important to me that Sam is the only one who can defeat the reapers not because he’s a huge badass, but because the choices he makes and the things he goes through along the way uniquely position him to do something no one else is capable of doing. I’m terribly excited about how it’s going to happen, because I will finally get the Mass Effect 3 ending I’ve wanted since March 2012 – but his ending wouldn’t work in the game because it’s designed around him.

You have no idea how incredible it is to me that Sam resonates with so many people. I really didn’t know if he would, in part because of that Shepard Kaleidoscope. We all have our own Shepards, and our own ideas of who Shepard is. Asking others to invest in a Shepard who very definitively colors outside the lines that the game drew for the character felt like a big ask. But the story I wanted to tell just wouldn’t work if I kept him to a more “default” Shepard, because that wouldn’t answer my thesis statement.

Thank you for reading it. Thank you for loving it. And thank you SO much for telling me that it means something to you. Sometimes I feel a little insane about how devoted I am to this character and his relationship with Kaidan Alenko. Having people to yell about them with is very, very special. <3  

*ok, it’s also the culmination of more than a decade of spite and rage over the ending.